48. Lauren
48
Lauren
“I have money, Colin,” I mutter, hoping my voice is soft and convincing. My heart pounds painfully in my chest as I swallow. “Whatever your reason for wanting to kill me, I can make it worth your while. Just name your price. Please.”
Trying to hold back the tears is impossible at this point. They flow freely, running down my cheeks and dripping from my chin. The buttons on my shirt bounce rapidly, matching my frantic breathing. I don’t want to die like this. I can’t.
“ Name your price . Mhmm. I’m glad you mentioned that.”
So this is about money . He’s pissed at me for firing him. No worries. I can’t imagine a ransom my family won’t pay.
“Whatever the amount, we’ll give it to you,” I assure him, hope ballooning in my chest as he smiles.
“No, I don’t need your money, princess. I need you .”
I stare at him blankly for a moment. “What?”
“You heard me,” he replies. “That’s my price. You.”
“I’m not an object. You can’t have me,” I throw back .
“Can’t?” Colin laughs. “I’m not familiar with that word.” He pushes himself up and stands before me, teasing the end of the ribbon. “If you want to be free, I’d advise you get unfamiliar with it too.”
My eyes move from where he’s gently tugging on the string to his pleasant face. “If I give myself to you, you’d let me go. Is that it?”
“No, sweetheart. I’m never letting you go,” Colin murmurs, dipping to my level. “You have a choice to give yourself to me or die. It’s that simple.”
His words pierce the balloon of hope in my chest. “Is this revenge for firing you? Colin—”
“Shush.” He pinches my lips together, and I whimper.
He releases a long, soft exhale, going back to his original position. “It shouldn’t have come this, Lauren,” he says solemnly. “This could’ve all been avoided if you’d been with me.”
“I don’t understand—”
“Shush!” he cuts in fiercely, and I fold my lips. My heart is pounding so hard, I swear it’s going to burst.
“You asked what you’ve done to deserve this. The answer is nothing. Not directly, anyway. See, you’re the reason my dad is still lounging in that slammer. You’re the only wedge between him and freedom.”
My mouth falls open.
Colin smiles again.
“Yes, sweetheart. Gio Bianchi is my dad.”
I shake my head vigorously. “That’s impossible. The entire Bianchi family is either dead or behind bars.”
“Ha.” Colin clicks his tongue. “The FBI is smart but not as thorough as they’d liked to think they are. I was always hiding in plain sight. The estranged son, but his son nonetheless.”
He wets his mouth. “I suddenly feeling parched. How about you?”
I stare at him wordlessly .
“Water for you, scotch for me. I don’t want you inebriated just yet.” He walks toward the wooden cabinet resting between the living room and kitchen. As soon as his back gets turned to me, I bend and pull on the restraint with my teeth. It’s double knotted. Shit.
“A waste of time, I assure you,” he says gaily, pulling a bottle of scotch from the top row. “Do you think I’d make it so easy?”
I sob with frustration, twisting my wrists, still trying to get them through somehow.
“It’s easier to give into me, princess. An action you won’t regret.”
He twists the cap on the water bottle and rests it against my lips. “Drink.”
Though glaring at him defiantly, I still take a sip, one that seems to satisfy Colin. He rests it down on the floor beside my chair then takes a generous drink from the tumbler.
“Where was I? Oh, yes. My dad and I were at odds for years because I refused to help run his empire. I didn’t want to be the heir to a criminal enterprise. I wanted to earn my wealth the legal way.”
Yet he’d committed at least three felonies tonight. Something must’ve gone wrong at some point.
“As it turned out, being legit and rich don’t go together. I soon discovered my grave mistake, and I’ve been working on getting back in my father’s good graces ever since. This,” he points between us, “was a chance to prove myself to him.”
Holy shit.
If I’m out of the way, there will be no witness to testify against Gio. He’ll be a free man. With each passing second, the severity of my situation dawns on me. One thing’s for certain: Colin has no plans to let me go.
“It shouldn’t have come to this,” he’s saying as tears run down my cheeks. “The plan was to take you out that first day. ”
The day he ran into me on the sidewalk. “Why didn’t you?” I croak. Compared to what I’m going through, it would’ve been a small mercy.
Colin shrugs. “I tried to pull the knife from my waist, but I don’t know… Something stopped me, I guess. By the time I recovered, your little bodyguard had already whisked you away. Dad was pissed. Fuck,” he mutters as displeasure slides across his features.
