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“He hates me. He would do it just to hurt me. He . . . he isn’t a normal person.”
“He could hurt you.”
“He won’t. Not today. Not if I play the part he wants me to play. He is winning,” she added. “He is slightly less dangerous when he is up. I’ll be fine.”
I ran my hand through my hair in frustration. I wanted to get her someplace safe. After that, I wanted a whole lot of other things. But I knew she was right. I couldn’t force her to endanger her child.
“Fine. I will leave.” I watched as her shoulders sagged in relief. “But only if you meet me. Tonight.”
“It’s too risky.”
“I have a suite at the Carlyle.”
“Of course you do,” she said with an eye roll. It was good to see her normal sassy attitude return.
“I will text you the room number. Use the service entrance. Promise me you will be there.”
“This is insane.”
“Promise me, Francesca. Or you will get that war.”
“Fine,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “Please go now. Someone is coming.”
I nodded, brushing her hair away from her beautiful face. I hated to leave her here. But I had to.
“Delete the last text.”
She nodded shakily, quickly doing as she was told. We both heard footsteps. She dialed again, holding the phone to her cheek.
“He’s not answering,” I heard her say as she walked back into the open space where Philip and his goons were waiting.
“Too bad,” Philip said.
“Can I go now?”
“Just one last thing,” he said, pulling her into his arms for a long, wet kiss. Francesca stood stiffly in his arms. I felt my whole body tense up, ready to run in there and pull him off her. If he forced her to do anything else, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.
“Just like old times . . .” he said softly. “You must be getting lonely in that big bed.”
“I’m fine.”
“A woman needs a tune-up now and then. I know there hasn’t been anyone else. If there had been, I would have killed them.”
“No. There hasn’t been anyone else.”
He squeezed her and kissed her again. I saw red.
“We have to take care of that soon.”
She said nothing. I could feel her distress, though. And I fucking hated it.
“But not today,” he said, finally releasing her.
She exhaled as he walked away, his goons following him. Only one remained. He took her arm and she yanked it away.
“I can walk to the car by myself, Paulie.”
He shrugged and gestured to the stairs. I didn’t look away until she was completely out of sight. My mind was racing.
But in the midst of all the turmoil, there was one bright, shining thought.
I would see her tonight.
We would be alone together tonight.
Chapter Twelve
Francesca
What the hell am I doing here?
The hotel loomed large ahead of me, but I hesitated at the back door. I had promised Vincent that I would come. He knew the truth now. Or some of it, anyway. Enough. More than enough to destroy the plans my ex had laid out.
I was surprised at the relief I felt. Not that I thought he could help me. But I had hated lying to him. It felt disloyal, more disloyal than I wanted to admit.
Butterflies were dancing in my stomach for the first time since my sixteenth birthday. I hadn’t even been this nervous on my wedding day. And yet, the worst that could happen was what probably should happen.
But it wouldn’t. Not today. Today was a time-out, a cease-fire in our endless war that burned hot and cold.
I was intrigued at the thought of what he might be expecting to happen. Sex, most likely. It was true that I hadn’t been with anyone since Philip over three years before. I hadn’t wanted to, expect for the vague desire to wash him away with the touch of someone else’s hands.
But that desire was anything but vague when it came to Vincent. I’d had trouble pushing the thought of that kiss out of my mind ever since I’d slapped him and walked away. I’d had trouble thinking of anything else, other than saving my daughter, of course.
How tragically cruel that the person Philip wanted me to kill was the one man alive who had ever literally made me weak in the knees. Not just my knees, either. I’d had dreams about him since our meeting in the park. Long, achingly passionate dreams that had me waking up in a cold sweat. I often caught myself staring into the mirror at night, wondering if he would like my nightgown . . . wondering if he would be rough or gentle when he took it off me.
I closed my eyes and exhaled, then reached for the door handle. I had to put all of that out of my mind. Even if I wanted him, no matter how badly, he was still my enemy. Not in my heart, but in fact. In reality.
