Chapter 17
Catarina stared into the distance, hardly noticing the birds darting across the autumn sky or the fiery reds and golds spreading through the trees. Her mind was locked on the words she’d overheard moments ago. Sal was going to use himself as bait. He was going to lure her father out.
Her phone rang, jolting her out of the spiral.
She looked down, and her heart did a little skip.
Even after a month, the thrill of owning such a sophisticated phone hadn’t worn off.
Sal had replaced her older phone with a fancy new one with fun bells and whistles.
Some of which, she had no idea how to use.
And now her screen glowed with a familiar number. Madelaine.
Grinning, Catarina answered. “Hello?”
“Hey girlfriend!” Maddy’s bright voice came through, bubbling with excitement. “I still can’t get over this—I can just call you now! Every time feels like Christmas morning!”
Catarina laughed, the tension in her shoulders easing. “I know! I feel the same way every time I hear your voice.” She curled deeper into the sofa cushions, letting herself sink into the rare comfort. “So what are you doing?”
“Nothing important,” Maddy admitted, her tone dropping just slightly. “I just…got this sense that trouble was brewing, so I thought I’d check in.”
Catarina chuckled softly. “You and your weird senses,” she teased, though she knew better. Maddy’s instincts were uncanny. She always seemed to know when storms—literal or figurative—were brewing. And she was never wrong.
“Tell me what’s going on, Cat,” Maddy urged, her voice suddenly firm.
Catarina’s fingers tightened around the phone. “I think Sal is going to…taunt my father.”
Silence stretched for a beat, both women absorbing the weight of those words.
Finally, Maddy exhaled sharply. “Okay, that’s going to end badly. We need to stop him.” Catarina could almost picture her friend pacing, long strides carrying her back and forth as her restless energy burned out.
“I agree,” Catarina whispered, though her voice held a steel she hadn’t realized was there.
Maddy laughed suddenly, sharp and full of relief.
“There she is! That’s the Cat I remember.
We dragged that spunk out of you in school, and then you buried it again.
Your father really is a bastard. I don’t know everything he’s done to you these past years, but…
” she hesitated, then her voice softened, “you’re healing now, aren’t you?
Your husband’s done something. Changed something. ”
Catarina closed her eyes, her mind flashing back to that kiss in Sal’s office, the way his patience never wavered even when hers did. “Yeah,” she admitted, voice low. “He’s been…really good.”
“You sound almost like your old self again,” Maddy said warmly.
But then, with a dramatic throat-clearing, she added, “As much as I want details about your exciting new sex life, that’ll have to wait.
Right now, tell me how we’re keeping your new hubby safe from the merciless, soulless cruelty of your father. ”
Catarina straightened, determination sparking in her chest. “I need to find a woman,” she blurted out. “I don’t know her name, but I think she works at a strip club. She’s the key.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” Catarina’s voice gained momentum as the memory sharpened.
“Months ago, my father made me follow him around on his errands. We stopped at a strip club for maybe ten minutes. I overheard him talking to a woman—she had a sparkly outfit, caked-on stage makeup. He told her to get a job at a club in Chicago. Her job was to get close to Sal. To lure him out.”
“Out to where?” Maddy asked, her tone sharp with curiosity. “And is Sal really stupid enough to get lured around by a stripper?”
Catarina bit her lip, considering the plan. “He doesn’t seem like that is a possibility,” she admitted. “And honestly, it sounds too basic. Like something my father would think of, but not something that would actually work.”
“I’ve done some digging since your little Vegas wedding,” Maddy said smugly, papers rustling on her end. “And girl, your husband isn’t just some crime boss. He’s got legit businesses all over the map. He’s richy rich, Cat.”
Catarina rolled her eyes, though her cheeks heated. “I don’t care about his money, Maddy,” she said firmly. Then, after a long pause, she added, “He’s…teaching me self-defense.”
Silence. Then a hiss. “No way!”
“Way,” Catarina countered, almost giddy with the confession. Saying it aloud felt scandalous—more daring than if she’d admitted to something kinky.
“That’s all well and good,” Maddy said, her voice sly now, “but the last time we talked, you told me the marriage hadn’t been…consummated. Has that changed?”
