34. Georgia
34
GEORGIA
W hen I woke, the world was swaying. It made sense, really, considering what had happened last night. The world today wasn’t the same one as yesterday. It was forever changed.
I sat up. Sunlight flooded onto the bed from the high windows along the top of the walls.
Right, suddenly the bobbing made sense. I was on Elio’s yacht.
A knock at the door sent me yanking the sheet up to my chin. The door opened, and Toni stood in the entrance.
“Good morning, Mrs. Santori. I’ve got some clothes here for you. If you get dressed, I’ll drive you home.”
“Where’s Elio?” I wondered.
Toni’s face didn’t give anything away. “Working. It’s past lunchtime.”
“What?” I had no way to tell the damn time, and there wasn’t a clock in the room. “You could have woken me earlier! I hope you weren’t waiting for me to wake up.”
“There’re worse places to be on the clock than sitting on the deck of a yacht,” Toni said primly.
I was starting to think she had quite the wicked sense of humor beneath her deadpan delivery.
“Anyway, it was the boss’ orders not to wake you. He told me you were hurt last night.”
“I’m okay. Everyone needs to stop worrying about me. It wasn’t my blood.” I wrapped the sheet around me and hung my legs over the end of the bed. “What about Elio’s other security? Were you working last night?”
“No, I was off, since the boss was with you. Everyone is accounted for. You don’t take down the Santori squad easily.” Toni gave me a rare smile.
I nodded, relieved. The thought that Elio’s closest people could have been hurt protecting me didn’t sit well at all.
“I’ll get dressed and come out,” I told Toni, getting up and heading to the bag she’d brought me. When I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I nearly screamed. My hair was dried in damp snakes over my shoulders, my face was wild and black-rimmed with old makeup, and my lips were swollen like I’d been stung by bees. Worst of all was the stubble rash across my cheeks, and the bites down my neck. Elio hadn’t been gentle last night… not by a long shot, and I had loved it.
I’d burned in his brutal hands.
I shoved my hair up in a bun, got dressed, and headed out to Toni.
Later, after being escorted home with more security than a president, I took a long shower and spent way too much time remembering every single touch of Elio’s hands on my body. I dressed in some of my new clothes and went to my studio. Just opening the door still gave me a thrill every single time.
I was deep in pinning a tricky area of a design, when Toni appeared with a phone in her hand.
She passed it to me.
“Hello?” I asked cautiously.
Elio’s deep, clipped voice spread across me like honey.
“Your father’s lawyer is on the line. He insists on speaking to you personally. We need to know what your father’s plan is.”
Nice to talk to you, too.
“Okay.”
“Get as much information as you can, Georgia,” Elio prompted.
I sighed. “Yes, boss, anything else you want to tell me to do?”
“Yes,” he replied, his voice deepening somehow, spreading fire through my body. “Rest up, you’re going to need your energy later.”
Before I could respond to that implication, the call switched, and my father’s attorney was on the line.
“Mrs. Conti?”
“It’s Mrs. Santori now,” Elio interrupted, still on the call. There was an arrogant possessiveness in his tone that couldn’t be denied.
“Of course, Mrs. Santori. Can you speak? I really need to speak to her alone.”
“It’s fine. My husband can listen… I give permission.”
“It’s not about what you want, Mrs. Santori; I represent your father’s wishes.”
“I’ll go. I’m sure my wife will catch me up on the conversation shortly,” Elio said smoothly and then seemed to disappear.
I pressed the phone to my ear. “What is it?”
“I am calling to tell you that your father has received the message sent by Renato De Sanctis. I delivered it personally. As a result, he will begin his deal with the prosecution, but the De Sanctis family will not feature in any of the bargaining.”
I nodded mutely. So, Renato and Elio’s plan had worked after all. At least I was an effective bargaining chip in this hostage situation, that was something.
“He is concerned about your welfare. He would like to be reassured that you are well.”
“I’m fine.”
“If you’re not, just say the word and I can have charges brought against your new husband?—”
“I said I’m fine where I am. I’m safe. I’m so much safer here than I would be alone. My father still has delusions of grandeur, I see, to think he could do anything about the De Sanctis family or my husband. He can’t. I have to live with the consequences of his actions… and the fallout of whatever dirty, illegal shit he was involved in my whole life. I will be making my own decisions from now on. I don’t need or want his help.”
The lawyer was quiet for a beat. “Understood,” he said heavily. “If it means anything, I don’t believe he anticipated any of this as a reaction to his arrest. He didn’t think you?—”
“He didn’t think of me at all. I know. But he should know this… if anyone else had been head of the De Sanctis family, and if my husband had been anyone else at all, I’d probably be six feet under already. They are keeping me alive. Not my father.”
I broke off, surprised by my own venom. No, when I really thought of it, I was furious. Livid. My father had lived a disreputable life, and in the end, to spare himself, he’d put me in danger. He was selfish, and he’d always been selfish. Ever since that day when he’d told me Elio had left, something had fractured between us. I’d never quite believed him. Not fully. It was a tear, one that had ripped the fabric of our relationship more and more every day since.
“I will communicate that to my client,” the lawyer told me. “I will be in touch once there are further developments.”
“Great. Looking forward to it,” I snapped and hung up.
I handed the phone to Toni.
“Everything okay?”
“Not even remotely.” I sighed and sank into the chair at my desk. I was sick of all of it. My father, trying to manipulate me even from prison, and now, trying to pretend he cared about me when I’d already been through hell because of him. I’d be dead because of him right now, if not for Elio.
I was done trying to pick sides.
I knew where I belonged.