Dangerous Beauty: Part Three: This is War
Page 20
Nathan cupped one side of her face and pressed his face against her cheek. “There are no words to describe how much I need to hold you tonight, baby.”
“All right, all right.” She kissed his cheek and took his hand in hers. “Gabriel, have mercy,” she pleaded with her brother.
He rolled his eyes and waved his hand in the air. “Fine, fine. But only because I love those puppy dog eyes of his.”
Carter chuckled at the confused frown on Nathan’s face and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, baby,” she said with a smile as she stood on her toes and kissed his lips. “Carterina will help her big, scary, Russian Underboss get some sleep.” She pulled him along and he stumbled a little, making her giggle, and eventually she got him into their bedroom.
She waited at her door for Gabriel, who came to her with an innocent smile on his lips.
“Please be nice, Gabriel,” she said to him. “And you four, please be nice to him as well. He’s still getting used to being personable. He may come off as an ass, but he’s really a sweetie. Isn’t that right my gorgeous English brother?”
“That’s absolutely right my stunning American sister. Kiss me.”
Carter stood on her toes and gave him a quick kiss on his lips. “Night, hun, love you.”
“I love you more, babe.” After closing the door for her, Gabriel walked over to the couch lining the side of the plane. “Before any of you ask, yes I have a bad attitude for no reason, yes these are Hello Kitty sweats, no I still don’t like any of you, and yes, I’m gay. If you don’t like it then feel free to fuck off. Just be quiet while you’re doing it because I’m sleeping.”
He gave them a wink and a million dollar smile before lying back on the couch and folding his arms under his head.
Robert glance over at the young men just in time to catch Lucca glaring at Dante, mouthing, ‘He’s off limits’.
Very interesting, Robert thought.
Chapter 11: Forgiveness and her story: Anastacia & Cesare
She had talked to Carterina on the phone, but she seemed distant and hesitant for some reason. Now she sat awaiting another call from her. Hopefully, then Carterina would tell her whatever she’d been hesitant to say.
Anastacia nervously tapped her foot against the hardwood floor of the dining room in her daughter’s home. Never before had she ever been so nervous. Never. She’d always had a good hold on her emotions for most of her life. This nervousness, the jitters, the sweat, the subtle fear, this only happened when he got too close for comfort.
Leaning forward on the table in front of her, she buried her face in her hands.
He talked to her, he had to. Anastacia knew that Silas wouldn’t be able to have Carterina in his presence without saying something. Something that could possibly ruin the relationship she’d finally had a chance to build with her daughter. The daughter that he gave to his brother to punish her, the daughter that he kept from her for nearly twenty-three years.
Anastacia closed her eyes, fighting to calm her ever building nerves. The waiting was the hardest part. Almost as hard as putting the hunt for Carterina in Nathan’s hands was, but she been unable to search. Her injury had required immediate surgery the moment she’d gotten to the hospital. She’d fought with everything she had to get out of that hospital, but was bested when they’d sedated her. When she’d woken up, she could barely move yet that didn’t stop her from demanding that she be released. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Angelo’s men to find her daughter, it was just that she knew her soldiers were better.
She hadn’t needed to worry because Nathan had already begun the search. He’d already combined his father’s men, his own men, her men, and his trusted allies and started the war demanding her daughter’s safe return. Anastacia, on the other hand, was recovering but had to be immediately removed from the hospital after she’d woken up from a medically induced sleep to the sight of a man she didn’t know sitting in a chair while watching her. When she’d asked the man what he was doing in her room, he’d only asked her what happened to her. Anastacia hadn’t responded, she just pressed the call button for the nurses. However, before they made it to her room, the man was gone and Anastacia was thoroughly shaken. She knew who had sent him without even asking. It was Silas. Silas had had Carterina, and because of that he’d sent for Anastacia. Anastacia had no plans of ever seeing that man again, and if she ever did, she had no idea what would happen. What could she possibly say to the man that had tormented her for the past twenty-four years except maybe … I want a divorce?
