13. Alexander
Chapter 13
Alexander
T he light sedative the doctor gave her took effect quickly. Within minutes, her breathing evened out, and she slipped into a deep sleep.
After he left, I carefully removed Chloe’s shoes, stripped down to my boxer briefs and climbed in beside her. I pulled her into my arms, tucking her close against me, the warmth of her body grounding me in the chaos.
She’ll need to go to the clinic in the morning to have her wrist X-rayed to determine whether it’s broken. The doctor bandaged it before he left, stabilising it as best he could until then.
Since we returned, she hasn’t spoken a word, and her silence is eating away at me. The decisions I’ve made regarding her are like a heavy weight on my chest. I’m anxious, wondering what tomorrow will bring. I can’t shake the feeling that we’re only at the beginning of whatever this is, and I don’t know if I’m ready for what comes next.
Chloe thinks I brought her here for selfish reasons, and in part, she’s not wrong. But once I found out who she actually was, the true gravity of her situation, and our past connection, my perspective shifted .
There’s so much more she doesn’t understand.
I want to give her a chance at a better life, to make up, even if just a little, for the hurt my father unknowingly caused her.
Theodore is far from innocent in this entire mess. His actions are what started this clusterfuck, and naturally, my old man took advantage of that. It’s what he does. He’s a master at spotting vulnerabilities in others, always scheming for ways to exploit their weaknesses for his own gain.
It’s unfair that Chloe—or Angelina, for that matter—have had to bear the consequences of our fathers’ actions. They shouldn’t be the ones paying for their mistakes.
I open my eyes to the soft glow of morning light flooding the room. It was dark when I finally fell asleep, so I know we slept through the night. Chloe is still nestled against me, wrapped tightly in my arms.
I don’t know what time it is, but I know my day should have started hours ago. I’m usually in my home gym, working up a sweat well before the sun rises.
I’m taking a rare morning off. I’ll go with Chloe to the clinic for her X-ray, whether she wants me there or not. She may not see it yet, especially given how I’ve treated her so far, but I want to be there for her.
I can’t afford to let her slip away again. If I’m going to make this work, I need to be patient and play my cards right. I have to figure out how to win her over without revealing my true intentions.
There’s no quick fix, so I have to brace myself for the long game, and I can only hope I have the patience to see it through. Since she’s been here, Chloe’s behaviour tells me she won’t make this easy .
I carefully slide my arm out from under her neck, doing my best not to disturb her. I’ve heard her up late most nights when I head to my room, so she likely needs the rest.
I expect to find her still curled up on my bed when I step out of the bathroom, a white towel loosely wrapped around my waist, another in my hand as I scrub it through my thick, damp hair. But to my surprise, she’s gone. Panic—no, fear might be a better word to describe my feelings.
Will this bullshit never end?
Dropping the towel in my hand onto the floor, I tug off the other as I rush back into my dressing room, yanking a pair of jeans off the hanger and slipping into them quickly. There’s no time for underwear—she could be anywhere by now.
“Carmella,” I call out as I descend the stairs two at a time. Fuck. When I get no answer from her, I break into a jog, heading straight for the kitchen, which is inconveniently positioned at the rear of the house.
“Carmella,” I breathe out breathlessly as I round the corner. “Have you seen …” My words trail off when I spot Chloe sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping on a cup of coffee like she hasn’t a care in the world, while I’m left feeling like I just lost a few more years off my life.
“Morning, Mr Mancini,” Carmella says with a smile, flipping something in the pan on the stovetop. “Have I seen what?”
“Umm …” I scratch my head, scrambling for an excuse. “My … uh … gold cufflinks. I think I left them in the pocket of my suit trousers.”
“Oh. I haven’t seen them, but I can check with the dry cleaner if you like.”
“Great … thanks.”
“Would you like a cup of coffee? Breakfast will be ready shortly. ”
“Please.” I take a tentative step toward the breakfast bar. Chloe hasn’t looked at me yet; she chooses to keep her back to me, so I pull out a stool and take the seat beside her. “How’s your hand this morning?”
She lifts one shoulder, still refusing to meet my gaze. “Tender.”
“I’ll take you to the clinic after breakfast for your scan.”
“Where is my dad?”
“Safe.”
That has her snapping her head in my direction.
Finally.
Her eyes narrow slightly as they take in my appearance. In my rush to get down here, I only bothered to zip my jeans, forgetting to button them. She’s probably still fuming at me, but I don’t miss the flicker of appreciation in her gaze as it lingers on my bare chest, tracing the line of my tattoo.