My eyes shift to the bottle of scotch then back to him. I swipe my cheek across my shoulder, smearing the tears. I can’t afford to fall apart right now. “Let me guess: your dad wanted you to finish the job.”
“Your bodyguard was such a pesky obstruction; working for you was my only choice,” he replies. “Your vetting process is shit, by the way. HR barely scrutinized my doctored resume. They did no background checks. Not that I’m complaining. Without their incompetence, I wouldn’t have gotten close to you.”
“It was you,” I breathe, gently twisting my wrists. “You started that fire.”
“Yes, that was me.” He seems quite pleased with himself. “Getting the job gave me access to the building even before my first official day. The rest was quite easy. It would’ve worked if that asshole Oliver hadn’t smelled smoke.”
“I don’t get it. Why would you go to such lengths to kill me? A sniper could’ve done the job.”
He shakes his head violently. “I like to make my jobs look like an accident. A robbery gone wrong or an electrical mishap. I don’t use my gun unless I’m desperate.”
Like tonight.
“Dad called me a failure. Surprise, surprise.” He snorts. “He decided to send a real man to finish the job. His words, not mine.” A dry laugh escapes. “The ‘real man’ is the reason they’re all behind bars. He failed at taking you out then sang like a canary when the cops nabbed his sorry ass.” He throws up his hands. “And who does my dick of a dad summon to clean up the mess? Me. I had to show up for a job I didn’t know how to do.”
Which explains Oliver’s comment about him being useless and his inability to get the report done. The clues were right in front of me, and I missed them.
“Taking you out seemed quite simple at first, then it wasn’t.” A dreamy expression crosses his face. “You came back from your hiatus and smiled at me. You talked directly to me. For once, I didn’t feel… inadequate. Hence my dilemma; should I do as my father ordered or follow my heart?”
His smile disappears, expression going dark. “Then just like that, you made things easy for me.”
Colin dips at his waist, and my entire body goes still as the weapon emerges. He rests it on the nightstand beside the couch. “I’m not heartless. I’m kicking the ball into your court, Lauren. A life with me or death. Either way, my father will be free.”
It’s a no brainer. “You,” I reply in a rush. “I choose you, Colin.”
“Lorenzo. My name is Lorenzo,” he corrects me, his wary eyes searching my face.
“I choose you, Lorenzo. I want to live,” I say more firmly.
A long pause ensues, during which I try to breathe normally and keep a convincing look plastered on my face. He dips again at his waist and pulls out a knife, twisting it between his fingers, the skin between his brows creasing in a concentrated frown.
Please let him believe me.
Suddenly, he lunges, and I cry out in surprise. The knife swipes under my wrist, shredding the ribbon. He does the same with the other, and I examine the painful red marks that are already burning. My head shoots up as he violently lifts my chin.
“Why the fuck aren’t you thanking me? ”
“Thank you,” I whisper instantly.
Lorenzo smiles. “I don’t need words, princess.” He backs off. “Show me how thankful you are.”
Oh, God. I force a smile I hope looks seductive while nausea rises in my stomach. His smile softens as I stand. My body sways, and I right myself. I’m already sore from being strapped in that position for God knows how long.
His chest bounces on rapid breaths as I slowly undo my buttons. I shrug the shirt over my shoulders. My eyes are locked on his as it slides off my arms.
“Holy fuck, you’re a goddess,” he mutters.
He leans in and draws his fingers over my stomach, and I struggle not to flinch. Still wearing that seductive smile, I whisper, “Show me your bedroom, Lorenzo.”
The words have barely left my mouth, and he flies up from the arm of the couch and moves off. I dip in a crouch and tackle him. We fall to the wooden floor with a thud that shoots a painful line up my back. I quickly scramble up on all fours and shimmy back to the couch.
“Not so fast, you fucking bitch!” Lorenzo grabs my leg, yanking. My free leg shoots out, and his head jerks back as my foot connects with his face. I scramble forward again, panting as I grab the neck of the scotch bottle just as he leaps toward me. My eyes fly shut, and I swing with all my might. A sickening crunch fills my ears, and I open my eyes as he goes down.
Gasping for breath, I hurry to my feet, sparing his prone form a quick once-over before hightailing it toward the front door. It’s locked. Fuck. I turn back, running through the living room and toward the back door. The knob turns as I twist it, and I sob with relief as I dash into the pitch-black night.
Right down a steep slope.
A terrified scream tears from my mouth as I fall.