Chapter 20
20
LUCA
I hated leaving her behind. There was something about the combination of spirit and submission that she offered. Even though the weather was clear, it felt as if I were leaving behind sunshine and stepping into the rain.
And of course, I didn’t trust her not to get herself in trouble. If it wouldn’t have broken what trust there was between the two of us, I might have stashed her back in the mausoleum for her own good.
I walked back through the kitchen, where our plates had already been cleared. I glanced at the sink and didn’t see her mug. Interesting . Following a hunch, I walked into the garage.
Dante was in his workshop. Her mug sat on top of the workbench.
His head was down, his back to me. I picked up the mug. Celia hadn’t been wearing lipstick to leave her mark on it. He would have liked that. “Did you suck on the tines of her fork too?”
“Don’t be crude,” Dante replied.
“I should tell you the same thing. I didn’t realize how fucking obsessed you were with her until that shit in the garden. You could ruin this whole thing. Sometimes I think you want to ruin it."
“She doesn’t deserve any of this.”
“We didn’t deserve what happened to us, either.” I could not stand this idealistic bullshit from a man who knew firsthand how nasty the world could be. “Sometimes I can see why Gabriel shot you in the face.”
Dante set his project down patiently and turned to face me.
He didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at me said it all. Now, he looked at me like he fucking pitied me.
“We really don’t deserve what’s going to happen to us if Celia’s father catches on before our plan is rolling along too quickly for us to be crushed underneath it.”
He still didn’t say anything.
I gave up and let out an exasperated scoff. “Just stay away from her, all right?”
He nodded, once.
The air was heavy with all the things that he wasn’t saying. I added, “You can kick my ass later. We’ll go a few rounds in the ring?”
The weird bastard still didn’t say anything out loud, but he smiled.
I left him alone and went to the car.
The last thing I wanted was to go to Celia’s old house, but that was what our plan required. I had seen guys still casing it for her father. And unlike Dante, who I trusted less and less when it came to Celia, I would follow the fucking plan.
I liked the girl too. I liked being alive too.
When I arrived back at the mansion, Royal and his father were in the dining room, planning their retaliatory attack on the Dempsey family.
They glanced up at me, but didn’t acknowledge me. I nodded respectfully and moved to stand beside the door, waiting for them to want to talk to me. For now, they were deep in discussions with some of their henchmen.
And with some of mine.
“We haven’t found any evidence that their family is holding Celia. But we can’t rule it out, either,” one of the henchmen said.
“And where is their daughter? Moriah?”
“We haven’t had any luck finding the location yet. They’ve got her under lock and key, according to the rumors.”
“Are there any rumors about how her father plans to deal with her?” Mal’s gaze was sharp.
“He’s not gonna kill her. He’s always been wrapped around her little finger,” Royal sounded sulky. “She’s a spoiled, stupid little brat.”
One who had rejected him many times, hence earning those adjectives. But it didn’t stop him from lighting up every time she was around.
“We haven’t heard anything conclusive,” henchman number one said. “Rumors are that he’s seeking alliances to marry her off. Make her some other man’s problem, secure his loyalty, and get her out of this house before anyone hears the rumors about what she’s done.”
We had an inside man in the Dempsey family’s house. And by that I meant, I had an inside man in the Dempsey family’s house, although Celia’s father and Royal thought that they were the ones who had him. But everything that they were being fed was what I wanted them to hear.
I wanted Celia’s father thinking about marriage, not murder.
“And you.” Mal was staring at me now. “You failed to keep my daughter safe. And now you’ve failed to bring her back to me.”
“I will bring her home,” I promised.
“If she’s alive,” one of the other henchmen muttered.
“She’s too stupid to survive on her own,” Royal grumbled.
God, I could not wait to murder him…or maybe I should let Celia do it. She was great with a shovel. I wouldn’t have guessed from looking at her, but she’d been pretty fierce when she hit me.
Would she be willing to kill Royal for how he’d treated her?
I would love to find out.
“Maybe she is dead somewhere,” Mal mused. “That would be better for her than if she’s embarrassed me by running off.”
He glanced up and around the room at everyone assembled, his gaze sharp. “That possibility does not leave this room. I’ll kill anyone who besmirches her reputation. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” I muttered, along with the chorus of yes, sirs . But I felt a surge of victory. If he was thinking about her reputation, then he had no immediate plans to kill her.
Royal wasn’t reading the room. “Do you think Gabriel’s stupid enough to still marry her? It seems like a punishment to be tied to her fat?—”
Mal gave him a weary look, and Royal—who was mean, but not entirely stupid—subsided.
Celia was perfect. I remembered the curve of her ass under my hand, the way it had felt to skim my fingers across her smooth skin. Desire for her would swallow me if I let it.
I moved on from fantasizing about introducing Royal to a shovel to introducing him to a chainsaw.
“Marrying Gabriel would be more of a punishment for Celia,” Mal declared.
Outside the mansion windows, I saw a sleek black McLaren pulling into the driveway.
Gabriel would be driving himself. He always did. He was too much of a control freak to let anyone else drive.
As he entered the room, his suit was impeccably tailored to his tall, muscular frame. His dark sunglasses hid his eyes, but I knew they were equally cold and unfeeling.
Gabriel did not acknowledge me, of course. He passed me without comment.
