Chapter Sixteen
LEONI
“A pretty lady like yourself shouldn’t be sitting alone looking so… unhappy.”
The smooth Italian accent slides over me like silk. I turn slightly on my stool as the man eases into the space beside me. He’s handsome in an effortless, dangerous way. Dark eyes. A Sharp smile. And dimples that probably get him whatever he wants.
I swirl the olive in my martini with my cocktail stick, watching it spin.
“I’ll take a dirty martini,” he tells the barman easily. “And another for the lady.”
I don’t argue. I don’t have the energy. My head is still full of my father, the prison visit, Warren’s uncle, and the weight of unspoken things pressing down on my chest.
Everything feels heavy.
“Are you always this shy?” he asks.
I sigh and take the drink, knocking it back in one go before popping the olive into my mouth.“I’m not shy,” I say flatly. “I’m pissed off.”
His brow lifts, amused. “Pissed off suits you.” He sips his own drink. “English, sì? On holiday?”
I stare at my empty glass. Holiday. The word feels ridiculous. I haven’t relaxed once, I haven’t explored, let alone breathed properly.“Business,” I mutter.
“A woman doing business,” he says, like it’s a novelty. “With men like Toni Baxter?”
I glance sideways at him. “Is there something I should know?”
He smirks, draining his glass. “If I say certain things out loud, I might not live long enough to enjoy the view,” he murmurs, winking.
My smile fades. “What exactly are you saying?”
His gaze shifts past me. I turn slightly and see Toni watching from across the bar. Calm. Assessing. He flicks his head once. The man beside me stands immediately.
“It was lovely to meet you,” he says, his smile tight now, before walking away without another word.
My skin prickles. I slide off the stool and head straight for Toni. He doesn’t look away as I approach, his smile broadening when I stop inches from him. He taps the empty chair beside him, and I sit.
“What was that?” I ask.
“Be more specific.”
“One minute a handsome stranger is buying me drinks,” I say sharply, “and the next you give him a silent fuck off signal and he disappears.”
Toni chuckles, leaning back as if completely at ease. “What do you think of Italy so far?”
“I haven’t seen much of it.”
He presses a hand to his chest, mock wounded. “Then that is a tragedy.” He stands and offers me his arm. “You should come with me. I’ll show you the beach.”
I hesitate, scanning the bar. No Warren. No Anthony.
Against my better judgement, I stand and hook my arm through his.
The steps down to the sand feel endless, winding through stone and shadows until the path opens onto a small, private beach. The sky is streaked with gold and violet as the sun sinks toward the horizon.
I gasp softly. “Wow.”
“Picture perfect,” he says. “No?”
“It’s stunning.”
“I hope you didn’t think I was rude back there,” he murmurs as I slip my heels off and sink my toes into the sand.
I close my eyes and breathe in the sea air. “A little.”
He laughs. “I like your honesty.”
I glance back at him. “I could use some honesty myself.”
He waits a beat, watching me carefully. Then says, “You’re sleeping with my nephew.”
I scowl. “That’s rude. And none of your business.”
“He mentioned it,” Toni says lightly. “Don’t be embarrassed. In my world, many men sleep with the help.”
Anger flares sharp and fast. “You sound exactly like your brother,” I snap. “Rude and arrogant.”
He laughs again. “But honest, sì?”
“What business do you actually do, Toni?”
“Shipments. Mostly.”
“Of what?”
His eyes sharpen. “You sound suspiciously like the police.”
“I just want to know what Warren is involved in,” I say quietly. “Before I get in too deep.”
“Deep?” he repeats calmly. “Ambitious, when he’s just paying your wage.”
Footsteps crunch behind us. Warren and Anthony round the corner, faces tight with panic, stopping short when they see us.
Toni turns slightly toward them. “She sounds like the police,” he calls out mildly.
Warren strides closer. “Don’t be ridiculous, Toni. She works for me.”
“And you checked her background?”
“Of course.”
“Because when you consider where she comes from—”
“What does my background have to do with anything?” I cut in. “And how do you even know about it?”
Toni doesn’t look at me. He’s locked in a stare with Warren now, who steps closer, subtly, protectively placing himself almost between us. And suddenly, the beach doesn’t feel peaceful anymore.
