Page 62

This time, when my laugh broke free, it floated into the air, and I quickly bit my lip, hoping Jacob hadn’t heard.

“You have a beautiful smile,” Rocco whispered. “Although there is one problem with it.”

My brows furrowed, taken aback by what I thought was an insult. “What?”

Rocco chuckled again before reaching a hand toward my face. Not knowing what to do, I froze, my eyes widening and my heart suddenly beating harder against my rib cage. His thumb touched my lip, swiping along it. “It would be a perfect smile if you did not have a little melon juice on it.”

He removed his hand, and embarrassment slithered through me at seeing he’d wiped away a droplet from the fruit I’d been shoveling in my mouth.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Jacob’s voice broke through the haze that had clouded my head, and both Rocco and I leaped to our feet. If I thought my heart was pounding hard a few moments ago, it was nothing compared to the furious rhythm it was now beating to.

My stomach plummeted to my bare feet as Jacob stormed toward us, an inferno blazing in his eyes and his hands balled into fists by his side.

“Signor-” Rocco started as Jacob reached us, but his words were cut off when Jacob wrapped a hand around his neck.

“I told you yesterday to keep your eyes off my wife,” Jacob snarled, his tone serious. Deadly. “I would have thought my warning to pluck your fucking eyeballs from your thick head would have been enough to keep you away.” A gasp escaped me, and I took a step back, fear crawling through my veins, but Jacob didn’t notice. “And yet, here you are, not just looking at my wife, but touching her.”

Concerned for Rocco’s life, I swallowed my nerves and called out. “Jacob, he was-”

Jacob’s narrowed gaze whipped to me, his lips curled in disgust, and any plea that was on the tip of my tongue died an instant death at the venom radiating off him. “Go to our room, Charlotte.”

My mouth moved before I could stop it. “But-”

“NOW!” Jacob bellowed.

I flinched, tears of anger and fear stabbing my eyes. Lowering my gaze so I didn’t look at Rocco and make things worse for him, I scurried away, my tail between my legs, and my drawing completely forgotten.

I paced the length of the bedroom, my heart in my mouth, and a tremor in my hands. According to the clock on the wall, forty minutes had passed, and every one of them had felt like an hour instead.

Each time I pressed my ear against the door to try to hear what was happening, I was greeted with nothing but silence. My mind feared the worst; had Jacob punched Rocco? Had he dragged him by the throat to Captain Louis and demanded that he fire Rocco?

The thought of Rocco losing his job because of me was like acid sitting in my stomach.

When my feet began to ache, I flopped onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. This was all my fault; I knew Jacob wouldn’t want me speaking to Rocco. Why did I have to go and start a conversation with him? Why didn’t I move away when I realized he was going to touch me?

Question after question circled in my head, and I wondered if I should find Jacob and do a better job of explaining that my interaction with Rocco was innocent. Deciding that was a bad idea, I released a heavy sigh but bolted upright at hearing a noise coming from nearby that sounded like something heavy was being dragged along the floor.

I leaped off the bed and rushed to the window, pressing my nose against it in an attempt to see the decking to the right of our bedroom. When a deafening splash reached my ears, dread landed in my stomach like a ten-ton weight had just been dropped there. For several seconds, I could only stare out at the sea, my feet frozen in fear.

It sounded like whatever had been dropped had been heavy.

Unhelpfully, my mind decided to conjure up the image of a body being thrown overboard. Not just any body, either. Rocco’s.

The bedroom door opened, and I spun, my eyes almost bugging out of my head when Jacob stepped inside, a streak of blood on his shirt. He closed the door behind him with a thud, twisting the lock. Rooted to the spot as he slowly prowled toward me, fear kept my mouth firmly closed.

Stopping in front of me, he glared down at me with a coldness in his eyes that I’d never seen before. For several tense beats, he didn’t say anything. Didn’t move a muscle. He was so still that I didn’t even think he was breathing.

“Jacob,” I whispered when my anxiety shot through the roof.

“Silence, angel.” His voice was soft, but it held an unmissable threat to obey him.

I clamped my lips together, knowing if I tried to talk back, I would only be making things worse for myself. The little voice in my head that had been quiet since yesterday afternoon chose to reappear, reminding me that I had a chance to escape Jacob but hadn’t taken it.

Jacob lifted his hand, and I couldn’t help but flinch as he reached out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his tender action the opposite of the rage I knew was brewing under his skin. Moving his hand from my ear to my lip, he swiped a thumb over it in the same place Rocco had touched.

His head tilted to the side, a smirk creeping over his lips. “He thought he could touch what belonged to me,” he whispered, almost as if he were talking to himself.