Beautiful Deception

by Morgan James

  “I didn’t want to restrict any physical features, because hair and eye color can easily be changed. I’ll need you to look at the photos of each girl—specifically the facial structure—to be sure we’ve got the right one.”

  “No problem.”

  “First batch is on its way to you now.”

  I clicked open the email he’d sent and found five images attached. I opened the first photo and scanned it. The girl was pretty, with blonde hair and blue eyes, but she wasn’t my Jules. I did the same for the other four images. “Not her.”

  “Okay. Next group.”

  I shook my head as I examined all five of those. “Not in these.”

  The last batch had six photos, none of which were Jules. I let out a growl and crossed my arms over my chest as I slumped back in my seat. “Damn. I thought for sure she would be there.”

  “There’s one more.”

  Attention captured, I sat forward a bit, already reaching for the mouse. “Send it over.”

  “There are no verified photos that I can find,” Doyle remarked cautiously. “She’s practically a ghost aside from her birth certificate. There was nothing else in the system—no driver’s license, no student ID, nothing.”

  What the hell ever. I didn’t give a goddamn as long as it would lead me to Jules. “And?”

  The exasperation in my tone was evident, and a long pause on his end ratcheted up my anxiety tenfold. Finally, he blew out a harsh breath. “Before I send this over to you, I need to ask you a question.”

  His tone immediately set me on edge, and I answered warily. “What’s that?”

  “How well do you know this girl?”

  The question sent tendrils of anger and heat snaking through my body in equal measure. I was fucking sick and tired of people questioning my relationship with her. I knew her better than anyone. I knew her hopes and dreams for the future. I knew every inch of her body like the flesh that covered my own, and the blood that raced through my veins. I swallowed down the retort that jumped to the tip of my tongue. He had every right to ask since I’d reached out to him to find her true name. I answered as honestly as possible. “As well as anyone could, given her past.”

  There was another slight pause, then— “Did she ever tell you anything, allude to what may have happened?”

  “No,” I admitted. I wished I’d pushed harder, convinced her to trust me. “She said...” I choked on the words and started over. “She said she was engaged, but she didn’t give me a name. Didn’t say anything about him.”

  The thought of her with another man still made my gut burn with jealousy.

  “Nothing else?”

  I dropped my head into the palm of my hand and closed my eyes. “I have a feeling she’s from the Chicago area, but that was only based off of a conversation we had months ago. She was always reserved, even with me.”

  Doyle made a little sound. “You grew up there, right?”

  “Til just a few years ago.”

  “I remember you.”

  I jerked back at his words. “From when?”

  “Our teams worked together on the Capaldi crime case. I was at the warehouse that night. I didn’t remember your name at first, but after Frankie told me about you...”

  I knew exactly where he was going with that. It would be hard to forget the SWAT member who’d damn near had his head severed off by a crime boss. Unbidden, my hand moved to my throat.

  “Capaldi was killed, but his brother took over operations.”

  “Yeah,” I breathed. “I’d heard that.”

  Doyle spoke haltingly. “We researched the family for several months before we decided to move in. The bureau had Ignacio on their watch list for years, but he was a slippery fuck—always managed to evade any snare we set for him. I knew there was a brother—Massimo—but he wasn’t there that night, for whatever reason.

  “There wasn’t much information on the other family members, so I didn’t make the connection immediately. I went back through birth records, just to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. Capaldi and his wife never had a son; their only child was a daughter who was sixteen at the time.” He paused, letting that bit of information hang in the air for a moment. “Which would put her right around twenty now.”

  My heart stopped, and breath suspended in my lungs at the implication. No. It couldn’t be. “How certain?” I forced the words from my lips.

  Doyle sighed. “Damn near positive.”

  “Okay.” I couldn’t think of one single other thing to say at that moment.

  His words sounded far away when he spoke. “Information is on its way over to you.”

