Chapter 11 Presley
Presley
The balcony had become increasingly smaller since being trapped here for the past two months. I’d done everything in my power to push this singular thought out of my head, to see this any other way I possibly could, but Kingston was right.
For nearly two months, Adrian had seemingly tried to get us out of here, but he hadn’t been successful.
He used terminology that always made it seem as though things were right about to shift, with weeks or days, and yet months had passed.
While Kingston’s hurtful words echoed in my head, abrading my chest like tiny pricks of a needle, I pushed it away as I tried to focus on the point he was making.
Turning from the balcony, I stormed inside, seeing the bedroom empty as usual.
Adrian had been so stressed recently that when he did come to bed, he was only there for mere hours before leaving again.
We’d had a few nights a week that he’d hold me, fuck me, or taste me.
Then he’d let me go and be off again, never telling me more than a few details at a time.
I knew he couldn’t share everything, and while I trusted him, I was starting to lose my patience.
Pulling out my phone, I sent him a text.
Me: Where are you, need to talk.
Adrian probably wouldn’t see it for a while, so I set off to find Alex.
I missed Leon and other members of the staff who used to be in the house.
Now, I felt like I was walking on eggshells, being watched and monitored by every single person in the house.
Markos had ordered the clean out, so all the people now milling about surely reported to him.
Alex was sitting outside by the pool, a book rested next to her while she stared at nothing with a sorrowful expression on her face.
The sound of birds flitting in the surrounding trees filled the air as I walked out onto the paved terrace.
Alex hadn’t seen me yet, which allowed me a few extra moments to study her.
Things shifted last night when Markos arrived and demanded to have dinner with her.
I had wanted to kill him, but he’d brought too many men with him, and I refused to put Alex in danger.
So we sat through another dinner where we had to consider if we’d be forced to see someone executed or if something was going to happen to one of us. I hated the way the color had drained from her face and how terrified she looked as she stared out at the pool, seeing nothing.
I had to try and give her hope that we’d get out of here. I walked closer and got her attention. “Hey.”
Her blue gaze snapped over, meeting mine. Her mouth tilted into a smile as she made room on her lounger for me. I slid onto the cushion and let out a heavy sigh.
“That bad, huh?” She laughed while reaching for her book.
I wanted to ask if she was okay, but I already knew the answer.
I placed my head on her shoulder and began to read over her shoulder. “I’m going to push Adrian to get us out of here, but it’s hard to get him to just sit down long enough to have that conversation.”
Alex made a humming sound. “You mean the conversation regarding his alliance and the farce that it was?”
My gut twisted into a knot. Yeah, that part.
“I know he deviated from some initial plan…” I started, but she stopped me with a shake of her head.
“Presley, you know better than that. Don’t justify his behavior simply because he developed feelings for you.”
“You sound like your brother,” I mused with a sigh.
She glanced over at me, as if she were waiting for me to continue.
“Kingston said almost the same thing when I called last night. He still hates me, that much is clear.”
Alex released her book, allowing it to drop to her lap, and grabbed my hand. “You’ve developed feelings for Adrian, right?”
Something like guilt twisted around in my chest, but I lifted my chin and owned it, meeting her intense stare. “I have.”
“Then why do you care if King hates you or not?” Her brow raised in challenge.
“I don’t.”
I did, though, and I knew I needed to get a handle on why it mattered so much. The fact that both brothers hated me enough to steal my virginity only to use that against Adrian would be enough to sever our ties forever. It didn’t matter what they thought of me.
A ping sounded from my phone, making me look down.
Adrian: Just pulling up now
Sliding out of the lounger, I glanced down at Alex and reached for her hand. “He’s here. I need to go see what I can do. But I promise you, if he keeps putting this off, we’re going to scale those damn cliffs, I don’t care. We’re getting out of here.”
She laughed as I walked away, but I was serious.
I was done being here.
Adrian walked into the bedroom with the grace of a ruling monarch, but the bags under his eyes looked as though he carried the same weight as one.
He wore a navy-blue suit with a wrinkled white shirt buttoned beneath it.
His brown shoes were scuffed and even had a few dark, mysterious blotches on them.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, moving from the bed.
He began taking off his jacket and cuff links, but didn’t reply. I tried not to take it personally, but it stung. I waited for him to remove his dress shirt and shoes, until he was just in his slacks.
“Adrian.”
Finally, he turned to me with those ocean eyes that matched the waves currently crashing against the cliffs below. “I know what you want from me…” He ran his fingers through his hair and let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve been trying to push things off because I don’t know how to—”
His voice cracked, and the vulnerability in his expression had me moving closer.
I was in his arms with his mouth at my ear, his fingers trailing through the curls in my hair.
“You used to wear this in a crown, always braided…these past few months it’s been down.
You’re nearly nineteen now. I had this idea for your birthday… ”
I smiled into his chest, but his severe sigh returned, and he pulled back.
“I know you need to know all of it, from the start. I’m going to tell you, and then I’m going to find a way to get you home. I promise.”
He pressed a kiss to the corner of my eye ever so gently, and then he sat down on the edge of the bed, and I sat across from him on the small, tufted stool.
“My father was Lucian Adesso. He was the leader of a smaller mafia outfit here in Italy. His best friend was Markos. While their history is a little exhaustive, the important part is that my brothers and I grew up knowing Markos as our godfather. He was always around, every birthday, every Christmas…he was there. When I was seven, Renzo was ten and Benni was twelve…our dad had been flying to New York more often. Markos would watch over us anytime he’d go, except for this one time.
Dad left again on urgent business; there was this man who was making things difficult for his business partners.
He needed to organize the muscle or something, but Markos was worried about him, so he chartered a flight and took all of us with him. ”
Something told me this was going to make me cry. My fingers dug into the fabric underneath me and tried to balance my breathing.
“We arrived in New York, and Markos immediately had us pile into a big SUV. I remember wondering if the television screens worked that were in the back of the headrests. I was so focused on the screen and whether I could find any movies in the car that I missed Benni screaming how he’d spotted our dad.
We were pulling up to a restaurant where he was supposed to be meeting his men, but when I looked out the window, Dad wasn’t paying attention to us.
The moment he realized we had arrived, he ignored whoever he’d been talking to.
Instead, he started toward our car, turning his back on the shadows…
” His voice trailed off right as my heart continued to bang against my rib cage.
I pictured small Adrian, just like me at that age, and how we’d both been so vulnerable and so scared. I didn’t even need to hear him say what happened next; I already knew. Someone had killed his father right in front of his three sons and best friend.
“A man came out of the shadows, he killed my father so fast, it was impossible for Markos to even open his door to get to him. One second, our dad was smiling, walking toward us, and the next, his eyes were too wide and then…” His voice cracked, and I rushed forward, crowding the space by his knees.
“Adrian.”
He shook his head, a smile lingering on his lips, but a few tears fell from his lashes.
“Markos was so shocked, he didn’t even tell us to stay back.
All three of us boys ran to our dad. We held his hand while he slipped away.
Markos cried, and I remember he didn’t even look to see who had done it, as if he knew.
Later, when we asked how we’d find who killed him, he explained that he knew who had done it.
Then he showed us this playing card, the only thing on it was, The Joker. ”
My father? No, that couldn’t be right.
“Adrian.” I wanted to be sensitive, but there just wasn’t any way my father could have been the one to kill his.
His hand came to my hair as he began soothing me. “Shhh, it’s okay. I don’t blame you for your father’s sin…although that was the plan.”
I sat back on my heels and watched as new emotions worked his features. Agony, guilt…pain.
Tilting my head the slightest bit, I asked, “What exactly was the plan?”