Anastacia took a deep breath and bit down on her bottom lip.
God she was so nervous. Now that she knew Carterina was alive, well, and on her way home, she couldn’t stop worrying. The worst thing for the relationship between Anastacia and her daughter right now would be for Carterina to find out the truth. The truth was that Anastacia had fallen for a monster. Not only did she fall for him, she married him, and allowed him to emotionally and physically abuse her. Luckily—with help— she’d left him after finding out she was pregnant with his children. Twins; a boy and a girl . . .
Slamming her hand against the table, Anastacia snatched up her glass of wine and drank every drop. She opened another bottle of Carter’s wine and refilled her glass to the rim.
Lying to Carterina had never been her intention. All Anastacia wanted to do was protect her child. Protect her from what was too … real.
Protecting her from what’s real? Anastacia could smack herself for being so weak, so stupid. She wasn’t protecting anybody, she was just lying! Not only was she lying to Carter, she was lying to herself. Keeping vital information from Carterina throughout her life was selfishness, pure selfishness. Anastacia wished she could just tell Carterina everything. Just look her baby in the eyes and tell her …
“I couldn’t stay with you, I couldn’t be a mother to you because I fell in love with the wrong man, and have been punished for it for over twenty years. Every time he abused me, I tried to leave. Every time he apologized, I changed my mind. Why would I do that you ask? Why would the cold-hearted, highly feared, and dangerous daughter of Alexis Stone allow a man to abuse her, and go back to him every time he gave her a weak apology? The answer is simply: because I loved him. I loved your father …”
And it was a dark, crippling love that she’d never felt for any man other than Silas Steele. Anastacia would never know how he’d done it, but he’d reeled her in and tethered her to him. It wasn’t a beautiful pull she felt with him, it wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t sweet, and wasn’t some undeniable magnetism. It was more like a leash, wrapped tightly around her neck. Every single time Anastacia got too far away from him, every time she forgot about him and began to move forward with her life, he would yank that leash, if only to remind her that he was still the one in control. He was still the master. And she was nothing but his pet …
Pet. That was what he had called her. “Come to me, pet,” was what he’d say.
And like moth to a flame, Anastacia would go to him. He was her sinful addiction. Her mind told her no, but everything else screamed yes. He made her want to be his. And when she became his love, his pet, she slipped easy into his blissful madness. The world Silas Steele created was dark, magical, carefree, and limitless. Anastacia became the queen of that world. He saved her from the hurt that was in the real world, he saved her from the Luchini family, and he saved her from herself, from loneliness. Anastacia had been at her lowest when Silas walked into her life and he gave her a new world. She clung to it; she clung to him. And she fell madly, deeply in love with the devil himself.
“Anastacia, it is time.”
Anastacia turned around at the sound of Cesare’s voice. She nodded and balanced her hand on the table when she stood to her feet. The pain from her gunshot wound caused her to inhale a sharp breath, but it only lasted for a moment before passing. Cesare handed her the pills she’d been prescribed and a glass of water which Anastacia took quickly. She didn’t want to linger; she knew she was ab
out to be in a lot of pain, and the medication was the only way to make it stop quickly.
“Come in front of me,” Cesare said, guiding her over to him. “You will sit on the table this time, it will keep you from falling.”
“I’m fine standing,” she protested. “Just do it.”
“On the table, Anastacia. I wasn’t asking you, so there was no need for you to deny my request.”
Anastacia rolled her eyes. Cesare Valente was bossy, always had been and always will be apparently. “Fine,” she conceded with a sigh, allowing him to help her sit on the table. “Can I at least help you this time? It will take my mind off of the pain.”
“No,” he answered as he brought the medical supplies over to the table. “Keep your hands at your side, Anastacia Stone. If they get in my way, you’ll regret it.”