  I managed a thanks and hung up. It didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be real. How could she do this? In startling clarity, I saw the events of the last few days line up. She’d begun to pull away after I told her about the mission and what had happened at the warehouse. I thought she was overcome with sympathy and pity for me. Instead, she’d been thinking of her father, a man who had tried to kill me and died at the hands of my partner instead.

  I felt sick. I’d made love to her. Asked her to marry me. And she was the only child of the man who had tried to take my life. Where did her loyalties lie? Maybe she had left on her own, gone back to her fiancé—back to her family. I didn’t want to believe it, but I couldn’t refuse the evidence waving like a red flag in front of my face. It was entirely possible that she’d set this whole thing up. She wouldn’t have driven her Cavalier; she was too smart for that. I could have it reported as stolen and have her found within hours.

  By leaving everything behind and having someone come to collect her, she could effectively disappear from my life like she’d never been there at all. I hated her in that moment. Worse, I hated myself more. Because deep down, I was still in love with her.

  Nineteen

  Giuliana

  Though I wanted to ask a thousand questions, I bit my lip and bided my time. Matteo had been silent the whole way home. He stared out the window, lost in thought, and I sneaked peeks at him every few seconds. I couldn’t begin to imagine what he was feeling right now. He’d killed his own father... for me.

  When we were younger, Matteo and I had spoken of what we wanted to do when we grew up. Even then it had been bittersweet and tinged with longing, knowing that it would never come to pass. We would never be free of the bonds of la famiglia. Whether he wanted it or not, Matteo was now head of the Capaldi family.

  Headlights swept over the gates with the family crest on them, and they swung inward, allowing us entrance. I turned my gaze on the perfectly manicured lawn of my uncle’s home. It was a veritable fortress, with eight-foot walls surrounding the five-acre plot of land on the outskirts of town. Soldiers armed with rifles patrolled inside and out, ensuring no breach of security. It looked harsh and cold, yet its familiarity tugged at my heart.

  I wished things had turned out differently. I hated my uncle, but I never would have wished death on him. I closed my eyes against the memory of his blood staining the wall and ceiling, forcing down the bile that rose once more in my throat.

  Matteo had taken the position of capo by force, and I was sure some of the soldiers were shaken and confused. I’d seen it written in their faces at the restaurant. We’d left immediately after the conclusion of the meeting with Fox, so I had no idea what they’d done with the body. Massimo had been head of the family and therefore deserved a proper burial. Though I had no desire to attend the funeral, I knew I didn’t have a choice. I was bound by familial duty to attend. Once it was over, I could finally close this chapter of my life and move on.

  The car slowed to a stop in front of the huge, carved wooden doors of my uncle’s home, and the motion snapped Matteo from his trance. Johnny climbed from the driver seat, and I met his gaze as he held my door open. “Thank you.”

  Matteo nodded to him, then took my elbow and guided me up the stone steps. Inside the house, he escorted me to my room, then sat on the edge of my bed. Stonily still, he stared at the
thick carpet beneath his feet. For several long moments, we remained quiet until I could no longer bear it.

  “I can’t begin to thank you,” I said softly.

  Matteo met my eyes, and the emotion in the dark depths rendered me speechless. It spoke of sheer torment, an anguish I’d never seen before. He turned slightly toward me and grasped both of my hands in his. “He should’ve listened. I couldn’t let him give you away.” He gave his head a little shake. “I couldn’t stand it.”

  I squeezed his hands, and tears sprang to my eyes. “None of this was your fault. You did what you had to do. You saved me, and I owe you my life.”

  His dark gaze slid over my face. “I would do anything for you, principessa. He deserved it after everything he did.”

  A niggling memory appeared in the back of my mind. “Matteo... Did he have anything to do with Daddy’s death?”

  His eyes closed for a moment, and he drew in a deep breath. “He wasn’t supposed to die.”

  My heart thumped to an abrupt stop at the truth I’d been waiting to hear. Somehow, deep down, I knew my uncle was responsible. “What happened?”

