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He grins. “I’ve noticed how you tense up whenever Dario speaks about her. You’re possessive already, aren’t you?”
I ignore the question. There’s no way in hell I’m getting into this. I know exactly what that woman is doing to me, and I can feel the possessiveness rearing its ugly head.
“I gotta go,” I say. “Let me know what happens with the suppliers.” If they can find someone who’ll set the shit up, it’ll mean more men, more money, more power.
He gives me a chin lift. “You should find out her story,fratello. Find out how a woman survives that shit.”
I pin him with a glare. “You’ve never been on board with this plan.”
His jaw tightens. “We don’t rape women, Elio.”
I never once fucking said I would. I never would do that. Christ, I may fucking hate the woman, but I would never stoop so low as to fucking rape her.
“We’re done,” I say through clenched teeth, pissed that my own brother would think that I would.
I climb into my car, my mood dark and my anger palpable. I need answers from Teagan, and I need them now.
EIGHT
TEAGAN
I’m beyond overwhelmed. Everything has drastically changed in the space of hours. I went from living on the streets to living in luxury. I also have an overbearing man on my hands. He hates me. I wish he’d realize that I’m not the enemy. Had he given me the chance, I would have told him how much I hated my father. How much I despise that I’m his daughter. Had I had the chance, I would have changed my name so I wouldn’t be a Mitchell.
I’ve managed to put all the clothes away, still in awe at the amount he bought for me. He went overboard to say the least. My mind is spinning. I have no idea what the hell is going on. One minute he’s angry and glowering at me, and the next he’s being sweet and watching me intently. It’s crazy how he’s making me doubt everything I’m thinking and feeling.
Before Elio, I never felt a connection with anyone, but when he looks at me, I feel as though I’m the only person in the world.
I’ve never felt attraction. The abuse and trauma I went through has made me repress everything that I felt, and now that I’m free—or as free as I can be—I’m able to feel that connection and I hate it. I know what it means to have it, and I don’t want it. He could break me. He could shatter me. I never wanted anyone to have the opportunities to do that. I kept myself blocked off from it all and wanted to go through life without that pain.
I stare at the walls of the bedroom, and it’s as though they’re closing in on me. I can’t breathe. I feel as though I’m falling back into that space. That vacant, numb space I was in while at the clubhouse. I can feel the cold slipping into my body and closing me off.
I need to breathe. I need to get out of here. I slip on the running shoes, then grab the key card for the apartment and my stash of cash that I hid last night. My breathing is hard as I step into the elevator, my hands clammy. God, I don’t know what happened. Why am I going back to this space? I worked damn hard to get out of it, to free myself from the shackles and to be who I was destined to be, and with just a few hours, a man can send me back there.
I hate it. I fucking hate that all it takes is a few words, angry looks, and threats, and I’m slipping back into my nightmare.
I claw at my throat as the elevator makes its descent to the first floor. The second the doors open, I stumble out of them and rush toward the door. I need air.
When I’m outside, I place my hands against my knees and suck in some much-needed oxygen. I’m shaking. I can’t believe that I’m back here. Tears fall down my face, and I swipe them away.
No. I’m not doing this. I’m not breaking. I will not allow anyone to break me. I've survived so much to be here, and I won’t fall. I brush away the tears and lift my head. I hold it high as I walk out of the gate to the complex. I’m damn proud of how far I have come, and I will not crumble.
My hands are trembling, but I ignore it and keep on walking. I don’t know how far I walk, but I don’t stop until I reach a diner. I’m hungry and I need some food.
I take a seat in the small mom and pop diner and look over the menu. Everything looks amazing. I work out what I can get for the twenty bucks I have, including tip, and settle on a cappuccino and sticky buns.
The bell dings above the door and two men walk in, both of whom are wearing dark suits. They remind me of the way Elio and his brother dress. They also have that dangerous air about them. I continue to drink my coffee and eat my bun as the men take a seat in the booth in front of me.
“Are you sure about going after the boss?” the tall, dark man says as he raises his hand to get the attention of the server, his flashy Rolex showing as he does. I also catch sight of his gold signet ring, one that has a gold G in the middle of the black onyx setting.
The short, heavier set man nods. “Yes, it’s the only way. What the hell do you think is going to happen if we allow this shit to continue? Letting our boss be so entwined with those fuckers.”
“I agree,” the tall guy says. “But we’re talking about offing the boss, Ugo. It’s not that easy. Anyone finds out that we’re the ones to do it, they’re going to come after us. We’ll be dead before sunrise.”
“His brothers will kill us without hesitation. But I’d rather have them lead us. Hell, even Niccolò would be a better solution than what we have now.”
I try to ignore them. They seem like men who have no worries about being overheard, but they’re plotting a murder. How stupid do you have to be to say it out loud in a busy diner?
I finish up my bun and down my coffee. I need to get out of here. The last thing I need is to be involved in this crap. I learned a lot of things while on the streets, and one of them was stay the hell out of business that doesn’t involve you, and this certainly doesn’t.