Catarina’s blush deepened, even though no one could see her. But she smiled, remembering his kiss, the way her body had responded. “Not quite,” she whispered, soft and certain. “But I’m hoping it might soon.”
There was an ear-splitting screech on the line that forced Catarina to hold the phone away from her ear. She burst into laughter at her friend’s wild enthusiasm.
“That’s amazing!” Maddy crowed. “When? Is he gentle? Passionate? Hot? Don’t tell me he is cold—his pictures make him look like an iceberg with good hair!”
Catarina’s laughter spilled out again. “I’m not completely sure. We haven’t…gotten that far. Yet.”
Maddy gasped. “But you will?”
“Yeah,” Catarina admitted, butterflies dancing in her stomach. “I hope so. He’s…uh…pretty hot, Maddy.”
“You like your husband?” Maddy whispered as if the idea were scandalous.
Catarina laughed, startled at how true the words felt. “Yeah. I do. He’s not the monster the rumors make him out to be. He’s kind. Gentle. He’s…nice, Maddy.”
A pause stretched, softer this time. Then Maddy said warmly, “That’s really good, Cat. I’m happy for you.”
Catarina exhaled slowly. “Yeah. Now I just need to figure out how to seduce him.” Another screech. Catarina laughed, shaking her head. “Why are you shocked? You know how much I want kids.”
“Yeah, but we never thought you’d want them with a guy in…well, you know.”
“I know,” she murmured.
A noise behind her made her jump, and she twisted around quickly. “I’d better go. Someone’s coming. Love you—talk soon!”
She ended the call just as Barbara entered, balancing a tray.
“Good afternoon, dear,” the housekeeper said gently. “You skipped lunch again. Mr. Romano asked me to bring you a little something.”
Catarina looked down at the tray: neat sandwiches, bright slices of fruit, and a glass of lemonade beading with condensation. It was simple, but it felt extravagant compared to the careless way she’d been treated in her father’s house.
When she looked up again, Barbara was already halfway into the room.
“Barbara!” she blurted, nerves tightening her throat. “Thank you,” she whispered, her hands knotting together. “This is very kind of you.”
Barbara hesitated as she set the tray down on a table nearby, but before she left, the older woman looked at Catarina.
Her eyes softened, though her lips pressed into a firm line.
“Your husband…he’s a good man.” She shook her head as if biting back more words.
“Never mind. If you need anything, you ask me. I’ll make you whatever you like. ”
Catarina stared down at the tray, then had an idea. “Barbara!” she called, rushing to the door.
The housekeeper had already walked out, but she leaned her head back in, brows raised. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Would you…um…the cooking lessons? I don’t want to be a bother but…?”
Barbara stepped back into the room, folding her hands in front of her apron. “I thought Sal was going to teach you.”
Catarina blushed, then gestured toward the tray.
“He was.” She hesitated, then ducked her head so the older woman couldn’t see her cheeks flaming.
“I mean… Sal said that he’d teach me, but…
,” she sighed, not exactly sure how to explain.
Finally, she lifted her eyes and clarified, “Maybe…you could teach me how to make Sal’s favorite foods? ”
Barbara smiled gently and nodded. “Absolutely. Whenever you’re ready, you just tell me, and I’ll make time for lessons.” A sly smile curved her mouth. “And yes, I know all of the man’s favorites. Stick with me, and you’ll have him spoiled in no time.”
Catarina’s smile broke free, brighter and more genuine than she could remember in years.
The idea of doing something for Sal warmed her chest, but the deeper truth—the thought of learning a life skill for herself, of no longer being helpless—lit something new inside her.
Her shoulders drew back, her spine straightened.
For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel like she was shrinking.
She didn’t notice the subtle change in her own step, the small bounce of energy that had never been there before, but Barbara did. The housekeeper’s eyes softened as Catarina left the room.
Halfway through the sandwich, inspiration struck like lightning. She leapt to her feet, nearly sprinting for the door before remembering the tray. With a quick, self-deprecating laugh, she shoved the last bite of bread into her mouth, gathered the tray, and carried it quickly downstairs.
