by Lara Swann
What? What did you think would happen? He’s fleeing the country and you’re Antonio Santini’s daughter.
It was a nice fantasy, but it’s over now.
Chapter Seventeen
Leo
I paced a circuit of the garden, the short distance making me feel more like a caged animal than truly aiding my thought process.
Tonight, I was going to ask her to stay with me.
And I didn’t have a clue how I was going to do it.
There was no reason for her to agree - she’d made it very clear how much she wanted to return to her family. I was offering her what could well be a life of risk and danger, for…what? My great skills at fucking?
But I was going to do it anyway. Because if I didn’t ask, I’d wonder about it forever. And she was the best woman I’d ever known. Hot, and fiery, and funny, and sweet, and with an innocence that I delighted in corrupting.
However strong her loyalty might be, her family didn’t deserve her - I knew that much. I couldn’t stand the thought of her going back to a life she didn’t get a choice in, to conform to whatever they expected of her. She had too much fire in her to be an old-fashioned, obedient mafia wife.
I’d seen how much she’d enjoyed the last week - and not just the sex, but being here. I heard the way she’d spoken of the places she wanted to visit and the things she wanted to do. The things she might never experience if she went back. And I wanted to give it all to her - show her every pleasure and every imaginable joy in the world, because she deserved nothing less for finally making me notice them.
And I was going to tell her all that. At least, I thought I was. I had no fucking clue what I was doing.
I’d avoided people, connections, attachments for all of my life and yet somehow, this had happened. My whole life alone, and now two weeks with her…and everything had changed. Two crazy, incredible weeks. And I didn’t want it to end.
I’d never felt as vulnerable or scared as I did right now, realizing how much I’d grown to want her and not knowing if she felt the same way. I’d thrived on life-and-death moments, on the danger and thrill of putting myself in those situations. And not one of them could compare to this. I was more exposed than I’d ever been, and it was utterly terrifying.
Maybe I’d tell her that, too. Or maybe not. Who the hell knew what women wanted to hear in moments like this?
I glanced at my watch with another scowl. At least I had some time to work it out.
I resumed my pacing, and thinking, and cursing, worked up in a way that a simple hit had never made me. It was only after another couple of hours passed that a different kind of anxiety started hitting me. She’d been gone most of the morning now.
How long does it take to buy a few fucking groceries?
But I wasn’t going to disturb her. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t. If she wanted to take a few hours to admire the small village we were in, I was going to let her. Because…I couldn’t ask my captive to stay with me. She had to know that she was free first - that it wasn’t her kidnapper asking, and she really had a choice.
Gritting my teeth, I turned back inside and tried to find some distraction as I waited for her to return.
And waited.
Finally, as the light started to fade, I let the dread that had been slowly growing within me have its voice.
She wasn’t coming back.
I stood caught for a moment, between the hard-action adrenaline that surged through me and demanded I do something, and collapsing in despair. Then I came down on the first option, my body unable to do anything else, even as my mind froze.
I charged out of the house and towards the shops she’d left for what felt like forever ago. The streets were fairly empty, but for once I didn’t care about the few people who noticed me.
Strange how Alessa always ends up more important than the discretion you’ve lived your life by.
I remembered the other time I’d run flat-out searching for her, the sordid motel, and then my stomach flipped for an entirely different reason.
What if something had happened to her? There could have been a freak accident, the bratva could have caught up to us…anything.
Cursing myself for ever leaving her alone, I picked up my speed and it only took me half an hour to have seen every street, searched every part of this little village.
There was no sign of her. Nothing. No broken body on the ground, or blood smears giving hints of the violent acts my mind kept picturing.
Finally, I turned back to the couple of shops on the main road. I didn’t care how much attention it drew anymore - I was going to ask about her.
The main grocery shop had already closed and I resisted the urge to pound the door down - from the darkness inside, it was obvious no one was home. Instead, I rushed over to the next one - a DIY type from the looks of it - just as the owner came out to close up.
“Hey!” My voice was too loud, too urgent and I forced it down a notch as he looked up. “Have you seen a woman come by here? A while ago, maybe? Dark hair and eyes, sun-bronzed skin, Italian beauty type? About this height—”
“Yeah I seen her.” The man interrupted my description, which was just as well, as my descriptions were about to become far too poetic. I could feel every beat of my heart in my chest as he responded. “Left here this morning with two guys. Heard them say they were goin’ home.”
He turned back to the door and took his keys out, seemingly unaware that everything within me had just died.
Well, there you go. You got your answer.
It didn’t matter I hadn’t had the chance to lay out my ill-prepared arguments or convince her otherwise - she’d made her choice.
She’d tried to escape every chance she got, so it shouldn’t have been so damn surprising that the moment I let her go free, she flew home.
Even if it killed me.
The shopkeeper shot me an odd look and I made myself thank him, turn and walk slowly back to the house. I didn’t see anything on the way back, couldn’t do anything other than curse myself for my stupidity.
