AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I ponder this question for what seems like hours. The conclusion I come to isn’t a good one, but it’s the only one that’s right. The one man who can assist me in protecting her and help me gain her trust needs to be called. I realize the risk, but the reward—Arabella’s heart—is much fucking greater.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I order Maxwell in when he answers on the first ring.
“Office. Now,” I bark, irritated that I have to do this.
Not even a minute later, he’s standing in front of my desk, questioning me for the first time ever. “Sir, you know they could be tailing him and that you are at risk of being taken out as well. He won’t care that you kept her alive.”
“Don’t question me. Give me his number.” With one last look of doubt, he finally concedes and does a few things on his phone. Then he turns the cell to me, and I see the digits needed. Typing them into a burner phone I pull from my desk, I wait for the ringing.
“Who is this?” the man answers roughly, and I turn my chair.
I look out over the courtyard and up the length of the tower where my principessa is locked away, angry and hating me more than she did when I put her in my car.
“I know where your daughter is. Meet me in the alleyway next to her apartment at 4:00 p.m. sharp. No henchmen. If you have one when I get there, I will make sure you never see her again.”
He curses through the phone, but I hang up.
This will be the deadliest game I’ve played yet.
* * *
....
* * *
My black Maserati pulls up to the curb next to the alleyway I stole Arabella from at exactly four on the dot. I see her father in an SUV across the street, and he eyes my car a moment or two before he steps out. He wears an all-black suit, down to his button-up shirt. I look around, taking in my surroundings to make sure he is alone and doesn’t have anyone ready to attack or follow us. I unlock the car, and he slips in, making sure I see his weapon attached to his belt. He’s not the only one packing.
“Who the hell are you, and where is my daughter?” he seethes. I lock the door and speed away from the curb, checking the mirrors to make sure I’m not being followed.
“I said, where is my—”
I turn and stare him dead in the eye, my look silencing him.
“DeLuca?”
He recognizes me. Hell, he’s used my services many times before, so I would’ve been surprised if he didn’t know me the moment he saw me.
“Marcello,” I say back, heading onto the highway toward my fortress.
“What the hell do you know about my daughter?” he questions, looking over his shoulder to the back seat—hoping to see her there, I’m sure.
“She’s safe. I’m taking you to her.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
I don’t answer yet, still watching the cars behind me and checking for patterns or followers.
“DeLuca! How do you know where my daughter is?”
“I was hired. By the man you forced her to fucking marry. He hired me to kill her,” I growl, wanting to make sure he feels that fucking burn.
“What? How? Why? Goddamn it!” He slams a fist on the dashboard.
“He told me she had information and planned to sabotage The Ruin and everyone involved. Myself included. I didn’t ask questions.”
“You didn’t know she was my daughter?”
“No, not until I did my own digging and learned her maiden name.”
“So you kept her alive?” He seems a bit calmer, and I put a stop to his relief in an instant.
“Not for you. For me.”
He scoffs. “You want to hold her ransom from me? You must be stupid to think you could do that to me.”
I give him an evil grin. “No, I did it because your daughter is mine now, and I want to make her mine for good. The only way I can do that is to ensure her happiness.”
“You’re out of your goddamn mind,” he barks.
“Am I? Because I believe I'm here because you married her off to a monster. A man who wanted her dead because of another woman and to keep the peace.” He gulps, and that shuts him up enough for him to reassess.
“What did he tell you?” he asks me a few moments later.
“I told you.”
“What did he ask you to do?”
I grip the steering wheel. The question even upsetting me.
“He wanted me to make it look like a suicide,” I mumble, trying not to get riled up again. Marcello is finally calm enough and I don't need to rile him up again. “When I told him the job was done but that there was no body, he slipped up and mentioned him being with someone else.”
