The Enforcer (Vengeful Empire #3)

Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

V alencia

Little white lies weren’t bad. Were they?

That’s not entirely what I’d done when talking with my sister. I’d simply laid out some clues. Now I felt awful for doing so. Not just because I might have placed her life in danger, but also because my mind was all over the place regarding how I felt about Christos. I was tired of the flip-flop, angry with myself for thinking I was some femme fatale and could gain his trust by seducing him.

That just about gutted me.

Passion.

Was it worth losing everything I’d worked for, everything I loved? The answer was easy and responsible. No.

What about love? That was dicey at best, the answer complicated. Did I even feel anything other than lust for the man? I couldn’t make a qualified answer at this point without lying to myself. Did I care about him? Yes. I did. It was crazy to think that way after only knowing him for a week. What did I really know about him anyway?

I paced the beautiful bedroom I’d been given for almost an hour after he’d left, going over those questions time and time again. What I knew about him was mostly based on the heated desire that seemed to consume both of us.

He was the best-looking man I’d ever laid eyes on.

He was hot and amazing as a lover.

He was gentle when necessary, rough when I needed it the most.

He was well mannered and highly intelligent.

His family was amazing.

And he was an admitted killer.

That didn’t really scream full-time relationship material. Besides there was the long-distance aspect and I certainly wasn’t moving to Greece. I couldn’t even imagine what I’d need to go through to get my medical license.

What was I doing to myself? Torture. It was sheer torture.

I didn’t even know his favorite food, although I had a feeling he’d say that was me. I giggled at the thought then wrinkled my nose as I walked into the kitchen. Now I was moving head on into high school girl behavior. I hadn’t even acted so giddy when I was there.

The one thing I wasn’t proud of was drawing him into a romantic moment just before he’d left. I’d wanted it too, but I’d used it to keep him from thinking I was somehow involved. I just couldn’t believe he thought I could have anything to do with hurting anyone. My thoughts drifted for the fourth time to what the Italian Don had said.

Maybe the man was trying to pit Christos against me. Why? To keep him occupied so Christos didn’t see what might be coming? Like a real massacre? Oh, God. What was I thinking?

Wine. I need glasses of wine. Maybe a bottle.

No, what I needed was to get the hell out of here. I wasn’t certain what I’d do, but I needed to get a distance away to think.

Little had he known I’d been sneaky while he was talking with his soldier, using an app on my phone to determine where we were. I’d also mapped out the easiest and shortest way to try to get help. There were some small businesses less than two miles away. I could walk that easily, especially in my tennis shoes.

I’d yet to find the courage to consider walking out the door. There was the issue of the guards protecting the place. Shit. What was I thinking?

I’d duped the man I cared about into sex. Where had that gotten me? Craving him even more. I was sick with need to be close to him and that wasn’t like me.

I stood in the kitchen, staring out the window at the incredible view. Between the mountains I could see in the distance and knowing the ocean was just beyond the trees, I could bask in the moment. He also had a pool and if I could relax, it would be wonderful to take a dip in the cool water.

Great. Now I was really losing my mind. Thinking about swimming when for all I knew, Christos could be convinced I’d been involved? No. I couldn’t go down that road.

So I stood and stared.

The late afternoon sun provided the most beautiful backdrop, the warm glow shining in through the oversized windows and doors creating a shimmering effect on every appliance. He’d yet to show me around his home, but I’d taken it upon myself to learn more about him by myself.

Wine. I found several bottles in a small wine closet, selecting a merlot I’d never tried before.

The wine opener was easy to find, the crystal glasses as well. I poured a good amount, taking a sip and savoring the flavor as I thought about everything that had transpired. Was my father somehow involved in what had occurred in New York? Had he been calling with concern or to berate me? It bothered me that I wasn’t certain which.

