Chapter Twenty
Gemma
I woke with cramping pain. But this time it wasn’t from losing the baby I’d wanted with every cell of my body, it was the period that mocked me for being lacking as a mother.
I might have carried my son to full term, but his heart had stopped working long before I’d delivered him alone in my apartment. Not even the paramedics had been able to save him when they’d finally arrived.
I’d been sitting in a puddle of blood, my still baby in my arms while I’d sobbed over him. The paramedics had had to pry him from my arms, then treat me for shock along with blood loss.
The memory made me ache all over even as a great, yawning emptiness grew bigger inside. I would have given my life to save my baby, my love for him as instinctive as breathing. But at least I’d seen his face, touched his lifeless body. I’d never given Evander that same opportunity, and now guilt stabbed at me like a thousand knives.
My dark thoughts faded as the noise of an incoming vehicle intensified. I frowned. I’d been so distracted by grief and guilt I hadn’t noticed anything else. That it sounded more like a car than Evander’s Harley made me sit up straighter, my heart pounding.
Though a hopeful part of me wondered if rescue was imminent, a bigger part was filled with foreboding and dread. Then I made out yet another rumbling engine. Two cars approached.
A shiver of hot and cold pulsed through me. I pulled the bedcover over my nakedness. This wasn’t good. Not at all.
The first car stopped in front of the cabin, its engine cutting off as the second car pulled in and went quiet. Doors opened then thunked shut as every muscle I had drew tight.
I knew I was in trouble even before the tread of what I guessed were six or seven people sounded on the porch outside. Indistinct voices murmured near the front door, but I made out a few sentences.
“The Harley’s gone.”
“Son-of-a-bitch. So much for an element of surprise.”
So definitely the bad guys, then. A bead of sweat rolled off my brow as my stomach churned. I wouldn’t be getting saved by these men. It didn’t take a genius to realize I was in real trouble now.
“You five wait out here while Tommy and I look around inside.” The man speaking sounded like the leader, his don’t fuck with me tone coming across loud and clear. That I’d soon be discovered sent my heart racing into overdrive. “We might find something useful.”
I bit back a whimper as two sets of footsteps entered the cabin.
Rembrandt sensed my high emotions as much as he sensed the intruders. He hissed, the fur on his neck standing high along with his now super-thick tail. Shit. He was in danger too. I shoved him off the mattress and he scooted out of sight under the bed...just in time.
Two men sauntered through the bedroom doorway as though they owned the place, as though they didn’t have a care in the world. I held their hard stares even as I gulped down escalating panic. Of course they were carefree. They weren’t the ones cuffed to a bed and left vulnerable and without any defense.
I immediately recognized the man at the front in his tailored dark suit and black fedora hat. Enzo Accardi. He didn’t know it but we were related. His eyes were the same color as mine; his nose the same tilt. His skin was paler, his stubble-free jawline a little broader, stronger, his chin more indented, but otherwise the likeness was uncanny given we only shared a father.
He paused at seeing me cuffed to the bed, a smirk then pulling at his full-lipped mouth. Some errant strands of dark hair stuck out from under his hat and across his brow. “Well, well. What— who —do we have here?”
The man behind him, Tommy, had thinning gray-brown hair, a paunch that stretched tight his tweed-colored suit jacket, and a black star inked across his left cheek. He stopped just behind Enzo and I knew right away his deference meant Enzo was the leader. But then, Enzo would be the future Accardi don.
I’d grown up observing my half-brother from pictures on the internet and in newspapers. I’d learned about his often devious acts that had landed him in trouble and often in court, where a highly-paid legal team then cleared him of any charges.
He was daddy’s golden boy, his one and only son. His only child...as far as anyone knew.
It was odd finally studying my brother in person and discovering he had the same dimple in the left cheek as me. We were the spitting image of our dear old dad, I only hoped and prayed Enzo didn’t notice or all my subterfuge, my sacrifices had been for nothing.