Would Celia’s father be cruel enough to marry her to a man who despised her, just because it would be useful?
I’d bet quite a bit that he would.
CELIA
With Luca gone, maybe I could finally think straight. I found clothes waiting on the bed in the big, lavish bedroom, and I dressed in the soft leggings and familiar band t-shirt that had been left for me. It was strange that Luca had brought me clothes.
Was Moriah okay? That thought pounded at my mind as I walked around the room trying to clear my mind so I could find a way out…if there was one. I tried the door, but when I tapped on it, there was a dense ring of a solid steel core. The hinges were on the other side, and I’d guess they were reinforced so I couldn’t kick it down…as if.
My father hadn’t exactly signed me up for kickboxing classes. Female empowerment was not a priority for him.
I went to the windows and began trying to find a way to open them. Apparently, Luca wasn’t worried about fire safety. The windows were nailed shut and had alarms on each sash, so if I raised the window, the alarm would go off. I tapped my fingernails on the glass. I was willing to bet it wouldn’t shatter easily.
Luca was not stupid.
It was so inconvenient.
And I needed to know how long he’d been plotting my kidnapping. I turned back to face the room, which seemed like it had been designed for me, quite thoughtfully. When had he stolen my clothes? Had he orchestrated the conflict between my family and Moriah’s?
I couldn’t even explain what he did to me. But I couldn’t trust him, and I wasn’t going to let my body betray me.
I hadn’t had sex since my father murdered my high school sweetheart, the one and only man I’d ever fucked—or kissed, for that matter. I had years of pent-up feelings, and Luca was a ridiculously handsome, well-built man with a dangerous amount of charisma. It was only natural that I responded when he was touching me in the bath, for god’s sake. That didn’t mean I was going to turn stupid.
And even if I had sex with Luca…because that might be one way to distract him so I could escape…that didn’t mean I was going to lose my mind and trust him.
Worst of all, he’d dropped that bomb right before he left about my plotting. Had he just guessed? Was he just trying to fuck with my head? Or did he know something that could endanger the lives of my girls? I paced the room, my heart beating fast even though I was alone.
I felt someone on the other side of the door. Maybe there was some sound that only my subconscious picked up, but it seemed like it was a presence I felt in my body. I moved toward the door, my feet almost silent on the thick, soft rug.
I couldn’t hear them. But I was willing to bet there was someone just on the other side of that door, as close to it as I was now. I laid my fingers on the door, debating what I should do next.
“Hello?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
The only answer was a soft intake of breath. That was enough.
“I know there’s someone there. Dante?”
There was the faintest soft sound on the other side of the door, as if he’d laid his hand against the wood.
“Will you talk to me?” An unexpected quaver entered my voice, but I didn’t try to hide it. “I’m scared.”
It was true, though it was a truth I wouldn’t have confessed without a reason.
“Or maybe you can’t,” I admitted after a long silence. “Are you trapped here too somehow?”
It was hard to reconcile the man who had helped me through my panic attack as being besties with my kidnapper.
But people are complicated. People probably didn’t look at me and think, there’s a girl who can’t wait to commit patricide .
“Are you the one who came into the mausoleum with me?” There was no hiding my gratitude in my voice, and I didn’t want to. I needed allies, and if this man on the other side of the door was Dante, if he had been with me in the dark…then he was already my ally.
I just needed to figure out how to turn him into such a strong ally that he would choose me over Luca.
“Thank you. Seriously, thank you so much for not leaving me alone in there.” I ran my hand over the door, resting my forehead lightly against the cool wood. God, I wanted to be on the other side of that door, to be free.
“It’s driving me mad being stuck in here. Mostly because I’m afraid for my friends. Luca implied they might be in trouble. And the last I saw my friend at the club, she was in danger, and she’s been one of the best friends I could imagine—” I stumbled because the rivalry and cattiness between Moriah and me were legendary. No one knew about our secret friendship. Men talked in the most disparaging way about how cruel girls were to each other, and we’d taken that as an advantage.
“I guess I shouldn’t run my mouth to a door,” I said with a broken gasp of a laugh. I didn’t have to fake my emotional state, that was for sure, even though I could be emotional and plan. “Just…do you know what Luca plans to do with me? Am I safe?”
There was no answer, but I hadn’t really expected one.
I felt the presence pull away, though. I could just barely hear someone moving away down the stairs. I bit my lip, letting my head rest against the door as yet another hope slipped away from me.
The way he walked away felt like an answer to my question.
No .
I had to get away. I had to warn Moriah, Kara, and Natalie so they weren’t caught unaware.
I ran my finger around the neck of my favorite band t-shirt, the one Luca must have stolen for me. Was it a coincidence that it was one I wore so often to bed? I glanced around the room, realizing I needed to search it for cameras and bugs. Hopefully I hadn’t put the person I was just talking to into danger by reaching out to them.
My t-shirt wasn’t going to cut it for tonight, though.
I was going to seduce Luca, and I was going to get my hands on his gun.
My thoughts might get all wrapped up in his touch, in the warm solidity of his body, but he obviously was all wrapped up in me, too. If I played things right, I could get myself out of here, in a car, and through the gates.
After that, I’d get in touch with my girls, and we would make a new plan.
Still, when I thought about trying to seduce Luca, my heart pounded desperately, my body flushing with adrenaline, with fear and with longing.