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He nodded, again not looking at me. “It’s because of you I have a future here again in Maywood Heights. A town who, though hesitant, is very much open to allowing me to coexist here, and a family who seems to be on the cusp of doing the same.” His head swung in my direction. “My son has actually opened up the lines of communication regarding him and myself, and I have nothing but you to thank for that. He’s very grateful for my part in your return, so is the rest of the city. Again, I thank you for this.”
I gripped the chair as he came over, the cane definitely just for security. He barely used it on the way over, and when he spotted me looking at it, he smiled again.
“You’re wondering about it?” He handed it over to Lucas before folding his body into the chair across from mine. Lucas handed him a box of cigars then, and after Callum selected, Lucas lit it for him. Thick smoke curled out of the aged man’s mouth. “I have a bum leg. An accident and one involving your very own grandfather, Ibrahim.”
I said nothing, trying to focus and not die on that fucking smoke. It stunk to high heaven.
“Your grandfather laid low for a long time, quiet,” he said, nodding. “Our last meeting together ended up being a café in Sicily. He had a terrible accident there. A bombing actually.”
My mouth parted. “What? What are you…”
“As you can see, I didn’t come away without my own scars that day.” He patted his leg, making me twitch. “Old leg acts up every once in a while. I was a bit slow that day and, unfortunately, failed to get out unscathed.”
I was trying to wrap my head around what he was telling me, not believing it. “Are you saying you killed my grandfather?” The words didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. “You’re the reason he’s…”
“Dead.” He said it so easy, cruelly. Like this wasn’t his first time getting involved with something like this, and he definitely didn’t care about that fact. He adjusted in his chair. “Your grandfather wronged me, but it started way before his last day in Sicily.”
My phone buzzed, but as it was still in Lucas’s hand, I could only look at it flash.
“My grandson probably?” Callum asked, studying me. He gestured toward the phone with his cigar. “You want to answer it? I can wait.”
I twitched, the dare in this man’s voice evident. Especially since he’d said he didn’t want us to have any distractions when he spoke to me.
I stayed in my place, not sure what would happen if I didn’t. I didn’t know if Callum had a weapon, but I was definitely aware of Lucas’s. He was his bodyguard. I swallowed. “Are you going to kill me?”
His brow lifted, slow with the question. He tapped off some ash in an ashtray Lucas provided. “What makes you think I’d want to kill you, or that I’d ever have any desire to do that?”
“I don’t know.” My voice shook, watching Lucas. He took a new position by the window, but it’d be naive of me to head for the door behind my chair. Stupid. I faced Callum. “Besides the fact you’re keeping me here, you just said you killed my grandfather.”
And he’d obviously hated him. I didn’t know what that had to do with me, but he was keeping me here.
“I did say that,” he stated, the admittance clenching my stomach, racing my heart. He crossed his legs at the knee. “But this was penance. I don’t do anything unless it’s necessary, and I very much want you alive. Like I said, I have a proposal for you.”
“Which is?”
“First is that you hear me out.” He waved a hand. “And though some of this may be hard for you to hear, painful, I hope, by the end, you’ll understand. It’d be wise of you, for yourself as well as your family. You seem to find a lot of people in your life you care about these days. Family and friends.”
So that was definitely a threat, the breath coming out short from my lips, choppy. “What is all this, Callum?”
And what, upon me hearing, would be painful.
His silence felt like the prelude to that, and when he puffed out more smoke, I nearly did gag. His smile was small. “You are beautiful, you know that? I can see why my grandson is enamored with you.” My stomach soured, and his grin widened. “Surely, you know how beautiful you are?”
“Stop please.” I swallowed down the bile. “You’re making me uncomfortable.”
“I don’t want to do that.” He nearly sounded genuine. “I do find you lovely, and I want you to see that by the end of the conversation. I admire you, Sloane. You’re strong. Resilient. Whatever life has tossed your way, you’ve navigated those waters and brilliantly.” He laughed a little. “How you didn’t know you weren’t Godfrey and Marilyn Sloane’s child, I have no idea. Your adoptive father, though a good man, was very weak and your adoptive mother the same.”
“They didn’t adopt me. They kidnapped me.”
“Actually, it was an adoption, and one I made happen almost legitimately,” he admitted, my eyes wide. His head cocked. “Surely, you didn’t believe Godfrey, as weak as he was, could have pulled off such a feat on his own. The man could barely get himself out of bed most days, and your adoptive mother wasn’t far off from that before her accident. She had such issues having children before Bruno came along and was just as depressed because of it. At least, that was what my people told me from the therapist records we acquired.”
I didn’t get any of this, my palms sweating and dampening the leather under my hands. “You kidnapped me?” The words drifted away from my lips whispered, panicked. “You took me?”
Callum’s focus on me didn’t waver, his face barely made out through the cloud of smoke that thickened the air around him. His lips turned down. “I told you some of this would be painful for you to hear, and it doesn’t please me to see you in pain. I’ve grown quite fond of you, Sloane. Truly.”
My throat jumped, and he set his cigar on the ashtray Lucas, once again, provided. The man actually lifted it for Callum’s use, and it seemed Lucas wasn’t just a bodyguard, but a henchman in the truest of forms.
Callum’s nod of gratitude was small in Lucas’s direction, his attention shifting to me. “I didn’t take you personally.”