  “Massimo wanted your father out of the way. He thought he was getting complacent in his dealings with the Russians, and Massimo suggested an attack. Your father refused. Massimo wanted control of the entire city. If he could get your father out of the way, he thought he could push the Bratva out by force.

  “He tipped off the Feds about an incoming shipment at the warehouse. I think your father knew something was happening, because they argued about a week beforehand, and things became very tense.”

  I remembered that, too. I recalled them sequestered in a corner at Richie’s one night, my father’s face angry and dark. Now I knew the rest of the story as well. Was that the reason Daddy did what he’d done? The Feds would have arrested him had they captured him. Had he chosen death instead? I had a feeling I’d never know for sure, and my heart dropped to my toes.

  “I’m sorry,” Matteo said quietly. “I knew what he meant to you.”

  I gave him a weak smile, though I still felt slightly sickened by what had taken place. “What about Mama? Does she know?”

  Matteo’s gaze shifted away. “I don’t know.”

  There was something about his discomfort that piqued my curiosity. “Matteo... Where is my mother?”

  He cleared his throat before speaking. “Last I heard, she was on Molina.”

  Our family owned a small chain of islands in the Caribbean, and the name of the largest one where my father’s villa was located jumped out at me. I stared at him. “Is she there for safety reasons?”

  He gave a slight shake of his head. “No, principessa.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Any normal mother would have torn the world apart to find her child if they disappeared. Mine apparently went on vacation. The last sliver of hope I’d held onto for reconciliation hardened and dropped away from my heart. Anger and disappointment rendered me mute for another long minute.

  “Can I ask you something?” Matteo tipped his head slightly to one side, giving me the confidence to continue. “How did he find me?”

  “Sheer luck.” His chest rose, then fell. “We traced you to Champaign until the signal on your phone stopped moving. Massimo got ahold of the video from the mall parking lot and figured out what kind of vehicle you were in. One of Massimo’s contacts was able to get footage from a toll booth on I-39. He had every available man on the hunt, searching through hours of video footage until they finally saw you pass through.

  “We knew you’d gone west. After that, it was anyone’s guess. The trail went cold, and we’d almost given up. Then one day Patrick’s wife was looking around online, making reservations for a ski trip. She came across this new resort in Montana, and Pat brought a picture to my attention. Standing there in the middle of a construction zone...” His voice softened. “I’d know your face anywhere.”

  I closed my eyes against the tears burning behind my lids. That damn picture. Mia had taken it during the initial phase of renovation and asked if it was okay to use when she showcased the development of the spa online. Though I’d debated it, I hadn’t seen the harm in allowing her to post it. After all, it’d been taken from the side so most of my features were obscured. There was no mention of my name, and I’d been careful to cover my tracks after I’d fled Chicago. Apparently, I hadn’t been careful enough.

  I blinked my eyes open again and found Matteo’s gaze on me, fierce and determined. “I was so upset when you ran away—but I understand why you did it.”

  I nodded, emotion still clogging my throat. “I’m sorry I left you to deal with him alone. But the thought of ending up with Nikolai, or worse...”

  “I should have tried harder.” He reached out and raked his fingers gently through the long strands of my hair and arranged them over my shoulders. It felt strange to have him touch me so intimately, but he seemed lost in thought as he curled one lock around his finger, and I forced myself to remain still. After a long moment, he continued. “I didn’t have the resources in place to help you when Massimo arranged your marriage to Nikolai. I had only just met Fox, and I needed a strong ally to take him down.”

  Grateful tears clogged my throat, and I swallowed them down. “I just... you have no idea what this means to me. To finally be free. Uncle was terrible, to both of us. Now I feel like I can finally breathe again; I can finally move on.”

  “Now we can move on,” he corrected with a small smile.

  My brows drew together. He had to know I didn’t plan to stay. “Matteo, I—”

  His thumb swept over my bottom lip, halting my words. “I’m so glad you’re back, Giuliana. God, I feel like I’ve waited so long for this. Just you and me, principessa. The way it was meant to be.”

