2. Unwelcome Guest pt I
two
Unwelcome Guest pt I
“So, how’s work?” Brandi’s father asked after they’d settled at the dinner table.
Brandi refrained from rolling her eyes and reached for the half glass of cheap wine she was allowing herself. Her father liked to keep up pretenses, but since it was only her, he couldn’t be bothered to break out the expensive stuff. She hardly cared. She took a slow sip, swirling the too tart red liquid across her tongue before swallowing it down and lowering her glass back to the table. “Work is fine,” she said, as if it were an ordinary conversation. “It’s busy and it challenges me.” She lifted her fork as if she were actually interested in the meal.
On the opposite side of the oversized square table, Wesley Richardson made an exasperated sound. “Brandi.”
She stabbed some vegetables onto her fork and dutifully lifted her gaze. “Yes?” She popped the bite into her mouth, feigning obliviousness. Of course he knew she was faking. She was past the point of caring.
Her stalker had followed her to her father’s, sticking a little closer than usual. She didn’t know if that was to make sure she was going to show up or simply to avoid losing sight of her in the late afternoon traffic. Regardless, it was infuriating. She was twenty-six-years-old, living independently, earning her own money, paying her own bills, and still her father wanted to control her life. She knew it was because he wanted to use her. He always wanted to use her.
He’d been using her, in some way, since she was six.
Wesley drummed his fingers on the table. “Don’t pretend you like that job,” he said. “Tell me what I need to know.”
Brandi narrowed her eyes at him and set down her fork. “As a matter of fact, I do like my job.” She squared her shoulders. “As for what you want to hear, don’t be ridiculous. You owned a technologies business for more than thirty years. You should perfectly well understand that I cannot tell you a single thing.” She let a shadow of a smirk lift her lips. “Well, I suppose I could mention how ironic I find it that a man you consider your enemy pays me better than you did when you forced me to work for you.”
Wesley slammed his fist onto the table, nearly knocking over his own wine glass. “Who cares about NDAs? Those monsters don’t care about the law!” He stretched his arm out, pointing aggressively. “I didn’t send you to the De Salvos so you could make them more money! I sent you so you could see from the inside what kind of shit they get up to, and how to ruin them!”
Brandi pushed the tines of her fork into a potato, schooling her expression into a calm fa?ade. “I believe that’s called corporate espionage,” she said, “and I never agreed to it.” She brought the potato to her mouth as her father’s predictable temper took hold.
“The hell you didn’t! You took the job, didn’t you?” He grabbed up his wine and tossed it back, nearly emptying the glass before slamming it down again. “Don’t be so ungrateful, after all I’ve done for you—”
Brandi let her fork clatter against her plate. “All you’ve done for me?” She leveled her own glare on the outrageous man across from her. “How far back, exactly, would you like me to go before I start listing my blessings ?” She pushed to her feet. “There’s a reason Mom left you and we both know it wasn’t that you worked too many hours.”
Wesley knocked his chair back as he shoved to his feet. “This is hardly the time for that argument, you ungrateful brat.”
This time she did roll her eyes. “Yes, I’m so ungrateful. I’m ungrateful for all the summers I had to spend cooped up in long sleeves and pants because of you. I’m ungrateful for all the friends I never made because of you. I’m definitely ungrateful for the way you dragged me back and forced me to work for you at barely more than minimum wage the moment I graduated college. That’s certainly a life I should be thanking you for.”
Wesley stalked around the table and Brandi took a step back. “I never claimed to be a perfect father—”
“The only honest thing you’ve ever said about yourself.”
“But you’ve hardly been a perfect daughter, you disloyal little slut.”
She reared back. If she were still in reach of her wine, she’d have thrown it at him. “Excuse me?”
“You’re sleeping with your boss, aren’t you? I should have put you in the other one’s company. At least that brother’s married.”
Fresh rage burned in her chest and Brandi curled her hands into fists at her sides. “Forgive me, would you prefer I was sleeping with the stalker you’ve had tailing me recently? Or should I change career paths altogether and find my way to a nunnery?” She gave him her best scathing glare. “I’m a grown woman. Who I choose to sleep with, or don’t, is my business.” She pivoted on her heel and started for the hallway. “Call off your watchdog or I’ll escort him to the police station on my next lunch break.”
“Getting into bed with the De Salvos will only ruin what’s left of your future,” her father called after her.