Toni’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Strip.” The word lands flat and final, carried on the sea breeze like it’s nothing more than a suggestion.
I laugh once, sharp and disbelieving. “Excuse me?”
“If you are police,” he says calmly, “you will be wearing a wire. Or a tracker. Something small. Clever.” His gaze drags over me, clinical now, not admiring. “Take off your clothes. We will see.”
Warren stiffens beside me. “No,” he snaps instantly. “That’s not happening.”
Toni doesn’t even look at him. “Then we have a problem.”
Anthony shifts behind Warren. I can feel the atmosphere change, the beach suddenly feels too open and exposed.
“This is insane,” I say. “You can’t seriously be asking me to—”
“Warren,” Toni cuts in softly, finally turning his head. “You brought her into my world. You sat her at my table. Now she’s asking questions.” His voice remains calm, almost bored. “If she is clean, this ends. If she is not—” He shrugs. “We deal with it.”
Warren steps closer to me, his body a shield. “She’s not police,” he growls. “I checked her.”
“And checks fail,” Toni replies. “Especially when emotions are involved.”
Silence stretches uncomfortably. I look at Warren. His jaw is locked so tight I can see the muscle jumping. His fists are clenched at his sides.
“You are not doing this,” he says again, but this time, there’s less certainty in it.
Toni tilts his head. “Unless you would prefer I have my men do it for her.”
My stomach drops.
“Don’t,” Warren snaps. “Don’t you dare—”
Then Toni steps closer. Just one pace. “She is not leaving until I know for certain.”
Warren exhales slowly. Painfully. Like something is being carved out of him. I can see the moment he makes the choice. He turns to me. And it hurts more than anything Toni could’ve said.
“Lee,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “Just do it.”
My chest tightens. “Warren—”
“I know,” he says quickly, lowering his voice. “I know. But if you don’t, this doesn’t end here.” His eyes flick to Toni, then back to mine. “I won’t let anyone touch you. I swear it. I’ll watch every second.”
Humiliation burns hot behind my eyes.
“You’re asking me to strip on a beach,” I whisper. “In front of three men. One of which I don’t even know.”
“You just need to show him you’re safe.”
“Why?” I hiss, “What have you got me involved in?”
“Nothing,” he snaps, “But you asked too many questions of the wrong person, and now here we are.”
“My men will be here any minute,” Toni chimes in. “If you want, we can wait for them.”
Warren bristles, his eyes burning into me. “Do it,” he says, with a warning tone to his voice. “Or I will.”
I inhale sharply, tears stinging my eyes. I take a deep breath and slowly lift my dress over my head.
Toni is watching, Warren is close, his eyes on the sand, and Anthony has his back to us.
“The rest,” Toni mutters, sounding bored.
I shove the dress hard against Warren's chest and he grips it, his knuckles white.
I unclip my bra, dropping it to the sand. Toni sweeps down to pick it up, examining it like its spy equipment. Then he glances up, satisfied, before moving his eyes to my knickers.
I huff, ignoring the heat creeping up my chest as I slide them off and stand before him completely naked, humiliation burning me. He gives a stiff nod, “Okay,” he mutters, holding out my bra.
I snatch it and he turns his back, just as three men round the corner. He holds up a hand and they stop; their eyes fixed on me.
“Turn around,” Warren yells, and they do.
He holds my dress against me, trying to cover me up as I slip my underwear back in place. ‘Thank you,” he murmurs, trying to look me in the eye. I avoid it, my anger boiling steadily under the surface as I pull my dress on.
“Now that's done, why don’t we go back to the terrace and have some food?” Toni announces, like we’re all friends.
I scoff, snatching my heels from the sand and shoving past Warren.
“Leoni, wait,” he calls.
“Fuck you,” I yell over my shoulder.
Warren
I watch her storm away down the road toward the villa. It’s at least an hour’s walk, maybe more, but when I call her name, she doesn’t even slow.
“I’ll be in touch once I’ve reviewed the documents,” Toni says, holding out his hand. I hesitate, then shake it. “No hard feelings,” he adds smoothly.