“Looks like you’ve scored an unexpected little prize, boss.”
Boss ? I frowned. Surely Enzo hadn’t stepped into our father’s role just yet?
He nodded. “If she’s a prisoner, she’s someone important to Evander.” He rubbed his jaw with rigid knuckles inked with symbols similar to hieroglyphics. “But would killing her be enough of a payoff after what they did to my father?”
I blinked. Huh ?
“You could kill a hundred of the Agostino whores and it wouldn’t make up for them murdering our don.”
I sucked in a startled breath. My father was dead? No . Impossible! I would have heard! He was an infamous mobster, his exploits all too often in the tabloids. I’d made it my mission to keep up to date with his every move. I’d decided it was for my own good to keep my friends close and my family AKA enemies closer, even if it was never going to be in a physical sense.
I bit back a devastated sob. Had I seriously given up all chance of love, cast aside my soulmate, for nothing? With my dad gone I’d had nothing to worry about. I doubted very much my brother would care about one of the many women our dad had fucked, even if I’d been born as a result.
Enzo squeezed his eyes closed, pain radiating from his every pore.
Holy shit. He’d loved his father— our father—and grieved for him still. Had his love been misplaced or was it just that he didn’t know any better because of his upbringing?
Tommy nodded somberly at Enzo’s distress. “Blood for blood.” He glanced my way with a curled lip before turning back to Enzo. “He’d be proud of everything you’ve accomplished since the Agostinos whacked him in cold blood.”
Enzo’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching. “Nothing will ever make up for his death.”
I blinked up at them, waiting for grief to come, for any emotion, really. I experienced nothing but relief knowing all my fears were now unfounded. “He’s really dead?” I bit my lip at Enzo’s hard stare. “I-I hadn’t heard.”
He took a step toward me. “That’s because we stopped the media from releasing any and all information. No need to make our enemies look like heroes for ridding the world of the big, bad Accardi wolf.” He bared his teeth at me and said in a low tone, “Guess I’m that motherfucker now.”
I shrank back against the mattress, curling my fingers around the bedcover and dragging it higher. I swallowed hard. I had to play it smart if I wanted to survive. I sucked in a steadying breath. “Good.” I managed a smile at his narrowed eyes. “You don’t know how glad I am that you’re here to fuck up Evander’s plans.”
He arched a brow and grated out, “Is that so?”
I nodded, then rattled the cuff attached to the bedhead. “He trapped me here, made sure I couldn’t escape. I’m his prisoner.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” He crossed his arms, then added, “What might he do to get you back if we took you from him?”
My heart rate surged yet again. Surely Enzo wasn’t planning on taking me? How could he? I was chained to the bedhead. And I didn’t want to leave one prison just to become a prisoner somewhere else!
“Boss, that’s not a good idea,” Tommy interjected. “There’s something about her...” He shook his head as if to clear it, then added, “We should kill her and avenge your father. Make these fuckers pay.”
Enzo rounded on his soldier. “When I want your advice, Tommy, I’ll fucking ask for it! You’re my soldier, not my god damn consigliere!”
Tommy nodded stiffly. “Understood, boss.”
My shoulders tensed as I read between the lines. Tommy wanted more control and was undoubtedly power hungry. He craved something beyond his current soldier status.
Enzo refocused on me. “Where does Evander keep the key to your cuff?”
My breath caught. I couldn’t admit he took them with him. I needed to buy some time or risk being caught up in the violent storm that was my brother. He really did seem a little unhinged. His bloodthirsty soldier definitely wasn’t helping my cause. “I-I wish I knew. He’s hidden them in a different spot each time.”
Enzo nodded at Tommy and his soldier immediately left the room, making a racket in the kitchen soon after as he opened drawers and swept aside dishes and utensils.
