7. Corey
7
COREY
I woke up with a smile on my face. I’d dreamed about Mr. Marchesi—should I call him Dominic now that he’d seen me naked? In the dream, he’d accepted my proposition, and I encouraged him to lie on the bed while I rode his dick. He’d looked up at me with such intensity, I’d thought it would kill me. I’d woken up before either of us finished, which was probably good. I didn’t want to have to ask for a change of sheets like I was a teenager.
Dom had scowled at me when I’d suggested he stay with me, but I could see the interest in his eyes. He wanted me. I was sure of it. What would it be like to really be with him? Would I get to find out?
Leave him alone. He’s dangerous.
There’s nothing for me to do here. Why not have a fling? It will be fun.
It will be dangerous.
I thought about how scared I’d been the night before. What the hell was I doing watching true crime where someone is stalked and captured? I was living a true crime scenario; I didn’t need to be watching it.
I shivered when I remembered someone had actually been outside. Had they tried to get in? What would have happened if they had succeeded? Maybe I needed to stop thinking so much about sex and focus on staying alive.
Keeping me safe was Dominic’s job, though, and I’d assumed there were other men watching the house. Why hadn’t they seen anyone moving around?
My stomach growled, and I pushed back the covers. After moving through a series of stretches, I showered quickly and got dressed. Beatrice was in the kitchen, but there was no sign of Dominic.
“Is Mr. Marchesi in his office?” I had him pegged as a morning person. Or a not-sleep-at-all person. It was easy to imagine him grumpy and awake at all times, ready to snarl at anyone or anything that disrupted him.
“No, he probably won’t be around until the afternoon.”
“Did he go out?” My heart accelerated, and I realized I was terrified to be there without him. I guess I really did trust him to keep me safe.
“No, he had trouble sleeping, and he told me not to send him any breakfast.”
“Oh okay.” I’d called that right. “Do his injuries keep him from sleeping?”
Beatrice pressed her lips together like she was trying to prevent herself from revealing too much. “Mr. Marchesi wouldn’t like me to talk about his health.”
“Does he talk to anyone about whatever happened?”
This time, she studied me for a moment before responding. “That’s not my business to talk about either.”
“What can you tell me about him? Does he ever smile? Laugh?”
She shook her head. “Very rarely. Only around his sons or some of the rest of the family.”
“He has sons?”
“Yes, I suppose I can tell you that. I’m sure you’ll meet them and their partners eventually if you’re here with us for a while.”
“Whatever you tell me stays between us. I don’t have anyone else to talk to here, and I’m not allowed to communicate with anyone outside this house.”
“He has two sons, Valentino, who is married to an amazing man, and Vito, who is dating a hockey player. They’ve only been a part of his life for the last ten years, I believe.”
His sons were gay? That was interesting. “How old are they?”
“Late twenties, early thirties—in that range.”
So I was the same age or possibly younger than his sons. That should bother me more than it did. “I don’t suppose you’re going tell me why they weren’t part of his life as kids?”
“Their mother wasn’t Mr. Marchesi’s wife.”
“Oooh. That would do it.” I was intrigued and it lent itself to my theory that there was a hell of a lot of passion he’d walled up inside himself.
“Anything else interesting that you’re able to talk about?”
She tilted her head as she thought for a moment. “Why don’t you tell me what you know about Mr. Marchesi, and I’ll see what else I might be able to tell you.”
“I know almost nothing about what’s going on. I know that the man who was protecting me in New York—for unknown reasons, a man I’ve never met—sent me here because he trusted Mr. Marchesi to protect me.”
“I’m not supposed to gossip about the family, and I don’t know any specifics about your situation.”
“I’ll take anything I can get. Surely you hear things and see things. I can easily imagine he doesn’t spill his secrets.”
She laughed. “That’s true enough. His sons tell me more than he does, but you know, in a family like theirs, it’s dangerous to spill secrets.”
“A family like theirs? A family where the father is a former assassin?”
She started to say something else but stopped and nodded.
I narrowed my eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”
She glanced toward the stairs, pausing for a moment before saying, “I suppose you have a right to know. Lord knows what might go on here if you’re with us for a while.”