I tell Anthony to get the car and take off after Leoni, bracing myself for the explosion waiting for me. But when I finally catch up, the anger hits differently.
She’s crying. Silent, brutal tears slide down her cheeks and soak into the cotton of her dress.
“I’m sorry,” I say, and it’s the truth, even if it’s not enough.
“I want to go home,” she whispers. “Tonight.”
“That’s not possible—”
“Then make it possible,” she snaps, spinning on me.
“Lee, calm down,” I say, touching her arm.
She jerks away like I burned her. “Don’t you dare patronise me!”
“I’m not—”
She closes the distance and slams her hands into my chest, shoving me back a step. “I’m going home. And when we get there, I’m done. We’re done. Don’t call me. Don’t look at me.”
I shake my head slowly. “Not happening.”
Her hands curl into fists. She shoves me again. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.” I grab her wrists and pull her in. “You can be angry. I get it. But you don’t get to just walk away.”
Headlights wash over us. She yanks free. “Watch me.” She turns and marches on.
“Leoni, get in the car. It’s miles to the villa.”
“I’m going to the airport!”
Anthony rolls the window down. “Want me to handle it?”
The thought of anyone else touching her twists something ugly in my chest. “No,” I snap. “She needs time to cool off.”
“I can hear you!” she yells.
“The airports over two hours by car,” I call after her. “Walking, it’ll take you all night, Little Dove.”
She throws her hands in the air. “I knew you were a walking red flag. I just ignored it. Or maybe you distracted me enough not to care.”
“Blame me,” I say evenly. “If it helps.”
“But all this?” she fires back, like I haven’t spoken. “It’s fucked up.”
“I agree.”
“What exactly is your family involved in?”
I scoff. “Don’t pretend you haven’t looked. I check your phone. Your search history makes interesting reading.”
She spins again, walking backwards now. “See? Red flag.”
I shrug. “Never said I wasn’t.”
Her eyes narrow. “So what, you launder money?” I smirk. “You traffic women?”
I laugh outright. “That one’s not true.”
She slows, her breath shaky now, and I’m right behind her. “Why can’t you just tell me?”
I don’t answer.
Instead, I grab her wrist, spin her in one smooth motion, and haul her over my shoulder like she weighs nothing. She yelps as I slap her thigh once, a warning that my resolve is fading fast, and I turn back toward the car.
“Because” I say calmly, ignoring her protests, “then I’d have to kill you, Little Dove.”
She falls asleep somewhere between the coast road and the turn-off to the villa.
I notice when the anger drains out of her body, when her spine softens, when her head tips toward the window and her breathing evens out. She curls in on herself instinctively, knees drawn up, turning her back to me like she hates me even in sleep.
I want to pull her against me, feel the warmth of her, reassure myself she’s still here, but she’s made her boundary painfully clear tonight. So, I sit there, jaw tight, watching the reflection of her face in the glass.
Anthony says nothing, but his eyes keep flicking to me in the reflection of the mirror, like he wants to.
When we reach the villa, Anthony cuts the engine and gets out without a word. He doesn’t offer to help take her inside. He knows better.
I open Leoni’s door quietly. Carefully, I slide one arm under her knees and the other around her back, lifting her into my chest. She sighs softly but doesn’t wake, her face pressing into my shoulder like she belongs there.
I carry her inside, through the cool stone corridors, up the stairs, and into the bedroom. I lower her onto the bed slowly, easing her shoes off, pulling the cover over her. She shifts, frowning slightly.
I straighten, turning away to strip off my jacket, then my shirt, planning to lie beside her without touching, without crowding. Just close enough to know she’s breathing. But when the mattress dips under my weight, her eyes flutter open.
“No,” she murmurs immediately, shaking her head. “You’re not staying in here.”
“I won’t touch you,” I say quietly.
She pushes herself up just enough to meet my gaze. Her eyes are glassy with sleep and hurt. “I said no.”
I nod once. Because I understand. And because this is the consequence of dragging her here thinking she’d be safer with me, than back home.
I pull my shirt back on, step away from the bed, and grab a blanket from the chair.
She watches me with heavy-lidded eyes until I reach the door.
“Get some sleep,” I say. She turns away again, curling back into herself.