I got the rosary beads inked in memory of my mother. She always had a pair clutched in her hand when she was alive. In death as well. I made sure she was buried with her favourite set.
Now that I’m privy to the type of man my father is, I’ve often wondered if that’s why she held onto them so tightly.
“Safe where?” Chloe snaps, her eyes locking with mine. “Is he alive?”
“Of course, he’s alive,” I reply, trying to keep my tone steady. “I told you I’d take care of him. I’m a man of my word.”
“Ha! I know exactly what type of man you are, Alexander Mancini,” she retorts, her voice dripping with bitterness. “The kind who kidnaps women against their will, threatens to put a bullet in their father’s head unless they comply with your demands, and then demolishes their house as a safeguard so they have nowhere else to go.”
I hear Carmella gasp, and I tilt my face toward the ceiling, groaning inwardly. On the surface, yes, that’s precisely what I did. But what she doesn’t understand is that things aren’t always as they seem.
My morning went exactly as expected. Shit. Now I’ve got two hostile women to deal with. Carmella has never been this cold towards me. She barely spoke during breakfast, practically slamming both my coffee and my plate down in front of me, and has refused to make eye contact with me since Chloe’s confession.
It should be me who’s angry at her for leaving the window open, allowing Chloe to escape.
Fucking women.
This is precisely why I choose to stay single. I’m not interested in all that drama.
I should’ve gone straight to work when we returned from the clinic, but obviously, I’m a glutton for punishment. I couldn’t bring myself to leave Chloe alone, deciding to spend the day trying to repair the bridge I’d burned between us.
Thankfully, her wrist isn’t broken, just badly sprained. The doctor has given her some pain medication and instructed a combination of rest, ice, compression, and elevation. Tomorrow, he wants her to start range-of-motion exercises. She’s stubborn, so at least if I’m here, I can make sure she follows orders.
When we reenter the house, I guide her upstairs to my room. She’ll stay with me until I can install some bars on the window in her bedroom. I’m not taking any chances with this one. She’s likely already plotting her next escape—or maybe planning to murder me in my sleep.
“Lie down,” I command, pulling back the covers on my bed. She shoots me a dirty look but slips off her shoes and does as she’s told.
She showered before we left for the clinic. I had offered to help her since she only had one functioning hand, but she shot me down. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I willingly let you put your hands on me again, arsehole.” Her words were solidified when she proceeded to slam the bathroom door in my face.
I’m not used to being so blatantly disrespected, but a part of me also enjoys her sass. Call me crazy, but her fierceness turns me on.
Once she’s lying down, I grab one of my pillows and carefully place it under her injured wrist, then pull the covers up to her chin. Her narrowed eyes follow my every move, watching me like a hawk.
I head into the bathroom, grab the glass from the countertop, and fill it with water so she can take her pain medication.
When I return to the room, her eyes are closed, but the scowl still etched on her face tells me she’s far from asleep. I roll my lips to hide my smile as I take a seat on the side of the bed. As soon as the mattress dips, her pretty whisky-coloured eyes spring open.
“Lift up,” I say, sliding my hand under her neck and elevating her head off the pillow. “You need to take your pain meds.” She winces when she pushes up onto her elbows, and I hate seeing her in pain. “Open up.”
She looks less than impressed but does as instructed. I place the pill on her tongue and bring the glass to her lips. “Good girl.” My praise earns me another dirty look. I barely manage to suppress my grin, trying to hide my amusement. “Are you going to behave yourself today, bella ?”
“Are you going to tell me where my father is?” she counters .
“No. In my world, good behaviour is rarely left unrecognised. When you do the right thing, you not only earn respect, but you’re also rewarded in ways that matter.”
“And in what world is that?” she asks, bitterness lacing her words.
“Have you ever heard of the Cosa Nostra ?”
Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t answer my question. Both her mother and paternal grandmother are Sicilian, so I have no doubt she understands exactly what I’m saying.
I don’t usually lean on my family’s Mafia ties or ruthless reputation to get what I want, but maybe a little fear will serve me well this time. Planting doubt in this temptress might be the push I need to make her fall in line.
I slip her medication back into the pocket of my suit jacket and stand. I’m taking control of this. Not just to make sure she gets her regular dosage, but to prevent her from overdosing. Nothing would surprise me with this woman. She seems to hate me enough that I wouldn’t put it past her to try anything to escape this situation.
I move across the room and sit in the chair by the window. Once again, her eyes follow my every move.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice laced with suspicion.
“Supervising you,” I reply coolly. “Until you can learn how to behave, consider me your constant shadow.”
This time, I don’t hide the smile that curves my lips when she rolls over with a huff, giving me her back.