I was slowly remembering Mr. Baker, although I’d only seen him a couple of times. One had been at a fundraiser event. He’d been very nice, but that wasn’t the measure of a man. If only I could return my father’s call and slyly ask him a few pointed questions. Perhaps that’s something Christos would allow me to do. He deserved to know what was going on.

Or maybe the trust factor would never be there between us. I had no idea what to think. I moved around the kitchen, running my fingers over the granite counter and the gorgeous commercial stove that I wondered if he ever used.

Not that I could. I hadn’t told him a lie. I was a terrible cook.

A smile crossed my face as memories rushed to the surface. I’d so enjoyed the time we’d spent together, the tragedy the exception. But the reception leading up to the horror had been amazing.

I could certainly envision getting married on the estate.

“Girl. What are you thinking?” I left the kitchen, determined to learn more about him. When I passed by the foyer, I stopped and had a thought. As soon as I opened the door, Luca appeared. His expression was hard to read as he approached.

“Is there anything wrong, Dr. Laurant?”

“I think you can call me Valencia.” I tried to soften him by smiling. He wasn’t buying it, barely nodding. “Nothing is wrong. I just wanted to take a walk.”

“Why not spend time on the patio instead?” He wasn’t just suggesting. He was requiring that I return to the house.

“Okay. Would you like something to drink? You can come inside or I’ll bring it to you.”

He seemed surprised. “I’m fine.” He was certainly very cautious around me.

“Okay then. I’ll go back inside.” But I didn’t do so right away. Not without scanning the perimeter. I noticed four guards, two walking and two standing near a clump of trees talking. I shifted my gaze to the side, noticing there was a path leading from the back of the property. It didn’t appear used very often since most was covered by a bank of trees and colorful flowers.

I made a mental note before returning inside.

After closing the door, I thought about what I should do. Neither choice brought any sense of peace. Either stay and wait until his return, try to see what I could do to help him, convincing the man I was trustworthy, or leave. Then what? Yes, I had cash and my identification including a credit card and I’d even shoved my passport into my back pocket. Christos hadn’t thought to take that away from me.

Did I really think I’d make it to the airport and on a flight before he tracked me down?

Unrest remained in my system from not knowing what to do. My personality wasn’t like this. It had never been. I wandered through the house, ending up in his office. Why was it that all powerful men had larger offices than their bedrooms in their homes? I laughed softly as I walked in, admiring the room as I did every other one in the house.

His furniture was massive and dark, suiting such a powerful man. With an entire wall of bookshelves and a hutch doubling as a small bar, the area held an aura of sophistication. But the rug on the polished maple wooden floor was playful in dazzling colors of reds, blues, and greens. I could only imagine how expensive the piece had been. Even the group of three leather chairs in a circle, a round glass coffee table located in the center seemed perfect for the setting.

It was the art on the walls that held my attention.

Colorful and bold in design, the artwork appeared three dimensional, holding my rapt gaze for longer than they should. They were evocative, almost erotic in nature yet subtle. I moved closer, glancing from one piece to the other before making my way to the bookshelves. They went all the way up to the ceiling, which was taller, at least at eight feet, maybe more. As I’d seen in libraries, there was a ladder allowing for ease of selection on the top two shelves.

His tastes were as eclectic as the man. Titles ranged from Moby Dick to George Orwell’s 1984. There were some thrillers from authors Tom Clancy and Clive Cussler as well. And he even had an ancient-looking set of encyclopedias. Why did that surprise me so much?

I continued sipping my wine, noticing one shelf was dedicated to nothing but photographs, above it several old photo albums. The pictures were of family gatherings. One caught my eye. It was of four younger men who looked very much alike. They all had different color eyes, but the same quirky smile and thick, luxurious sweeps of hair.

They appeared happy, all smiling and their arms locked around each other. It was obvious the photograph had been taken in Corfu. I couldn’t imagine the pain they’d felt in losing Leandro.

The other photographs were similar, including one picture from at least two decades before, both their father and mother appearing much younger. And if I wasn’t mistaken, the young girl in the photo was Willow.