“Go to hell.” If anyone was going to ruin her future, it was the man who’d ruined her childhood.
Her father traipsed behind her. “What was that nonsense about a stalker? Are the De Salvos already suspicious of you?”
Brandi whirled on him. “Don’t go out of your way to be an ass!” She shoved a pointer finger in his chest. “The De Salvos were suspicious of me the second my application hit their inbox thanks to you and your horrible behavior. I’ve been clawing my way up from that judgment every day since.” She pushed harder. “ You’re the one who hired the stalker and I’m sick of it, do you hear me? Call him off.”
Wesley smacked her hand away, her skin stinging with the sharp moment of impact. “I was only fighting for my own rights. Those criminals are the ones misbehaving. Why in the hell would I pay someone to stalk you when I could just trace your phone or call you home? I always know where you are, Brandi. I wouldn’t waste money like that.”
The breath rushed from her. She hadn’t considered that perspective.
He wouldn’t spend money on that. He’d been controlling her for her entire life. The fact that she had shown up to this unplanned dinner, or had done anything at all other than run straight to the police after he’d threatened her into applying for the available position at DS Security Solutions, was proof enough that he still had his claws in her. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen that.
Brandi backstepped away from her father, fear slithering through her.
“Now pull yourself together and come back to the table, Brandi,” Wesley said as if they’d merely had a small disagreement.
Her head spun and she knew it had nothing to do with the single sip of wine she’d consumed. “I’m not hungry. I’m going to go home and turn in early.” It was only half a lie. She didn’t know how she’d sleep, not until she at least narrowed down the possibilities of who might really be following her. Could it still be someone in some way connected to her father? Or was her stalker entirely separate from him?
Brandi ignored her father’s displeased tone as she finally lifted her purse from the table in the foyer and stepped out the door. It was nothing unusual for him to be upset with her. He’d find a way to punish her soon enough and she would figure out either how to overcome it or cope with it, as she always did. Currently she was much more worried about the wildcard she had so outrageously misjudged.
She caught sight of the SUV before she was out of the neighborhood. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Maybe it’s some random guy and he’ll lose interest soon. That happened, right?
She told herself that wasn’t impossible as she made her way back toward the heart of the city. She purposely took all the same roads, not wanting to reveal any of her other familiar detours to this stalker on the off-chance she knew the area better than they did. It crossed her mind to go to the police station instead, but what would she really say? So she’d seen the same SUV in her rearview mirror lately. She’d never seen a glimpse of the person, her home never appeared to be violated, there was no other sign of personal or psychological trespass. More than likely a cop would tell her there was no proof and so nothing they could do other than to recommend her to ‘be cautious.’
No shit. Every female past puberty learned, to some degree, that she needed to be cautious in certain kinds of situations.
Brandi pushed out a breath as the SUV continued past her driveway, as it so often did. She didn’t trust that, of course. Her usual hurried routine felt more chaotic as she dashed from the car to the condo, quickly locking herself inside and resecuring the alarm system. Then, for the first time, she flicked on all the main lights and went through every room. She took stock of everything she could think to take stock of, but it all looked fine. Nothing seemed changed from when she’d left forty minutes earlier.
Finally, Brandi dropped onto her sofa with a heavy sigh. Maybe she would turn in early. Maybe she was paranoid. Maybe I’ll take a good, long soak first.
“This is going to put extra responsibility on both of you for a little while,” Dante said when he was finished explaining why he’d summoned them to his home that evening. “But you’re the only ones I trust to do the job.”
Mikey’s gaze flicked toward their middle brother, Romeo, gauging his response. Romeo was more recently married and had equally recently discovered his wife was also expecting—to no one’s great surprise. Still, Mikey figured that might change the response he’d have once assumed his brother to have.
Romeo’s face split in a genuine smile. “Brother, you don’t need to ask. It’s literally my job to step in when you need the help, anyway.”
Guess I overthought it. Mikey inclined his head. “Anything you need, just say the word.”
Dante inclined his head. “I want to keep word of my taking leave as quiet as possible. Publicly, I’ll be out of office for most of July and roughly half of August.” He nodded to Romeo. “I’ll arrange the necessary exceptions with you and Grace before-hand. You can handle anything else that comes up as far as DSI is concerned.”
“Of course,” Romeo said. “But I expect equal consideration when it’s my turn. No complaining about that leaving you twice as short-handed for a month.”
