Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
By the looks of it, Bella is frantically searching for something to pick the lock with. Or to stab me with. She’s going through the drawers and closet, but she won’t find anything. No one lives here but me and a handful of bodyguards in the staff wing.
Next up is the bookcase. She pulls out books and frantically checks behind them as well as inside them. I have to give her credit because she seems determined to succeed. Bella has never been the type to take anything lying down, which excites me because I like a challenge.
Oh, I know she hates me. After all, I fired her, kidnapped her to stop her from fleeing the country, and now I have her locked in a bedroom screaming bloody murder at me through the doorway.
My phone rings. It’s Massimo.
“You’d better get down to the waterfront,” he says.
“Now?”
“The fucking Irish have set fire to it. Six warehouses are already alight. So yeah, now.”
Fuck.
Leaving now when I need to talk to Bella is an inconvenience.
But this needs my immediate attention. Not to mention all of it. Playing push and pull with Bella, while enjoyable and, at times, pleasurable, is not where my head needs to be right now.
I pull up a new number in my phone and make a call. In two rings, a familiar sweet voice answers on the end of the line.
“Domenico!”
“I need you to come over,” I say roughly, my body still tight with need from the argument with Bella earlier. The hollering down the hall has quieted, and a quick glance at the computer screen tells me she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, calm and motionless. Thinking.
I’m not sure what she’s playing at, but I don’t have time to babysit her tantrum.
“Now?”
“Yeah, now.” I pause and think for a moment. “And bring an overnight bag.”
15
Bella
Somehow, I manage to fall asleep, and when I wake up, someone is standing over the bed looking down at me.
Blinking, a beautiful face comes into focus.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” The beautiful brunette smiles. She’s holding a tray of food in her hands. “I brought you something to eat.”
I recognize the face.
Nico’s sister.
But it can’t be.
She was the sweetest girl in the world. She would never be a part of this.
I sit up. “Arianna?”
Her beautiful smile widens. “You remember me.”
“Of course, I do.”
She was only eleven when I last saw her. But the sharp De Kysa jaw, big brown eyes, and lashings of long dark hair are unmistakable.
Nico’s baby sister has grown into a stunning woman.
Nico and I used to babysit her and Massimo when our parents were out for the evening, and I would spend hours brushing her hair in front of the movies we’d watch in their media room. She was the baby sister I never had, and we were close.
“I thought you might be hungry,” she says, offering me the food tray. “The calzone is Mama’s recipe. I remember how much you used to like it.”
“You’re a part of this?” I ask, confused that the sweet girl who used to sit on my bed and watch me put on my makeup is now an accomplice to her brother’s crimes.
She places the tray on the bedside table and sits on the edge of the bed. “I don’t agree with it.”
“Then why go along with it?”
“He’s my brother, Bella, and I trust him.”
“You think that keeping me prisoner in this room is something you should trust your brother about? He kidnapped me, Arianna, and now he’s keeping me locked up here like I’m fucking Rapunzel.”
“He said you came here of your own free will—”
“He escorted me back here. There was very little free will involved.”
“He said things got heated when you argued, so he put you in here to calm you down.”
“With the door locked from the outside.”
“That was unintentional.”
“Unintentional?” I can’t decide if Arianna has blind faith in her brother and will believe anything he says, or if she is a remarkable spin doctor and this is her telling me how it will be perceived by law enforcement should I go running to them.
She smiles again, and it’s sweet and kind. “It’s so good to see you again. When you left…” Her smile fades, replaced by sadness. “Well, Nico was heartbroken. We all were. You were such a big part of our lives. And to lose you at the same time as our mother—”
“I didn’t want to leave,” I say, suddenly needing her to know that because for some reason, I don’t want her to think I left her behind.
“I know. But I thought you were coming back. Then Nico went to America to find you—”
My eyes dart to her. “Nico came to the States? When?”
“A few months after you left, he ran away and flew to America to see you but came home not long after. Not a lot was said. My father and my brothers always kept things from me because they thought I was too young to understand. But I wasn’t too young to realize he was brokenhearted.”