She scowled at him. He was so mean, she didn’t remember him being this mean. Cesare had always been so sweet to her, ever since the first day she’d met him decades ago, but that was no more. He had insisted he be the one to stay here with her after she was taken out of the hospital, and he had been taking care of her himself without the help of the nurse. Don’t get Anastacia wrong, she was really grateful for his help and presence in this big, lonely house while she recovered and waited for Nathan to find Carterina, but she really wished he would lose the attitude. He acted like he hated her. He kept to himself all throughout the day until she’d ask him for help. Other than that, she’d only see him when he brought her dinner and changed the bandages on her still healing surgery wound.
She was jerked from her musings when he began to remove the bandage covering her wound. She flinched. “Ow!”
He shot her a glare. “Be still, Ana.”
Asshole! Cesare Valente had become such a dick. Okay, she knew she might be the reason for that, but still, she wished he wouldn’t be so mean to her. She was hoping that the time alone together, though during a stressful time, would … help their relationship. She knew that he was most likely over her romantically, he had to be—Carterina had told her that he only dated younger women—but she did hope that they would at least be able to revive their past friendship. His friendship was what had made her fall in love with him all those years back. The memory of that friendship, that trust that she’d had only for him, was what made it impossible for her to fall out of love with him. It was fucked up, but true. Anastacia had only ever fallen in love with four men in her life, and two of them still had her heart. Cesare was one of them, and the fact that he took care of her like this was not helping her with her problem. She wished she didn’t love him, or Angelo, but she still did. Unfortunately, the past week in this house with Cesare had only served to make her love him more … even though he was a dick.
Silently he lifted her shirt and went about changing her bandages. Once he finished, he gathered the things to be thrown away, threw them in a trash bag, and turned to leave without a word.
“Wait,” Anastacia called, and he paused at the door. “Why don’t you stay in here with me? I mean, we are both waiting for them to land in New York. We might as well wait together.”
Anastacia was sick of the coldness, she was sick of the silence. She got that he hated her, but couldn’t he at least show her a little bit of sympathy. Her daughter had been taken for God’s sake. She’s emotionally fucked up right now, and with this injury weighing her down she felt useless. She could use a little company, a little kindness.
“No,” he replied softly. “You should go lie down. They won’t be landing for another three and a half hours. I’ll bring you something to eat in about an hour.”
When he started to walk away again, Anastacia got down from the table and followed him into the kitchen. She wasn’t lying when she’d said she didn’t want to be alone. Whenever she was alone she thought too much, she remembered too much, and she cried too much. Pathetic was a good way to describe Anastacia’s state right now. She’d locked herself up in her daughter’s home so that she could both recover and hide from the eyes of the world while she was at her weakest, both physically and emotionally. The highly feared and—in her opinion—mediocrely respected Anastacia Stone was not allowed to be this pathetic, she was not allowed to feel, to cry, to embrace such things that were simply human nature. She had to be stone, she had to be emotionless, cold, and she wasn’t allowed to be a worried mother. Well, for the past few powerless days of her life, Anastacia had given the underworld and their expectations of her a big fuck you and embraced being worried, pathetic, in pain, and a terrified, powerless, utterly heartbroken mother. Even now she was shuffling around the house in flannel pajamas that were three sizes too big for her and hung off her shoulder, her hair was a mess, and she was pretty sure she’d be depressed until she was sure Carterina still loved her.
“What are you doing?” he asked, but never stopped walking.
Anastacia bit her bottom lip. She was following him, that’s what she was doing, but she didn’t say that. She just said, “Nothing” softly and continued to follow him until they reached the kitchen. Yes, she was indeed pathetic.
Once they’d finally made it to the kitchen, Cesare stopped at the counter and turned to her with a frown. “Ana, go lie down.”
Anastacia frowned in return. “I am not tired, Cesare. I don’t want to lie down.”
“It doesn’t matter what you want, Ana. It’s about what you need.”
“Well, what I need is company,” Anastacia argued. “You’ve been here with me every day, Cesare, but I still feel like I’m alone! I’m lonely and sad,” she pouted. “Can you not just spend a little bit of time with me?”