Mikey rolled his eyes. “You spend maybe half a day at your office usually, anyway. Grace’s maternity leave is the one that will hurt.”
“We’ll make it work,” Dante said.
Romeo turned a smirk on Mikey. “I can’t wait until it’s your turn so I can throw all this shit back at you.”
Mikey waved off his brother’s comment, leaning back against the leather sofa in Dante’s home office. “Not interested. I’m busy enough without trying to raise kids. I don’t mind playing uncle, but I don’t need any of my own.”
“You say that now.”
Mikey ignored his brother’s stupid comeback and shifted his focus again to Dante. “You want me to secure temporary management for the flower shop, too?”
Dante drummed his fingers over the armrest of his chair. “Megan’s going to handle the bulk of it, but one or two extra staff couldn’t hurt. Iris insists she still wants to oversee at least the online side of the business, but if that becomes too much for her, we’ll need a plan in place to pick that up until her energy returns.”
Mikey nodded. “No problem. I’ll find a few options, draft up a fallback, and have it ready to run by you in a couple days.”
“You settled on a name yet?” Romeo asked even as Dante nodded.
Mikey snapped his gaze immediately back to Dante. Sooner or later they’d all know, of course, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t curious about his soon-to-be nephew’s name.
A proud smile settled on Dante’s lips. “Vittorio.”
Romeo chuckled and Mikey felt himself grin.
Dante’s phone buzzed and he immediately snatched it up. “What do you need?”
The greeting told Mikey it wasn’t a work call, but he still watched his brother’s face for signs that anything might be wrong. What he saw instead was a newly familiar crinkling of warmth at the corners of Dante’s eyes and a subtle upward twitch of his lips that lacked any mocking cruelty he reserved for his victims.
“Of course, honey. We’re just finishing up. Give me five minutes, I’ll bring it to you.”
Mikey straightened even as Romeo reached over and swatted his shoulder.
Dante lowered the phone. “Unless either of you had urgent business of your own, that’s all I needed tonight.”
“We’re good,” Romeo said, standing. “I’ve got a pregnant wife of my own to get home to, anyway. Give Iris my best.”
Mikey pushed to his feet and shouldered his tablet bag. “I’ll email you that plan as soon as it’s ready. In the meantime, just reach out if you need anything.”
Dante nodded, only standing after both of them were on their feet, and tucked his phone away. He bid them goodnight but walked with them only as far as the split in the hall.
Mikey and Romeo let themselves out, parting in the garage as Romeo ducked into his waiting SUV. Mikey nodded politely when his gaze met with Romeo’s longtime driver, Mo, before angling into his own vehicle. He’d long ago forgone replacing the driver and bodyguard who’d been assigned to him as an early teen. That was a strong bond, to be sure—Romeo and Mo were proof enough of the claim—but it was hard to deal with the loss when the guard did his job.
Some days, Mikey still felt sick over that memory. So, he preferred not to have an assigned person. It was just easier.
He followed Mo down the drive, but turned the opposite direction at the end of the street. Romeo was going home. Mikey was not. It wasn’t super late. He’d put in a few more hours before he made his way to his oversized, empty home.
Brandi woke in the early hours of the morning with a start, her heart racing wildly. For a split-second she was disoriented, recognizing her bedroom and yet feeling certain that something was wrong. Questions half-formed in her mind before coming to a screeching halt when the source of the wrongness moved into her line-of-sight.
He was tall, over six foot for sure, with a hat covering his head and crooked nose beneath his brown eyes. His entire face barely registered in her mind as his hulking size loomed over her, leather coat bulging against broad shoulders and muscles even the dim lighting in the room failed to hide. The only portion of his skin she could see was his face, the rest of him covered in black fabric of some type. He was scowling and scary as hell.
Terror like Brandi had never known shot through her and she threw herself backward until she was pressed against the headboard, comforter twisted in her hands. Why in the hell did she not have a weapon? Would it matter if she’d ever bought a gun or can of mace to keep in the nightstand? “Wh-who the hell are you?” She hated that she stammered. She hated that her fear showed. She hated that she felt as vulnerable and utterly fucked as she undoubtedly was.
The intruder grinned wide enough for his teeth to peek through and he stepped closer, not breaking eye-contact as he adjusted to sit on the side of her bed. He was within arm’s reach, his massive hand resting on the comforter that covered her practically bare lower half from view. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that just yet, sweet Brandi.”