  My stomach clenched with dread as a new light entered his eyes. He leaned forward as if to kiss me, and I jerked backward. Bringing one hand up between us, I placed it on his chest. “Matteo, what are you doing?”

  He placed one large hand over mine, holding it against his heart. “You belong here with me. With Fox’s alliance, and our union, we will be unstoppable.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t stay here.”

  A furrow appeared between his brows, and he took both of my hands in his own larger, stronger ones. “Of course you can.” He said it like there was no other choice. “With you back in your rightful place, we’ll be stronger than ever.”

  “No.” I met his dark gaze. “I’m not staying.”

  “You are.” He squeezed my hands so tightly that I could feel the bones compress.

  I let out a soft cry. “Matteo, stop! You’re hurting me!”

  His grip eased a fraction, but he didn’t release my hands. “This is your home, Giuliana. You were bred for this role. You were meant to be queen of this city.”

  “I don’t want this life, I never have.” I shook my head. “You know how awful it is; I don’t want my children to grow up this way. I want better for them.”

  His dark eyes bore into me. “Our children will have better.”

  A niggling of trepidation lifted the hairs on the back of my neck. He meant our respective children, right? Because there was no way he could be inferring what I thought he was. We grew up together; we were family. For a multitude of reasons, there could never be anything between us.

  I finally managed to pull my hands away and gave my head a little shake, speaking softly as I tried to make my point. “You’ve been like a brother to me, and I appreciate it more than I can say. You’ve done so much for me—but I don’t belong here.”

  One huge hand cupped the back of my neck, and the possessive move took my breath away as his expression changed, became deeper and darker. “This is your place, Giuliana. You’re staying.”

  Anger rose up, swift and hot. I ripped myself from his grasp and stumbled to my feet. “I’m not!”

  He stood, towering over me, a fierce glare twisting his expression. “This is not up for discussion. This is y
our home. You’re not leaving.”

  “I did it once,” I snapped. “I’ll do it again.”

  His eyes flashed, and he moved before I could blink. Sweeping me upward, the motion stole my breath as his shoulder slammed into my midsection, and I was flung upward.

  Hanging upside down, I pounded my fists on his back. “Put me down! Let me go!”

  Long, hard fingers curled into the back of my thigh, the pain immediate and acute, and I let out a little squeal as I kicked against the sensation. “Matteo, stop! Please!”

  I watched upside down as he stormed through the house. My dress rode high on my hips, and I knew my ass was exposed to everyone we passed. Shame and humiliation coursed through me, immediately followed by anger. “Don’t do this!”

  My heart clenched in fear as we approached uncle Massimo’s office—Matteo’s office now. Oh, God. “Not the closet, Matteo, please!”

  His hand slipped between my thighs, and I sucked in a breath at the intrusion. He pinched the sensitive flesh hard, eliciting a stifled scream. His footsteps thundered across the hardwood, and he dumped me unceremoniously inside the closet, then slammed the door.

  Fury propelled me to my feet. I’d been in the same closet only a few hours ago, and now we had come full circle once more. I expected something like this from my uncle, but Matteo? He had always been my protector, my defender. How could he do this to me?

  “Let me out!” I beat on the door, but only silence met my angry demands. “Don’t do this!”

  “I will never forgive you!” I screamed. I knew he waited just on the other side, listening to my pleas but refusing to help. I pounded both fists against the door as hard as I could. “You’re no better than him! I hate you both!”

  At that, the door was flung open, and my momentum carried me forward, right out the door where I landed in a heap at Matteo’s feet.

  The wood floor was cool against my cheek as Matteo swept my knees out from under me and grabbed both of my hands in his. His bruising grip wrapped around both of my tender wrists, and he stretched my arms high over my head. He settled himself on my hips, pressing me into the hard floor, and I heard the harsh rip of tape being torn from a roll.