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Rather than sour my mood further in thinking of them, I push my plate aside and reach for her hand.
She glances up in surprise as I say firmly, “Come, we have business to discuss.”
As I pull her from the table, we walk along the marble lined corridor toward a staircase that spirals up at the end. I prefer to conduct my business in the open air and despite the temperature in the darkening night, this will be no exception.
We head through a heavy door that leads onto my rooftop terrace and as instructed, Tariq has made it ready. Candles burn in lanterns all around, their glass cases protecting the flickering flames against the wind. Several heaters are set up to provide warmth and fur rugs are draped across padded seats that are set around a burning fire pit. As I ordered, there is a bottle of vintage champagne nestling in an ice bucket and as I fill two glasses, I pull her down beside me.
Eliza gazes around with a stunned expression and whispers, “This is so beautiful.”
The admiration in her eyes pleases me because I designed this myself. It’s everything I wanted in a home and is the only possession I own that reflects my personality and the fact she is so appreciative of it pleases me greatly.
As she settles back in her seat, I catch sight of her reflection in the dusky light and for some reason, business is pushed aside because for the first time since I met her, something alien is stirring inside me. There is something overly familiar about Eliza Ortega, and I’m curious about that. Why do I feel as if I know this woman and why can’t I tear my eyes away?
CHAPTER8
ELIZA
I’m in shock. The minute Malik told me his plan, I became hysterical. The mood switched from passion to fear in a heartbeat, and I understand the reason for that. Firstly, I was so caught up in the moment I would have given him my most guarded possession.
My virginity.
Just imagining the consequences of that leaves me fearful for my life because from an early age it has been drummed into me that it is not mine to give. My father informed me that if I wasn’t a virgin on my wedding night, I would be slaughtered like cattle, and he would gladly perform the honor. It would be disrespectful to him and my new husband and that was a threat I never took lightly. He meant every word and yet back there, in the heat of the moment, I conveniently forgot about that.
I suppose that’s why I freaked out when he spoke about going home. I don’t have one. I never have and the last place I want to see is that prison again. The last person I want to see is my father and definitely not the woman he married.
An icy chill passes through me and it’s not due to the temperature, but I can’t allow myself to think about them because I need to be strong.
So, when Malik turns to me and says curtly, “Tell me what happened?” I raise my defenses and shake my head.
“It’s not important.”
“I disagree.”
He turns to me, and his stare could cut glass. “You have information I need and it’s obvious you are protecting someone, so listen hard and then tell me what I need to know.”
I fall silent and shrink inside the fur throw he has draped around me and wait for him to speak, because I am more than curious to discover why he needs to know where Frankie is.
“Massimo has been defeated.”
My eyes swivel in his direction as my heart starts pounding.
“He overstepped the boundaries and was taken out. His homes, businesses and livelihood has been destroyed.”
“Destroyed?”
He nods. “His homes burned to the ground and possessions seized.”
“Who did this?” I’m mildly curious because it would take an army to defeat that monster and Malik stares at me hard and whispers, “Club Mafia.”
“Club what?” I’m confused, and he points to the jagged scar above his heart. “My friends who bear this same scar. Our blood pact was created to bring him down because he had taken the one person who meant everything to us.”
My heart begins to thump as he says bitterly, “His false wife, Winter Sontauro.”
“Mrs. Delauren?” I’m surprised by that. Not that I ever met her, but I certainly knewofher, and I wonder why she is so important to this Club Mafia.
“No.”
Malik hisses. “She was never Winter Delauren. Massimo fabricated their marriage and made the world believe it was true. He kept her prisoner and forced her to be his favorite toy and the only reason she played along was out of fear for her son—Frankie.”