Enzo sat of the edge of my bed before he reached out and traced my cuff with the back of his blunt fingertips. “I’d really hate to have to cut off your hand in order to bring you with me.” He shook his head. “I’d hate even more for your blood to destroy the upholstery in my car.” His lip curled. “There really is nothing I hate more than a sticky, smelly mess.”
I guessed his father had given him that little phobia after being witness to more than a few mutilated and bloodied bodies in numerous cars.
Though fear spun in a vortex inside of me, I casually blew some hair off my face and said, “If it makes you feel any better, I’d hate to lose my hand and possibly die from blood loss.”
Enzo laughed. “You’re really trying to brazen this out, aren’t you?” His eyes warmed the smallest bit. He shrugged. “I admire that. You remind me of my younger self when I had everything to prove and even more to lose.”
A door banged open, its wood splintering. I winced. Tommy had obviously given up on finding the key to my handcuffs in the kitchen and lounge room areas and had kicked open Evander’s studio door. I chewed my bottom lip. How was I going to explain the artwork inside?
Tommy’s voice echoed from inside the studio.
“Boss, you might want to take a look at this. There are paintings— portraits —in this room...everywhere.”
My breathing hitched even as an idea formed inside my head. I tossed back my hair. “What’s inside that room is yet another reason I’d like to keep my hand.”
Enzo frowned as he searched my stare. Then he stood and strolled out of the bedroom before his tread disappeared into the studio.
Terror threatened to overwhelm me but I held my nerve while I waited for Enzo, my brother, to return.
He stepped back into my prison AKA bedroom a handful of minutes later. “Who painted you?”
I lifted my chin. “I did.” I couldn’t let them know Evander was the artist. My senses screamed that it’d be a mistake to tell them the truth. “My pseudonym is Chase Holland.” I snorted belligerently. “No one has ever suspected I’m a woman artist.”
“The portraits are good,” Enzo conceded. “ Very good. But your ego appears to be getting the better of you.” He chuckled darkly at my perplexed frown. “Is there a reason you only painted yourself?”
My mind whirled. Shit-oh-shit-oh-shit. “I-I didn’t have a choice. Evander forced me to paint me, myself and I.”
“A bit obsessed, isn’t he,” Enzo mused. He cocked his head to the side. “Not that I blame him, you have this certain look about you, one I can’t quite put my finger on.”
Son of a bitch.
I shrugged. “No one knows who the real Chase Holland is. It’s part of my marketing. My mystique helps my paintings sell as much as my talent does.”
I wasn’t lying, not really. Evander might be the Chase Holland but no one else knew that, certainly not Enzo or his soldiers. I hoped to keep it that way. Just as I hoped to keep Enzo and his crew from knowing I was related.
I didn’t doubt for a second my lovely brother would use me in some way to show his men how far he’d go to prove his worth as don. Going by Tommy’s earlier attitude, Enzo mightn’t have a choice.
“So whose are the landscapes?” he asked.
I flushed, caught off guard. “They’re mine too.” I cleared my throat, my fingers fluttering. “I use my real name for those. Evander gives me permission to paint landscapes when I’ve been a good girl. ”
Ugh . I was getting too good at this lying business. But desperate times called for desperate measures. I just had to make sure I didn’t get stuck in the web of lies and deceit I’d created.
Enzo smirked. “Perhaps I’ll have you paint for me,” he mused.
“I’d gladly do that if you promise not to keep me chained up like an animal.”
His eyes glinted, his smirk disappearing. “Do you really think you’re in any position to negotiate?”
I pushed a hand through my hair. “Do you think I’ll just roll over and surrender?”
He laughed then, a belly laugh that rolled off his tongue like smooth whiskey. “You and me, we aren’t so different. We don’t back down from a fight.” He nodded. “I like that.”
Bang. Bang.
My brother froze, his eyes then swinging to mine. “Seems like Evander isn’t prepared to give you up just yet.” He withdrew a gun from his holster and pressed himself against the wall near the doorway. His grin was sadistic, his eyes alight with anticipation. “May the best man win.”