Rolling his eyes headed to the refrigerator. Anastacia followed. When he opened the refrigerator and leaned in to look at its contents, Anastacia did the same.
“Go away, woman,” he growled.
“Why must you call me woman like that?” she asked. She was beyond sick of his attitude. “Like I’m a nuisance and I’m bothering you.”
“Because you are bothering me.”
“No, I’m not.” He was really starting to offend her. He should be feeling honored that she wanted to spend time with him anyway. Although she’d always feel bad for what had happened between them, she wasn’t the only one to blame for their failed relationship.
He continued to look through the food as she leaned into the refrigerator closer to him. She didn’t care if he was being mean to her, she wanted to help. She didn’t want to think about her messy, fucked up life right now.
“Cesare,” she whispered. He didn’t answer her and she huffed before whispering his name more sharply, “Cesare!”
This time his head snapped toward her. “What?”
She frowned. “Stop yelling at me.”
His jaw ticked and he released a slow, angry breath. “What?” he said through gritted teeth.
Anastacia smiled softly. “Can we eat the rest of the shrimp fettuccini … and the stuffed chicken?”
His nostrils flared in annoyance. “There’s no more sauce left, Anastacia.”
“Then we will make more.” She reached in and removed the shrimp from the top shelf of the refrigerator. Cesare made the best garlic shrimp with fettuccini noodles. The dish had been mouthwatering. Anastacia had pretty much ate it all by herself. While many stopped eating when they were depressed, Anastacia ate more … a lot more. “It will be fun,” she said with a smile.
Cesare pursed his lips. “Fun for you because you will just watch, Anastacia. Not fun for me because you will bother me while I cook. You should be resting, you are in pain.”
Waving off his concern, Anastacia walked over to the island in the middle of the kitchen that contained all of the appliances they needed. “Please. I can feel nothing. Those strong pain pills have kicked in. I pretty much numb to any form of pain.” She reached out, grabbing a knife from the counter, and held it out to him. “Here,” she said with a mischievous grin, “cut me. I’ll show you I feel no pain.” When his frown only deepened, Anastacia chuckled. “
Too tempting an offer, huh? You’re afraid you might kill the horrible Anastacia?”
After he rolled his eyes at her, he went to pull out the necessary cookware for the dish. “Put that down before you hurt yourself, Ana.”
Anastacia sighed. He was no fun. Here she was trying to joke with him, and he was still being mean. She sat the knife on the counter and stood in front of the stove, waiting for him to get what they needed. Once he had the pan he needed and the remainder of the ingredients, he came back to the stove.
“Move, Anastacia,” he said, nudging her gently.
Anastacia’s expression immediately turned into a pout … and she didn’t even give a fuck. “But I want to help,” she pouted. “Let me cook, too.”
“You can’t cook.”
Anastacia moved closer to him. “Then teach me.” She looked up into his cold, blue eyes. “Please,” she begged. “I want to learn how, Cesare. Stop being so mean to me. I told you long ago that Italian boys have to be nice to African girls.”
Something changed in his eyes when she’d said that … they lost a bit of coldness.
“And why is that, Anastacia?” he asked, setting the items on the counter and beginning to pull out the ingredients.
In the effort of lessening the tension between them, Anastacia took a risk. She knew exactly what to do to get Cesare Valente to loosen up and have fun with her; she wasn’t going to act as if she didn’t. She slowly walked over to him with a playful smile on her lips. Once she reached him, she encircled his arm with hers and stood on her toes, resting her chin on his shoulder. She felt the muscles in his arm tense, but she didn’t step back. He looked at her on his shoulder and she smiled, then answered his question.
“Because, Italian boys love African girls, Cesare Valente.”
When she said the words that she had once said to him when she was just seventeen years old, his eyes suddenly brightened with playful amusement.
There was her Cesare.
Anastacia was young during a time when she was often looked down upon simply because she had dark skin. She and Cesare used to play this game often whenever he’d noticed her beginning to be affected by the horrific things many—including her own blood relatives—used to say to her.