Sabrina bit her lip, nodding.
“And this,” He pushed open a set of double doors, “Is my bedroom.”
Placing a hand on Sabrina’s lower back, Cesare guided her into the space. Straight ahead of them stood a large cherry wood fourposter bed, with crisp white bedding and large stuffed pillows.
Double doors to the right of the bed were already opened, letting fresh air in through billowing cream curtains leading to a balcony outside.
The phone rang again, and Cesare frowned as he shot off a quick text.
The wall to their left, opposite the balcony, had two heavy wooden doors on either side of a vintage bar cart with an assortment of beverage options. Cesare nodded at the doors.
“The one on the left leads to the study down the hall. You’re more than welcome to use it or any other room while you’re here. The door on the right goes to the bathroom.”
Sabrina hummed. “And when you leave and I can explore wherever I want, what should I look for then?” She asked with a smile across her lips.
“My house is your house, as long as you’re here. You’re welcome to go anywhere but the basement. Parts of it are still unfinished and unkept. But you can explore anywhere else inside or out on the grounds.”
“On the grounds.” Sabrina repeated, amused. “Sounds very posh, sir.”
Cesare hummed as he wrapped his arms around Sabrina’s waist, pulling her back against his chest. “I’ve never brought another woman into this room.” He admitted quietly.
Sabrina swallowed, as the implications of his words hovered in the air.
“I’m going to fuck you in this bed, baby.” He continued, placing a kiss on her neck. “Going to take such good care of you.”
Sabrina couldn’t hide the hitch in her breath and didn’t bother trying.
To both their disappointment, his phone rang once more, and with an irritated curse, he excused himself to take the call on the balcony.
Sabrina remained where she stood and stared at the bed.
Chapter Twenty-Six
(Cesare)
With a muffled curse, Cesare answered the fourth phone call from his father, as he walked out onto the balcony. “Pops, what’s the matter?”
“Your brother is missing.” His father’s gravelly voice spoke through the phone.
“What do you mean he’s missing? Who’s missing?” Cesare demanded.
“Enzo.” Cesare Sr. grunted. “His car was found abandoned on the side of the highway by local police. The front seat had a single red rose.”
Cesare blinked as a very old, deep-seated fury pulsed through his veins. “Damasco?”
His father gave a pained grunt of acknowledgment.
“Where are you?” Cesare growled.
“I’m in the basement.”
Cesare’s heart stopped for a moment, and he closed his eyes, struggling to keep his voice even. “Who’s basement, Pops?”
“Yours.”
Cesare hung up the phone and ran a hand through his hair, irritated to see it tremor just slightly out of the corner of his eye. He called Enzo’s number, and it went straight to voicemail.
Cesare fired off a text to Dante with a muttered curse. Their father had literally gotten away with murder. And when Cesare Sr. was released on good behavior, the man’s job, hisonlyjob, had been to stay out of further trouble.