You kidnapped her, idiot. So what if she decided to make the most of it and enjoy what she could? Of course she wasn’t suddenly picturing spending the rest of her life with a hitman.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d always despised the sort of fools I’d now become. I’d spent my life avoiding it. It was the whole reason I didn’t let anyone into my life - and now it had come out of nowhere and hit me over the head.
I should have known better.
Maybe it was a horrible, bleak thought - maybe for one instant, I’d been convinced by her argument that happiness was worth the risk, worth the weakness - but I’d been right all along.
People just abandoned you. They left when you were counting on them, and took too much of you with them. I’d always been alone, and that was how it should have stayed. I was better that way.
Even if, right now, it didn’t feel like it.
I let myself back into the house, flicking the lights on as I wondered why everything seemed dimmer. I could have sworn this house was nicer a few hours ago.
With a sigh, I slowly lowered myself to the sofa, feeling more wrung out than I could ever remember. I’d been chased part way around the country, had thugs shoot at me, somehow worked out how to live with a woman for two weeks, and now…this. I’d never seriously considered giving up, but I couldn’t bring myself to care anymore.
Stupid fucked up idiot. Stop with the fucking self-pity. You always knew she was going to say no. Now move the fuck on.
I let the sudden flare of irritation spur me into at least thinking about what this meant - what I needed to do now. If Alessa was going back, then my identity would be out within a day. I doubted I’d be able to show my face in this tiny village, let alone at a full-blown airport where they were looking for me.
All my plans would come to nothing because I’d let her free for a few hours in one fucked up decision. I’d managed to hang on for so long, but now…I
couldn’t get away. Not with everyone looking for me.
It took a long time to settle on the only option left to me, and even as I did, conflicting, confused emotions ran riot through me. I was probably just a dead-man walking, but if I had any chance, it would be there.
I still couldn’t summon any enthusiasm for getting myself out of this mess, but as I looked around the warm room and thought about staying here alone…I picked up my keys and headed for the door. I had a plan, something to do - that had been enough to sustain me before. It would be again.
I told myself I was going back to NYC because I had no choice - within a day, my face would be plastered everywhere. The airports would be watched. I couldn’t get away anymore. I was going back because I had to - because Jay was the only one who might help me. I told myself it had nothing to do with the dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty who would also be there.
For a while, as the landscape between us passed unnoticed, I even believed it.
Chapter Eighteen
Alessa
“…and she’s still not said anything!” The furious voice made me pause, looking ahead to the slightly ajar door of my father’s office.
I hadn’t thought anyone was still up. It was past midnight, and I was only prowling the halls because I couldn’t sleep - hoping the walking would cure some of the restlessness I hadn’t been able to shake since I got home.
“It’s only been two days, and who knows what he did to her...” My father’s voice was lower, calm as always, and I realized with a start they were talking about me.
“Still fucking unhelpful. The Russians already think we’re behind Viktor’s death, and now she turns up - not a mark on her, no information we can use or share with them. They’re not going to look past their boss dying and our daughter returning unharmed.” I crept closer as my uncle spoke, his anger obvious, and my heart sped up at the conversation.
It was the first thing that had cracked through the disinterest that had overtaken me since I’d returned. I knew I should be glad to be back, but for some reason all I could think about were those fleeting times with Leo - the pool and the sun and the sex. As if it had been some god-damned holiday.
I’d kept myself blank and somewhat numb to the questions and comments so far, giving limited or no answers while I waited for the moment when all this would feel right again. When I’d slot back into everyone’s expectations and the way I’d lived before.
The best part of it all had been seeing my sisters again - they’d rushed up to hug me and I’d held them both tight for a long time, ignoring a lot of their chatter as always and finding out everything they’d been up to while I’d been gone. They hadn’t been told the full story, and I didn’t enlighten them, letting them think I’d just gone away to stay with a relative.
But everyone seemed to be different. My father’s grim countenance was somehow less intimidating, my brother seemed too ridiculous in his usual self-importance and arrogance, and my sisters were more naive than when I’d left them. It took a while before I realized that none of them had changed at all. I had.
It seemed stupid that two weeks could do that, even if they were crazy and intense, but they had. I wasn’t the same person who’d been kidnapped and taken from these people. And I didn’t know where that left me.
I knew I’d adjust back eventually - I still knew what was expected of me, I understood my place here. And I’d thought maybe they’d give me a little breathing room to slip back into it. Hopefully, that would be enough.
“…such a clusterfuck - the whole thing.” My uncle was still ranting ahead of me, and I couldn’t bring myself to step away and leave them to their private conversation. My father might be the controlled, calculating one of the pair, but - within the family, at least - there was no doubting that my uncle’s ruthlessness dominated. “His death was meant to cut the bratva off from the allies Viktor brought to the table - now these loose ends have those sons of bitches riled up and searching everywhere for his killer. What the hell were we thinking, hiring an unknown hitman through an untrustworthy source?”
My idle interest sharpened to a point that was almost painful as I froze by the door.
What?!
“You know exactly why we used intermediaries. We couldn’t let anyone see our involvement.” My father’s tone was still neutral, as if this revelation didn’t change everything.
“But the fucking bastard was supposed to give us the hitman’s identity - not just disappear without a trace!” I could almost hear the grinding of my uncle’s teeth.
“Killing Manny was a mistake, it told O’Connor we were taking out anyone connected to the hit, spooked him too early—”
“We had to do that, Tony, he knew we were the source of his intel and if anyone had gotten to him—”
“Yes, Vincent. I know. We’ve been over this, remember? Nothing has changed.” I finally heard a hint of exasperation from my father, as if this was an old argument.
“Nothing has changed?! Your fucking daughter came back alive, that’s what fucking changed!” My uncle’s voice was as vehement as he could make it without shouting, and I heard the stomp of his heavy boots as he started pacing the room. I winced and glanced around, wondering whether he was going to wake anyone else, but everywhere around me was dark, and there was no other hint of a disturbance.
I was leaning against the wall for support now, my heart in my throat and part of me wanting to run away - to stop myself from hearing whatever they were going to say next. I could barely believe this much, and anything else—
“Would’ve been better if she’d fucking died with him. What kind of fucking useless hitman doesn’t kill a witness? If she’d died, the bratva truly wouldn’t have suspected…”
The blood in my ears drowned out whatever else he was muttering about as everything I’d ever known and valued suddenly crashed down around me.
No, no, no, no…
I bit my lip to keep from moaning it out loud, my forehead slamming into where my arm held me up against the wall.
“Maybe, Vincent, but you can’t expect me to regret that my daughter is alive. She can still be useful—”
I pulled myself back with a vicious jerk, too numb to even care about being silent. They were probably too lost in their world of murder and pain and betrayal to notice anyway. I couldn’t listen to this anymore.
I fled as silently as I could, running all the way back to my room and closing the door before throwing myself down on the bed, my heart hammering in my chest. I felt suddenly claustrophobic and in danger in a way I hadn’t felt since that horrible night in the motel. This was my home, this old familiar room had been mine for years. And now I was terrified of being here.
I hugged myself, wanting nothing more than to have Leo sweep me up in his arms as he had that night, promising to keep me safe and make everything okay again. They might be stupid, childish fantasies, but I’d believed him the way I’d never believed anyone else in my life. He’d kept his word, the whole way through.
Exactly as he’d said he would.
My uncle’s damning words replayed again and again in my head, my father’s quickly following them. I’d been raised on duty and obedience all my life - taught that, for us, there was nothing more important than family. It had made me proud, to be part of something where we all looked out for each other - our family against the world and whatever else life might throw at us.
Now all of that was stripped away and revealed for the ugly truth it was.
It wasn’t our lives for family. It was my life for their ambitions. The idea sickened me. They were my family. They were supposed to care, to protect, to guide.
For one long moment, I lay there grieving - for the family I’d thought existed, and the life I’d thought I had. My blood felt like ice in my veins, frozen in disbelief and sudden terror.
And then, quick on its heels, anger bloomed to take its place.
How dare they?! How could they throw my life away like that?!
I t
rembled with the fierce heat that overtook me, fighting the urge to yell and scream and throw things around the room. Anything to get rid of this sudden, unrelenting energy.
It was hard to lie there, still and silent as if I were sleeping peacefully - as if I was the obedient daughter they thought I was - while my mind raced and I tried to work out what the hell this meant.
I don’t know how long my wretched emotions flipped between disbelief to fear to anger and back again, before I finally thought I’d felt everything I could feel.
Most of all, I just wanted Leo. Tears pricked my eyes and I cursed myself for the longing that filled me. The way his arms had wrapped around me, the way he’d made me feel like I could do anything, the way he’d listened to my silly fantasies and dreams…
That was enough for me to finally start thinking again. Maybe this revelation destroyed everything my life had been - but that meant what was left, was mine.
The thought was terrifying and utterly intoxicating. I had no reason to live up to my father’s expectations anymore - I could create whatever kind of life I wanted.
Even if what I wanted was a cocky, infuriating hitman.
A shiver of pleasure spread through me at the idea. I didn’t know how it was going to work yet, but I was going to take the life he’d just begun to show me. Fear and anger gave way to a cold, hard determination.
Whatever happened, one thing was certain: I couldn’t stay here. Not one moment longer.
* * *
I crept back along the dark, empty corridors of the house, terrified of seeing anyone in a way that I hadn’t even considered several hours ago. But now it truly was late enough for everywhere to be deserted.
I steeled myself as I approached my father’s office, but there was no sound or light from inside - the late-night conversation had obviously finished.
Part of me wanted to start running right now and not stop - right back to that house with its idyllic pool and simple village. But I doubted Leo would still be there, and I imagined my attempt to track him down would yield about the same amount of success as everyone else’s had - which was to say, none at all.