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“Are you a monster, Alessandro?”
I could tell he was thinking about his answer. It came in one word.
“Yes.”
CHAPTER11
Alessandro
Monsters.
When I was a kid, I’d believed in boogeymen who lived in the shadows and under the short sweep of closed doors. After I was a teenager, I realized they existed in men who held power, but instead of clawing their victims to death, they used a more satisfying method of ending someone’s life.
A gun.
Sometimes a knife.
In my world, the bloodier the better.
I’d never questioned my position or my future, expecting a rise to the throne by the time I was thirty, which I’d achieved. Wealth had surrounded me from the first time I could remember, finances never an argument held between my parents. None of us wanted for anything. That’s how I assumed that it was perfectly acceptable to take what I wanted without reservation.
Being around Sierra had me questioning every aspect of my life. She’d gotten me thinking about what made me happy. I’d concluded I was a joyless man, destined to feed off the anger furrowing inside of me for the rest of my life. Maybe that was how it always played itself out. Loneliness in exchange for owning real estate, cars, businesses, yachts, and even women.
A bitter laugh escaped my throat. So, yeah, I was a monster after all.
I could have anything I wanted at my fingertips within hours. But I couldn’t have the one thing I longed for desperately.
Love.
It wasn’t allowed. Not in my world. Even my parents had endured an arranged marriage, acting as if that was the norm. It had been that way during my grandfather’s reign while he was still in Spain and with all my relatives before him.
I hadn’t lied to her. In fact, I hadn’t allowed myself to give her false hope or promises.
I’d always been a man who appreciated integrity, even though every aspect of business, including the legitimate ones, had become successful based on less than honest methods. There was really no reason to tell her anything, supplying answers to her dozens of questions.
But I wanted to. A part of me wanted to provide Sierra with a reason to trust me.
And for the life of me, I didn’t know why.
By all rights, I should shatter her world into a million pieces, demanding she supply every scrap of information locked away inside that big brain of hers.
Yet I didn’t want her to suffer.
A laugh formed in my gut as I headed downstairs, returning to the kitchen. I grabbed the bottle of scotch, pouring a hefty amount as I continued to think about her. I wasn’t surprised my cock continued to ache, longing to thrust inside of her for a second time tonight. Perhaps I would. I threw back the glass, contemplating what the hell I wanted to do from here. Her doe eyes continued to haunt me, pushing the realm of possibility that she’d been kept in a vacuum at the forefront of my mind.
However, I’d learned a long time ago that women were the best at both hiding their feelings as well as lying their asses off. After my lengthy interrogation, I’d determine my final course of action. Whatever the outcome, keeping her as my captive provided a series of complications I’d ignored in my mind.
My family for one. They wouldn’t understand or approve of my methods of locating Tristen. While I cared to a point, my main concern was that once my enemies got wind of her existence, she would become a weakness that would be used against me. And worse? She could become a casualty.
“Christ,” I muttered, swirling the liquid as I shook my head. When the hell had I ever given a damn what my family thought about my actions? Not since I was a kid. Had the woman singlehandedly shoved the concept of a conscience into the hidden parts of my soul? I hissed and tried to shove the idea aside.
Then a vision of her face floated into the forefront of my mind. This was getting ridiculous.
The sound of my phone irritated the hell out of me. I’d left explicit instructions not to bother me for a few days unless there was an emergency. I couldn’t fathom what the hell could have occurred in the three days since my departure.
Matteo’s number popped up on the screen. Exhaling, I took my time answering. “This had better be good.”
“Sorry, boss. We have an issue,” Matteo said, his voice gruff.
