Chapter 20
Twenty
Lissia
Replaying the conversation I wasn’t supposed to hear in my head filled me with anxiety.
Why did I eavesdrop? Why didn’t I go upstairs like Marchello had told me to? Then I wouldn’t know what was really going on.
“Dad agrees with you. As much as he doesn’t trust Gallanti, he doesn’t want to believe the man would sacrifice his daughter,” Milo said.
“He sacrificed her when he promised her to Collins.”
That was what had set this whole clusterfuck in motion. I threw a tantrum and ran straight into Marchello’s waiting, captive arms.
“How does a man do that to his own flesh and blood?” Marchello asked.
That was a very good question. One I planned to ask my father the next time I saw him.
“Dad originally thought I could use Lissia as leverage, but given the circumstances, I don’t think that’s an option,” Marchello told his brother.
That was a relief.
“Oh, the beast fell for the princess.” When Milo laughed, I smiled because I liked being the beauty to Marchello’s beast. “You may have to put the wedding off until we figure out if we’ll even be alive next week.”
“Why would you say that?” Marchello asked, and I wanted to hear that answer too. “We will take out whoever is necessary.”
“Even if it means killing Lissia’s father?”
“No,” I whispered as I backed away from the door.
“If that’s what I have to do.”
These were the things he didn’t want me to know. That was what he meant when he said I wouldn’t be able to forgive him for protecting his family.
But I couldn’t judge them too harshly. My father and Collins were undoubtedly plotting the death of Marchello and Milo. Who would succeed?
Ricardo came into the kitchen. “There you are.”
“Huh?” I dropped the empty mixing bowl on the floor. “You scared me.”
“You’ve been so jumpy today.” He scooped up the bowl and handed it to me.
“Have I?” You would be too if you heard the man you love threaten to kill your father. “I was lost in thought.”
“About something good?”
“No, not really.”
“Why?”
“If you haven’t noticed, I’m being held against my will.” I preheated the oven in preparation for the brownies I was about to make.
“You don’t always act like that’s a problem.”
“It isn’t most of the time, but I do miss my mother.”
That was true, but I had an ulterior motive for this particular conversation. Guilt rattled me for what I was about to set in motion, but it couldn’t be helped—not if I wanted to stop the devastating train wreck that was headed in my direction.
“I can understand that.” Ricardo touched my arm. “I’m sure she’s worried about you.”
“I would do anything to hear her voice right now.”
“Did you tell Marchello this? I’m sure if he knew how much this means to you, he would make an exception.”
“Have you met the man?” I took the carton of eggs out of the refrigerator. “He doesn’t make exceptions.”
“He didn’t rearrange my face the other day when I lost you.”
“You didn’t lose me.” I opened the pantry and searched for the oil. “I went for a walk. You knew I was on the property.”
“Marchello didn’t see it that way.”
“I’m sorry.”
I was even more sorry for what I was about to do. If I was successful, Marchello would definitely take it out of Ricardo.
“Marchello was right,” Ricardo said. “I shouldn’t have let you go off on your own.”
“You shouldn’t have let me?” I placed my hand on my hip. “Have you met me?”
“I could have kept a safe distance and still let you have your time to yourself.”
“That’s why you’re so sweet.” I touched his hand. “You look out for me.”
“Always.”
“I wish my mother knew that I have someone like you looking out for me.” I looked down at my feet. I couldn’t look him in the eyes as I lied to him. “For all she knows, I’m chained in a basement or something.”
“Marchello would never do that.”
“Oh, I know.” I stroked the back of his hand. “But my mom doesn’t know that. Marchello is so caught up in this war with my father that he doesn’t think my mom needs to know I’m safe. He tends to forget the human side.”
“That’s probably because he wants to keep your father guessing.”
“My mother wouldn’t tell anyone if I was able to speak with her. She would just be so happy to know I was okay. I would swear her to secrecy, and she would agree. We have that kind of relationship.” I looked up, trying to use my best innocent eyes, then turned away from him and sighed. “I miss her so much.”
“I’m sorry.” He touched my shoulder. “I wish there was something I could do.”
“You do?” I glanced at him. “Like what?”
“Oh, well, maybe I could ask Marchello to—”
“No!”
He frowned.
“I’ve already asked Marchello. If he knows I came to you with this, he’ll think we betrayed him, and neither of us want that.”
“No, I don’t want to upset him.”
Ricardo took out his phone, and I clasped my hands behind my back. I didn’t want to appear too eager and reach for it, but time was of the essence.
“If you give me your mother’s number,” he said, “I could call her later and let her know you’re alright.”