Their family had been close, much more so than I’d experienced. My father had kept secrets because he’d been forced to by his job. We’d taken vacations, but there’d always been tension. I’d finally discovered what having a huge, loving family was like.

Sadness swept through my system and I was forced to admit to myself this just wasn’t my life and it never could be. The back and forth had to stop. I couldn’t allow my feelings for him to interfere with making a rational decision. I placed the frame exactly where I’d found it, resisting the urge to pull down the books.

I couldn’t get any closer to him. If I did, I would lose my life back in New York. What if he had no plans on allowing me to leave? The thought wasn’t that strange. He’d made comments that I belonged to him more than once. His possessiveness had been tantalizing at first, but I wasn’t the kind of women to be trapped or kept.

The thought sounded ridiculous when thinking it in my mind, but as he’d told me, he didn’t like to lose. I took another sip of wine and suddenly, the taste was bitter.

What if I went back to New York and confronted my father? Would that help the situation? Or would I learn something that I really didn’t want or need to know? I did want to help Christos and his family discover the truth and I could be the sole person capable of doing so.

But that meant getting back to New York. What I was thinking was risky to a point, but there would be no other opportunity. I was certain of that.

I turned and glanced at the door then down to my watch. He’d been gone for almost an hour and a half. If I wanted to leave and make it somewhere safe before dark, it was now or never. My mind drifted to the times we’d shared, but I managed to shove the emotions aside. He simply wanted a possession to fondle and fuck when he was in the mood.

No, it was best I leave before I changed my mind again. I placed the wine on his desk, scurrying out of his room and flying up the stairs. All I needed were a few pieces of clothing and I could put several items into the carryon bag.

After grabbing my makeup and toiletries, I shoved a couple of shirts and some lingerie into the bag, adding a skirt that was all purpose just in case. The tennis shoes would need to do. What I’d purchased for the wedding wouldn’t fit. What the hell. They were just clothes.

I shoved my passport into the side pocket and rushed back down the stairs heading to the back. I’d have one chance of getting away and I needed to hurry.

After scanning the perimeter and seeing no one, I kept close to the house as I moved to the side where I’d seen the path. It was there, the stones parallel to the driveway. I made my way along the pathway, keeping an eye out for any guards. I didn’t see anyone as I walked, but I did hear voices, two men speaking in their native Greek.

I stopped once, peeking out from the trees. No one was paying any attention and I’d managed to remain silent. Only a minute later, I was able to see the tall stone pillars flanking the two sides of the driveway. There was also a massive iron gate, but I’d noticed an area of the wall that I might be able to climb over if necessary.

By the time I reached the end of the driveway, I was a nervous wreck. With no phone, I’d need to ask if I could use someone else’s in a store. Maybe they’d allow me. Or maybe I’d catch a cab and head directly to the airport. I’d sleep there if necessary.

“Shit.” The gate I’d noticed was locked and there was no chance of picking it. I’d be forced to climb the wall. Of course it was much taller than I’d remembered. I studied it, feeling the areas of stone in hopes I could find one not perfectly symmetrical to the others.

It took a few minutes of precious time, but I managed to get lucky. I closed my eyes briefly, praying I was doing the right thing before stepping onto the stone. The climb was a little more precarious than I’d imagined and I was forced to toss the bag over the wall before making my way to the top.

By the time I did, it was apparent I needed to spend more time in the gym. After catching my breath, I held back every groan I felt and slid over the top. At least there was soft grass on the other side. I dropped down, landing on my butt. Of course I did.

What the hell are you doing? You’re crazy.

Yes, I was.

As soon as I stood, wiping my backside with my hands, a jolt of electricity rolled through me. Oh, fuck. Very slowly I turned around, exhaling as I noticed Christos leaning against the hood of his car with his arms folded and his legs crossed at the ankle.

And he was wearing a huge, smug smile.

“Are you going somewhere, my little angel?”