Bile climbed up the back of her throat at his choice of address, and at the spark of hunger she recognized in his eyes. She wanted to scream, to hope that her neighbors weren’t such sound sleepers that they wouldn’t hear, but she was absolutely certain she wouldn’t have the chance to make that much noise. He was too close. And quite frankly, she didn’t want to give him reason to put his hands on her. So she dug past her revulsion and her fear and latched on to the anger. “If you’re here to hurt me, then—”
“No, no,” he said immediately, even shaking his head. The motion drew her gaze briefly to a tear-like gap in his closest earlobe. “I’m here to have a conversation.”
She blinked, incredulity creeping in to join the mix of unagreeable emotions churning inside her.
He didn’t make her ask. “I’m aware you’ve … noticed me,” he said, holding her stare. “So I thought it was time to move on to the next phase.”
Dread washed through her, drowning out the anger and the incredulity and even most of the disgust. Oh crap. This was her stalker. Of course this was her stalker. Who else would be breaking into her condo at the ass-crack of dawn?
He moved a hand to her leg, latching a firm grip onto her calf through the comforter. “What matters isn’t who I am, it’s who I work for. And the people I work for have been waiting quite some time for the money your father owes them.”
Brandi sucked in a breath. “Are you serious right now?”
His grip tightened. “I’m very serious, sweet Brandi. I don’t want to have to hurt you, but not collecting that money is not an option. Understand?”
The anger surged back in full force, taking control of her body and her common sense. Brandi swung out, her fist making contact with her apparently unsuspecting intruder’s jaw. The angle was crap, but it startled him enough to rear back and therefore release her leg. She jerked away from his grasp and shouted, “Get the fuck out!”
“You little—”
He grabbed for her and Brandi twisted away, rolling off the far side of the bed. She was only wearing a shirt and panties, but fuck it, she wasn’t going to let that hold her captive. “I said get out!” Her phone was on the other side of the bed, of course. If she’d had a weapon, she’d have put it on that side, too, so she supposed not having one was just as well.
Her nameless stalker-turned-intruder rose to his full height and stalked around the foot of the bed, recognizing of course that there was only one way out of the room. Past him. “Don’t make me get rough now.”
Brandi launched back onto the bed, aiming to scramble across faster than she’d ever moved before. She wouldn’t even stop for her phone. Her keys were in her purse, which was in the living room. If she could reach that, she’d just run.
He was faster than he had any right to be for his size. He swung the side of his fist into her ribs in a clear warning.
The hit was still hard enough to knock the breath from her and drop her sloppily to her knees. Brandi gasped, one arm coming around her torso as not-old-enough memories collided together, threatening to override her awareness.
A hand twisted in her hair and hauled her back, forcing her head up. “Now, if you’ve gotten that out of your system, listen real close.”
She couldn’t breathe well enough to snap at him, so she settled for a glare.
He didn’t acknowledge the defiance in her eyes. “My boss ain’t interested in a loan from some third party. Your old man needs to pay up, in full, or this gets worse. But I’m not unreasonable. I need to be able to tell my employer I have the cash on hand in ten days.” He dropped to a knee and leaned close, whispering in her ear as if imparting a delicate secret. “But I’ll be back to see you every other night in between, sweet Brandi. You’re welcome to offer me cash payments toward that larger installment at every visit, or not, just as long as it’s your daddy’s money.” His lips brushed the shell of her ear and the bile bubbled up her throat again. “Either way, I’ll be here, keeping you company.”
Fuck. She could breathe again, but the fight had frozen in her veins.
He released her hair and stood up without stepping back. “I don’t recommend involving the police. Our visits will become a lot less pleasant if you do that.” He patted her head as if she were a child, then suddenly his hand dropped to her neck and darkness washed over her.
When Brandi opened her eyes again, her phone’s alarm blaring in her ears, her entire body was stiff and a distinct chill had settled over her. She sucked in a sharp breath, realizing she’d been knocked out, and shoved upright—only to find herself still on the floor beside her bed. She was still wearing her nightshirt and her underwear, but that did very little to stave off the sense of violation that was already choking her.
“I’ll be back to see you.”
Tears rushed to her eyes even as her stomach heaved, and it was all Brandi could do to dash to her bathroom in time. She sank to her knees when the dry heaves subsided, her throat still swollen from the sobs that had risen alongside. What the fuck had her father gotten mixed up in this time?
How the hell was she going to get out of it in just one day?