“What?” I knew that was too easy. “It’s kind of you to offer, but I think she would feel better if she heard it from me. I want her to understand that I don’t need her going to my father. I want her to know I’m cool with the situation.”
I hated myself for doing this. Ricardo had been so good to me, and I was lying to his face. I needed that phone, but not to call my mother.
“If I could borrow your phone, I can call my mom later. When Marchello’s not around.”
“I’m sorry, Lissia, but I can’t give you my phone.” He shook his head. “Marchello is already pissed at me. If he found out I let you use my phone, he would kill me.”
“He won’t find out. I won’t tell him.”
I glanced at his phone. Please… I’m trying to save Marchello’s life. I’m trying to stop him from killing my father and vice versa.
Ricardo looked at me and then at his phone.
Come on.
He extended his hand, but as I reached for it, Marchello entered the kitchen. Ricardo dropped his phone but quickly retrieved it from under a chair.
“What are you two up to?” Marchello asked.
“Nothing,” Ricardo answered too fast.
“We’re making brownies.” I kissed Marchello’s cheek. “What are you doing?”
“Checking on you.” He backed me against the counter and placed his hands on either side. “Making sure you’re not getting into trouble.”
“I’ll leave you two alone.” Ricardo hurried out of the kitchen. Was his heart beating as fast as mine was?
“You scared him away.” I ducked under Marchello’s arm. “He was going to help me figure out how to make the brownies.”
“You don’t know how to make boxed brownies?”
“No, I’ve never done it before. We have people for that.”
“So do I, but I can make brownies from a box.”
“That’s because you can do anything.” I showed him the box. “Since you scared off Ricardo, you can help me.”
“A woman who got her degree in three years can certainly make these.” He took the box from me and then glanced at the counter. “You already preheated the oven. And you have the ingredients ready to go.”
“I read the directions.”
“That’s half the battle.” He smirked. “Let’s tackle this together.”
“You want to bake with me?”
“Is that so shocking?”
“You don’t seem like a man who bakes.” I ripped open the top of the box and pulled out the bag of chocolate mix. It already smelled delicious.
“I’m full of surprises.” He shoved the bowl in my direction. “Pour the mix in there.”
I carefully dumped the powdery chocolate into the bowl, trying not to spill any on the immaculate white counter.
He went to the sink and washed and dried his hands before opening a cupboard and selecting a pan. I had forgotten that we would need one of those.
How does he know his way around a kitchen?
He greased the bottom of the brownie pan with such ease. He’d done this before. As he faced the stove, I took in his broad, muscular back and shoulders. The sheer strength of him overwhelmed me, especially when we were intimate.
I wanted him to overpower me and take control. When he released his beast, I needed to submit to his every whim.
“Crack the eggs.”
“What?” I gazed into his eyes as confusion clouded my mind.
“You can crack the eggs into the bowl.”
“How do I do that?”
“Are you kidding me?” He came over to the center island where I had been working. “You’ve never cracked an egg before?”
“I told you we have people who do that for me.”
“Oh, princess, you constantly prove my point about you.” He joined me by the bowl and handed me an egg out of the carton. “But I suppose it isn’t all your fault. It looks like getting your cherry popped wasn’t your only first in this safe house.”
I’ve experienced many firsts here. Falling in love is the biggest.
“I’m an expert shopper.” I eyed the egg, trying to determine the best way to crack it. “I know how to spend money.”
“I’m not going to argue that.” He glanced at the egg. “What are you waiting for?”
“Won’t the shells get in the bowl?”
“It’s a possibility.” He moved behind me and took my hand. “Let me help you.”
“Okay.” My knees buckled like a silly teenager when his sculpted chest pressed against my back. “What now?”
“Let me lead.”
“Your favorite thing.” I smiled as he guided my hand to the side of the bowl.
“Put your thumb on the center of the egg and your finger on top.” He positioned my fingers, caressing them. “Like that.”
“Now what?” I looked over my shoulder to find him staring into my eyes.
“This.” He pressed his lips against mine, kissing me softly. As we kissed, he hit the egg against the side of the bowl and managed to get the liquid into it without the shell following.
“How did you do that?” I studied the egg, making sure there weren’t any remnants of the shells.
“I have skills.”
“I guess I can’t argue that,” I said.
“You argue everything else.”
I didn’t respond. Why give him the satisfaction of being right?
“Now you try this one.” He handed me another egg. “Just like I did it.”
“Okay.” I positioned my fingers like he showed me, smacked the egg on the side of the ceramic bowl, and both the slimy inside and a few slivers of the shell landed into the brownie mix. “Shit!”