“Thank you!” she called, etiquette forgotten as she popped the final grape into her mouth. She set the tray beside the sink, her grin widening at Barbara’s quiet chuckle before she darted off down the hallway.
At Sal’s office door, she hesitated. Knocking softly, she waited, then, hearing no response, pushed it open. The room was empty. Seizing the chance, she slipped inside, grabbed a few sheets of paper and one of his pens, then spun to leave.
And nearly collided with him.
Sal stood there with the same two powerful men from earlier although Tony was no longer with them, his presence filling the doorway like a wall. His gaze locked on her, sharp and intent, even as he extended his hand toward her without thought—claiming, steady, inevitable.
Her pulse leapt. That simple gesture sent heat rushing through her, equal parts pride and giddy nerves. Brushing imaginary crumbs from her dress, she crossed to him and slid her free hand into his, grounding herself in his strength.
“I thought of something,” she said, breathless, holding up the paper and pen as if to prove to him that she wasn’t invading his privacy. “I remembered where I saw the woman I drew for you.”
Sal’s eyes narrowed, instantly business. “You did?”
“Yes!” Catarina bounced slightly on her toes, unable to contain the spark of triumph. “I thought maybe if I drew the whole scene, it might help you track her down faster.”
For a long moment he studied her, unreadable. Then he nodded slowly. “That could be useful. But why not do it properly? Go to an art store. Get real paper. Charcoal pencils. Whatever you need.”
She blinked, startled by the suggestion, her mind spinning at the possibilities. “Would you…really be okay with that?” she whispered, suddenly aware of the other men watching, measuring her.
Sal chuckled, bending to brush his mouth against hers. The kiss was brief but delicious, an anchor of certainty. “Go. Buy whatever you want. Use the credit card I gave you.” His gaze hardened, stern but protective. “The one you still haven’t touched.”
Her lips parted, a small gasp of wonder escaping. Hope and excitement shimmered in her eyes. “Really?”
“Really,” he assured her.
Catarina rose onto her toes, surprising even herself as she tugged him down and kissed him. Hard. The spark of daring lit through her veins, and when Sal’s arm wrapped firmly around her back, pulling her flush against him, joy burst inside her chest like fireworks.
For several long, dizzying seconds, she let herself drown in the kiss—the wonder of his mouth claiming hers, the thrill of those hard, unyielding muscles pressed against her softer curves.
He tasted like strength and danger and something impossibly sweet when his teeth tugged teasingly at her lip, coaxing her into deepening the kiss.
The pen and paper slipped unnoticed from her hands to the floor as she gave in, sliding her fingers into his hair, her whole body humming with delight. For once, there was no fear, no shadow of her father, no hesitation. Just her. Just Sal. Just this kiss.
The deep, masculine chuckles behind them jolted her back to awareness.
She gasped, trying to pull away, but Sal’s arm held her fast. His grip wasn’t just possessive—it was protective, steady, reassuring.
And in truth, she didn’t really want to escape.
So instead, she turned her head with a breathless laugh, her cheeks burning, to find the two men grinning like wolves.
Color flooded her face, but instead of shrinking, Catarina laughed outright, pressing a playful hand against Sal’s chest as though to scold him for kissing her senseless in front of an audience.
He finally released her, and she smoothed her dress, still glowing with happiness that no amount of teasing could erase.
“Sorry to interrupt your conversation,” she said lightly to the men, her voice softer, but warm with humor. Then she glanced at Sal, only to stumble back at the look in his eyes. There was heat there—undeniable, unhidden—and it made her pulse skitter with wild excitement.
He growled, low and promising, and Catarina spun before she could melt right there on the spot. “I’ll be back soon,” she called over her shoulder, lifting her hand in a breezy wave, trying to mask her giddiness with nonchalance.
“Tony!” Sal barked.
The man appeared instantly, as if waiting just around the corner.
“What’s up, boss?” Tony asked, bracing his hands on his hips.
“Catarina needs to go to an art store. I haven’t taught her to drive yet, so make sure she has a driver. Tell whoever you send to see that she gets everything she needs. Don’t let her scrimp.