“Dominic told me he’d been an assassin, but he said that wasn’t his job now.”
“It’s not, but he still works for the family.”
“Do they have a family business?”
“Yes.” Her answer was hesitant.
What would their business be? They were clearly Italian, so— I froze. “Oh, no. I’ve not been sent to stay with the?—”
Beatrice smiled. “Their family business is not exactly what you’d consider…typical.”
“Or legal?”
She shrugged.
“They’re—” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “ Mobsters ?”
Again, she didn’t respond directly. “They have unique ways of making money.”
This was not good. Why was the FBI letting criminals protect me? Could I really trust X? What the hell was happening?
Beatrice laid a hand on my arm. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Mr. Marchesi and the rest of the family will protect you. You don’t have to worry about that. You are safe here. Safer than you’d probably be anywhere. I really shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, I’m glad you did, but I just…I chose to go into contract law instead of trial law because the stakes were lower, and now….”
“And now you’re here.”
“I had no idea. I just wanted to pass some information on to the senior partners. I would never have walked into the office if I’d known.”
“But now you’re in a position to help, to protect the people they were going to hurt.”
“If you’re concerned about protecting people, why do you work here?” Why did I ask that? If I offended her I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to.
“This family is complicated, but they have a moral code. It may not be the same as yours. It may not be the same as most people’s, but the people they go after—the ones they hunt—they’re the bad guys. The really bad guys. The Marchesis don’t involve themselves in things that hurt innocent people—certainly not children.”
“And the man who arranged for me to come here, do you know anything about him?”
She shook her head. “Nothing except that he is a good man. He’s certainly done things not everyone would agree with, but they were in service to good. Please don’t worry. You are safe here, and you’re not contributing to anything that would hurt someone. You’re putting a stop to it.”
“What exactly are the Marchesis involved in?”
“I don’t know the extent of it, but I know that nothing Mr. Marchesi has ever done is as evil as what his ex-wife did to him.”
“Were you here when they were married?”
She shook her head. “No, he didn’t live in this house then. He bought it once he could leave the hospital.”
“And you’ve been with him since then?”
She nodded. “I have.”
“Are you related to the family?”
“Distantly, but I’m not part of the main line.”
Things were getting crazier every moment. “I keep thinking maybe I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream.”
“I’m sorry you’re in this position, but you’ll get through it, and then you’ll go back to your life in New York, and everything will be okay.”
Would it? And how much of a life did I really have? Apparently, it hadn’t been what I thought it was, and now I’d need a new job and maybe a new place to live. I wasn’t sure I could go back to the old place. I wasn’t sure I could go back to any of my old life. As far as the few friends I still saw semi-regularly knew, I’d just up and disappeared.
How long would I be here, and how would this all come to a head? Would the trial be televised? Would my friends see me? What would they think?
“I feel like I’m going to be a different person, to see the whole world differently.”
She laughed. “Meeting the Marchesis can do that to you.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“Just that they are… Their personalities are all very big.”
I considered this. “Dominic seems to keep his personality very quiet.”
“He’s in pain. And I don’t mean from his injuries. Give him grace.”
“Do you want to elaborate on that? Or on what happened with his wife?”
Beatrice sighed. “She betrayed him and left him for dead. That’s all I can say for now.”
“Shit. I guess that would turn you cold.”
She nodded. “I didn’t know him before, but from what I understand, he’s always been a serious, focused man. He’s never been talkative or jovial, but his decision to be a recluse came after the accident.”
“How long has it been?”
“Almost ten years.”
“God, how awful.” Closed up here for ten years, hardly leaving, hardly smiling. Could I help him? Could I pull him back out into the world?
“His sons have been working most of that time to change him. They’ve only just begun to break through some of the barriers. Don’t put pressure on yourself. Just show him respect and do what he asks.”
“Okay. Thank you,” I said.
She left the kitchen to continue with her other duties. Once I finished my breakfast, I went to the sunroom. I wanted to peruse the other books there and see if they gave me any more clues about the man who had my life in his hands.