“Language.” He glanced inside the bowl. “It takes some practice.”
He took the bowl from me, brought it to the sink, and carefully fished out the pieces of the shell.
“It’s not so bad.” He returned the bowl to me. “Now you can measure out the water and the oil. Do you think you can handle that?”
“I’m not a complete idiot.”
“I didn’t say you were.” He brought the pan over to the island. “As a matter of fact, I don’t think you’re an idiot at all.”
“Where did you learn to cook?”
“Making brownies hardly qualifies as cooking.”
“You’ve made more than brownies. I can tell.”
“My mother made sure Milo and I were self-sufficient.” He handed me a wooden spoon. “Stir until it’s all blended.”
“We don’t have to use one of those electric things?”
“A mixer?” He laughed from deep inside his chest. “No.”
“Your mom taught you to read great books and cook.” I stirred the thickening batter. “She sounds like a wonderful mom.”
“She was.” He cleaned up around me as I continued to blend the mixture into a rich, chocolate temptation.
“How old were you when she…”
“Eighteen.” He put the egg carton into the refrigerator. “The same age she was when she had me.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize your parents were so young.”
“My mom was eighteen and my father was twenty when they had me.” He put the oil back in the pantry. “A year later, they had Milo, and we all seem to have grown up together. We had a lot of fun.”
“Your dad is so… I don’t know, powerful and scary. I didn’t realize he’s only fifty.”
“My mother’s death did something to him.” He shrugged. “It made him more dangerous than he already was. We stopped having fun when she died.”
“Losing her must have been difficult on all of you.”
“We didn’t just lose her.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was five months pregnant with another boy.”
“Oh.” I stopped stirring and reached for his hand. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that.”
“Not many people do.” He looked at the bowl. “You can pour that into the pan now.”
“You all must have been devastated.” My eyes filled with tears. I put the bowl on the counter and hugged him. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for your family. I’m really sorry.”
“That was a long time ago.” He held me close, breathing deeply against my hair. “I try not to think about it.”
“But it haunts you.” I pulled back from him. “It has to.”
“It’s in the past.” He wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I’ve never seen you cry before.”
“I try not to.” I shook my head. “Crying can ruin a perfectly mastered face.”
“I’ve been mean to you. I’ve said and done things that really hurt you, but you’ve never cried.” He stroked my wet face. “I took you hostage. Locked you in a room. Left you alone after our first time. Called you spoiled.”
“I am spoiled.” I couldn’t deny that. I didn’t even know how to crack an egg, and it never even occurred to me that I should possess a few basic life skills. “You weren’t wrong about that.”
“I haven’t been that great to you.”
“You have your moments.”
“I’m trying to be serious,” he said. “You’ve gotten mad at me. You’ve stormed away. But you’ve never cried.”
I’ve cried. Just not in front of you.
“Do you want to make me cry?” I asked.
“I want to make you do a lot of things, but crying isn’t one of them.”
I wanted more than anything to stay here with him in this bubble we had created. Just the two of us. But that wasn’t possible. Not unless I could come up with a way to make peace between our families.
We couldn’t have a future until that happened.
More tears fell when I realized what a daunting task that would be. I couldn’t even figure out how to get access to a phone, much less work out a treaty between two families who had years of hate between one another.
“Hey.” Marchello wiped my tears again. “You don’t have to feel sorry about what happened to my mother. It was twelve years ago. We’re fine. She’s at peace.”
“You telling me a little about her helps me understand you.”
He cupped my face and lowered his lips to mine. “You might not like understanding me.”
“You’re wrong.” I kissed him, holding on and keeping him close to me.
“There aren’t many people who know me well or even want to understand me.”
“That’s probably because they’re all afraid of you.”
“That could be true.” He let go of me. “Let’s get these brownies in the oven.”
He took the bowl and poured the batter into the pan.
“Wouldn’t you like to understand me better?” I asked.
“I think I would.” He placed the pan in the oven and set the timer. “I can figure out almost anyone, but you are a tough one. That frustrates me.”
“Mystery is good.” I winked. “It keeps you guessing.”
“Like the mystery I walked in on between you and Ricardo?”
“Oh, that?” I dropped my gaze to his mouth because it was irresistibly sexy, but also because I couldn’t look into his eyes when I lied to him.
“What were you and Ricardo talking about when I walked in?” he asked.
“Nothing at all.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Not sure.” I placed the bowl in the sink.
“If you’re lying, things will get a lot worse for you. Are you sure there isn’t something you want to tell me before it’s too late?”