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I pressed my lips together. She was smart, very smart.
“I don’t want to see you again, Antonio, ever. And I’m not going to tell my father a damn thing.” She took a step closer to me and pressed her face up to mine. “So your whole plan, it didn’t work because my father’s not even going to know.”
“So you don’t care that your father’s a murderer?” I said softly, gazing into her eyes.
“I don’t believe you,” she said.
“Why would I lie?” I growled, anger taking over my entire body.
“Because you lied to me about everything from the moment I met you. Fuck, you even had people I knew lying to me before we even met. I don’t trust you, Antonio Marchesi.” She shook her head. “Yeah, maybe I thought I liked you and maybe I thought you were someone better, but I was wrong. I don’t want to see you again. Now take me home.”
“You owe me a dinner,” I said.
“Why do you care if I go to this dinner with fucking Tommasso and whoever his daughter is?”
“Because,” I said, “I care.” I didn’t know how to explain it to her. I just wasn’t ready for her to leave my company just yet. I needed her to give me another chance. Because she was right; if she didn’t tell her dad anything, it would all be for naught. And while I hadn’t invested much money, time, or energy, this was my only plan. This was the only way I was going to make him pay. I mean, I could squeeze him in his wallet, which I’d already done, but he didn’t care about money. The only thing he cared about was Callie. “Little lamb, please don’t—”
“Don’t call me that,” she said. “I’m not a little lamb.”
“What are you then, Callie?” I said, reaching out and touching the bottom of her hair.
“I’m a lioness, Antonio. Listen to me roar.”
We stared at each other for a couple of seconds, and I could see that the girl I had met was gone. She’d transformed. Something in Callie had changed, and that made me regretful. She didn’t look at me with that spark of trust and intrigue anymore. She looked at me with anger and hostility. I felt something twisting in my gut. I didn’t want to see that look on her face. I wanted to see hope. I wanted to see belief that I was someone worthy of her. Even if I knew it wasn’t true.
3
Callie
“I hate him for himself, but despise him for the memories he revives.” —Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë
“So, was any of it real?” I could hear my voice trembling as I stared at Antonio. I was pissed off at myself for caring about his answer and annoyed that I’d fallen for his lies in the first place. It shouldn’t matter what he said in response to that question, because I knew I couldn’t believe it, and yet I still wanted to hear that some part of this had been real.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, little lamb,” he said, stepping toward me, his brown eyes hard as he stared at me.
“So, none of it was real, then.” I stepped back and away from him.
He took a deep breath, then ran his fingers through his silky locks. Hair that I’d just been playing with hours before. It was weird how things could change in an instant. Twelve hours ago, my life had been nothing short of a miracle. I’d been flying high, happy, feeling comforted and cocooned in the warmth of his arms, and now I felt cold, distant, and bereft of all emotion.
“I don’t want you to think that this was personal, Callie.”
“But how could it not be personal, