by Bella J
My heart hiccupped, and I’d be the world’s greatest liar if I said hearing those words didn’t fill my belly with a million and one butterflies…even if it was words from the devil’s mouth.
He scooted closer and snaked an arm around my waist. “Telling you what I do would complicate matters, and it’s complications neither of us want to deal with right now.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
He frowned. “Okay?”
“What else do you expect me to say?”
“I kind of expected you to press the matter. Be persistent for an answer.” His smile wasn’t smug or devilish, but handsome. Warm.
“I do have another question, though.”
“Of course you do.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “Lucky for you, it’s four past midnight.”
“Before I ask, you should know I’m not the jealous type.”
He snickered. “Not according to the stunt you pulled in front of Anette a few weeks ago.”
I traced a finger all along the filigree pattern on the fitted sheet. “That woman just rubbed me the wrong way since she set foot on your yacht.”
He smiled and glanced down at me. “What do you want to ask me, Mila?”
I took a few moments to try to rationalize my burning question inside my head, but the truth was there was no rhyme or reason for it…other than a woman’s insecurities. “Have you ever, you know, brought another woman here…to this hotel?”
His brow lifted. “Where is this coming from?”
I placed my hand against his chest but couldn’t look him in the eye. My own insecurities weren’t something I liked exposed—especially not with Saint, as it had been a battle of wit between us from the start. But everything had changed between us, and it had been changing for weeks.
“I’m not naive, Saint. A man like yourself has a very colorful past with numerous lovers.”
I braved a glance at his eyes and was surprised when he leaned forward to kiss me softly, a mere brush of his mouth against mine. “No, Mila,” he breathed against my wet lips, “I have never entertained a lover here in this hotel suite.”
It was futile. I knew that. Whether he had brought a woman here to this bed before wouldn’t change a thing. But knowing he hadn’t eased my insecurities, and the relief soothed me enough so I could close my eyes.
He brushed his fingers through my curls. “Sleep, Mila.”
“Stay,” I whispered and reached out, grabbing his arm. “Don’t let me wake up and you’re not here.”
“Okay.”
We joined Elena and James in the reception area of the hotel after enjoying a breakfast of pastries and fruit. Saint seemed different. Less dark, but not in any way less dominant. His presence still wrapped around me like a cloak of authority. Maybe it was just me who looked at him in a new light. Maybe I was finally able to see past the shadows, past the dark clouds and focus more on the slivers of light that broke through every now and then.
Saint had opted to join me in the back seat on our drive back to the helicopter, and he held my hand the entire way. Elena continued to talk from the front seat about all the time she had spent in Milan, and how she wanted to take me to all the different boutiques instead of just one when we got the chance to come back again. It was easy to see Milan was Elena’s most favorite place on Earth. The way she spoke about all the city had to offer was filled with enthusiasm and awe, and I loved watching her beam with delight.
The helicopter ride back to the Empress was as awesome as our ride to Milan. I couldn’t stop looking out the clear panel and down at the land and sea below us. There were no words to explain how beautiful the world was from a bird’s-eye view. I loved every second of it.
Once we arrived back on the yacht, Saint pulled me closer so he could fuse his lips with mine, and with a simple yet powerful kiss, my body became liquid in his arms.
“I have some business to attend to which will keep me busy for a while.” He stepped back, a somber look on his face. “I know I agreed to let you accompany me to the charity ball tonight, but—”
“Saint, don’t—”
He held up his hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not going back on my word. But I was hoping you’d change your mind and rather stay here on the yacht.”
I inched closer and rested my palms on his chest, his dress shirt soft against my palms. “I want to go with you, and I want to be at your side. Besides, you know how close children’s charities are to me.”
“Sì” he touched my cheek, “I do. I haven’t forgotten about the deal we made when all this started. I’ll keep my word, I promise.”
I merely nodded, and Saint walked off, disappearing below deck with James following suit to attend to business matters he had told me the night before he wouldn’t share with me. I was okay with that. I knew he was no angel. The man kidnapped me and forced me to marry him, so what else was he capable of doing? But after last night, I made the conscious decision to never press for any information or answers when it came to his business affairs. When he said it would add more complications to our already complicated situation, I believed him.
Elena sauntered by and smiled as she handed me a tumbler filled with a red drink and orange peel. “It’s such a beautiful day. Let’s enjoy a delicious Negroni and a little sun before we go get ready for tonight’s gala.”
“Sounds good to me.” If there was one thing I was absolutely beyond thankful for throughout everything that has happened, it was for the friendship Elena and I had formed. Even though she had been loyal toward Saint, she had also been the strength I needed to survive for as long as I did.
“Elena,” I started as we sat down on the recliners, “I want to ask you something.”
“Of course.” She took a sip from her drink and pulled her sunglasses over her head. “What is it?”
“Saint’s dad.” I paused when I noticed her usual carefree expression fall. “I know it’s a touchy subject—clearly,” I mumbled, “but what did he do that has Saint hating him so much?”
Elena cleared her throat and placed her drink on the side table. “Marcello has not told you yet?”
I shook my head.
“I can’t say I’m surprised. His father isn’t something he likes to discuss with anyone.”
“I wouldn’t ask you if I thought I’d get answers from Saint. But I need to know what his father had done to make him go through such drastic measures to get back at him. I feel like knowing this would somehow give me a peek into his mind and help me understand him better.”
Elena studied me for what seemed like ages, her eyes staring at me as if she could reach deep inside my soul. “You’ve fallen for my nephew…haven’t you?”
I didn’t answer. I simply diverted my eyes and nursed my drink.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did, Mila. The Russo men have a certain allure that is hard for women to resist.”
“I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, Elena.” I stared out over the ocean wishing there was a way for me to see into the future. To know the outcome of every decision I still had to make.
Elena slipped her sunglasses back onto her nose and leaned back in the recliner. “It is not my place to tell you what happened between Marcello and his father.”
I huffed, feeling defeated now that Elena wasn’t willing to tell me this huge secret everyone knew about except me.
“But,” she continued, “what I can say is his father did something unforgivable. Something he won’t stop paying for, not while Saint is breathing. I know it’s not the answer you were hoping for, Mila.”
“It’s okay. I understand.” I narrowed my eyes as I watched her soak up the sun. “However, I do know how you can make it up to me.”
She pulled her glasses halfway down her nose. “Make it up to you?”
I shot her a sly grin. “Humor me, would you?”
“Fine,” she huffed.
“Could you do a reading for me?”
“A tarot reading?”
“Please.”
Elena sat up and glanced toward the stairs and back at me, a mischievous smile on her face. “Okay. But Marcello can’t know. He’s not a big fan of my readings.”
I motioned as if zipping my lips. “Not a word.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she reached for her purse, pulling out the stack of cards.
I frowned. “You carry them with you?”
“Of course. You never know when you may need them,” she replied with a wink.
She pulled the table closer and settled it between us. “The cards guide us by giving us an insight of our past. Our present. And our future.” She positioned the deck of cards in the middle of the table. “Now, I need you to close your eyes. You need to focus. Think about everything that’s going on right now, about how you feel. Think about your family. Your mom who you’ve never met. Marcello. Let your energy guide you while you cut the deck into three.”
I closed my eyes, my mind a minefield of memories, good and bad. Memories I thought were long forgotten. I thought about those endless nights I used to cry myself to sleep wishing I had a mom who could tuck me in and whisper how much she loved me. And then Saint was there. His face. His presence. It dominated each and every other memory, pushing them to the farthest corners of my mind.
I reached for the deck of cards and gently split it in three.
“Good. Now, open your eyes.”
There was a slight twinge of nerves in my belly as I watched Elena reach for the top card of the pile on her left and turn it. “The Three of Swords.”
I licked my lips anxiously and stared at the pierced heart. Surely that can’t be good.
“The Moon,” Elena said softly as she turned the second card.
She reached for the third card and glanced up at me with reassuring eyes. Her fingers hovered over the third card. “This one is your future card.”
I swallowed and watched with anticipation as she slowly turned it, then her eyes shot up to mine.
“The Empress.”
I let out a laugh. “Ironic, since this yacht is called the Empress.”
Elena didn’t smile. In fact, she hardly seemed amused.
“So,” I shrugged, “what do the cards say?”
She pulled her hair back over her shoulders, and it was hard to miss how uncomfortable she came across. It wasn’t assuring at all.
“Well, the Three of Swords is your past. And hardly surprising since it means heartbreak. Division. Betrayal. It makes sense since…well—”
“Since my parents gave me up.” It still stung, the reality of it. I always thought the reason my parents had to have had for giving me up would change how I felt about it. Possibly redeem them. But not even a decades-old debt had the power to make it less painful.
“The second card. The Moon.”
“My present?”
“Yes.” She looked up, her eyes soft with compassion. “It’s a warning.”
My stomach turned. “A warning of what?”
“That everything isn’t as it seems.”
I shrugged. “I guess that makes sense in this current situation I’m in.”
“It’s also a message, Mila. A message for you to trust your intuition. Trust your instincts to look past the illusion of lies and deceit.”
It was like someone had poured concrete into my stomach, Elena’s words laden with warning.
She glanced at the third card. The Empress. “You need to be careful, Mila. Especially since—”
“What the hell is going on here?”
Elena shot to her feet and Saint’s large frame casted a shadow over the deck of cards. “I was just—”
“You know how I feel about card readings, Elena.” There was no mistaking the anger in his voice, the animosity that radiated in waves off him and toward his aunt.
I stood straight and took Elena’s hand, trying to move in front of her. “It was my idea. I asked her to do a reading for me.”
He didn’t take his glare off Elena. It was as if he didn’t even hear me speak, as if he refused to acknowledge my existence…until his eyes caught sight of the cards. Grooves formed on his forehead, and he shot a warning glare her way, an entire conversation taking place without a word being spoken. But I felt it, I felt something pass between them, something I wasn’t supposed to pick up on.
I took two steps and leaned into Saint. “I asked her to do a reading for me. Besides, it’s only cards. There’s not much truth to it.”
When he looked my way, I could see there were words burning on the tip of his tongue, begging to reprimand and scorn. And I anticipated it with squared shoulders, yet he proceeded to surprise me by biting his tongue.
“Elena, would you assist Mila in getting ready for the ball? Also, pack an overnight bag, as we’ll be staying at a hotel in Rome for the night.”
“Of course, Marcello. Come, Mila. We have much to do.”
I tore my gaze from his, about to step around him, when he grabbed my elbow and pulled me close, crashing his lips against mine, kissing me as if my taste was the antidote to the poison that blackened his soul. Our mouths were locked in a passionate kiss for five seconds which seemed to last a lifetime. It was amazing how his lips could make all the bad around us disappear, placing the entire world on mute.
He broke the kiss and leaned back as he scrutinized me from top to bottom. “You feeling okay?”
“Yes. Why?”
“No reason. I just remembered in the elevator you weren’t feeling well.”
I smiled. “I’m fine now. Promise.”
“Good.” His expression softened. “Now, go put on that red dress I’d like to tear from your body later.”
I shot him a lopsided grin. “Demanding much?”
“Oh, you have no idea.”
“I think I do.” I bit my lip as heat spread across my cheeks and turned around to walk the other way. I made sure I swayed my hips just a little extra since I could basically feel his heated stare on my ass.
17
Saint
“Did you find out anything?” I slammed the door shut as I entered my study where James waited.
“He’s going to be there.”
“Son of a bitch.” I stomped across the room.
“It only makes sense for him to be there since he’s the only person who can represent the Torres family.”
I took a seat and clasped my fists together. “I don’t trust him near her.”
“I don’t blame you. Especially if he knows about that added clause to his father’s will.”
“Any indication that he does?”
James shook his head. “If he does know, he’s doing a pretty good job at being ignorant.”
“My father knows about it, which makes me wonder how he’s planning on playing it.”
“What do you mean?”
I brushed my fingers against my jaw. “If I was my father, there would be two ways I’d want to play it. One, tell Raphael and try to manipulate him into doing my bidding. Two, not tell Raphael and see how it plays out, hoping the fucker will be dumb and greedy enough to do something stupid, which would in turn keep his hands clean.”
James narrowed his eyes. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but if Raphael does something stupid, would that not involve hurting Mila?”
My stomach turned inside out. “Yeah. It does.”
“What are we hoping for here?”
I rubbed my temples, the weight of the entire goddamn universe crushing my shoulders. “I don’t know, man. I honestly don’t fucking know. If Raphael acts like the greedy fucker I know him to be, Mila will get hurt. If my father acts like the manipulating asshole I know he is, Mila will get hurt. Fuck!” I slammed my fist on the table. “For the first time, I’m in a motherfucking Catch-22 situation in this war with my father. I’m fucked no matter what my father decides to do.”
James tapped his finger on the armrest of his chair, an annoying habit he had picked up from me over the years. “It’s because you didn’t count on falling for the Torres girl. She w
asn’t supposed to be anything more than collateral damage.”
I narrowed my eyes at him as the back of my neck tingled with annoyance. “I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.”
James smirked. “Listen, man, look at it this way. It’s not this thing between you and Mila—whatever it is—that’s complicating shit. It’s that motherfucking clause no one knew about that’s fucking us all in the ass.”
“I don’t get it, though,” I muttered as I tried to wrap my head around it. “I don’t understand why Torres did what he did, and then change his will at the last minute with the added instruction it be kept secret until—”
“Until either of the stipulations are met.”
“Exactly. I mean, I understand why he had the loophole of leaving ten percent to his firstborn, in case Mila ever did return home to the family. But this? I don’t get it.”
James got up and started pacing, something he did often when he felt frustrated and enclosed in a situation which seemed impossible to breach.
“James, listen.” I sat straight and leaned my elbows on the desk. “Maybe, if we’re lucky, we’ll have a little time to plot this out. At the moment, I own the majority shares in the company, which means my father can’t do shit with Raphael’s shares.”
“Hence the reason they haven’t finalized the deal yet.”
“Exactly. We just need to try to figure out how we can get two steps ahead rather than one in this race toward power.” I sighed then glanced at my wristwatch. “We need to get ready. Let’s get tonight behind us, maybe take the weekend to recoup.”
“Yes, sir.” He headed to the door when I called him back. “James.”
“Yeah?”
“I need security doubled around her tonight.”
He nodded. “Already done.”
“Thanks.”
James exited the room, and I closed my eyes as I leaned back in the chair. It was safe to say nothing was going according to plan with too many variables being added to the battlefield. Variables I hadn’t anticipated. Variables I had no weapons against. If someone had asked me months ago if there was anything in this entire world that would make me want to stop my pursuit of my father’s ruin, my answer would be one fat ‘fuck no.’ But now I was no longer so sure. Mila was a hurricane I wasn’t prepared for. A storm that capsized my plans and forced me to relook at everything from a different point of view. She managed to open my eyes, and I couldn’t help but wonder what my life would be like without this rage that had been festering inside me for years. I wondered what life would be like if it were just us, when my father and past conflicts didn’t feature in our lives at all. It scared the shit out of me, the fact that I had come to a point where my need for revenge was dissipating while my desire for some resemblance of peace heightened. All because of the woman who started out as nothing more than a signature. A pawn that was a mere thorn in my side because she was a liability, a necessary evil.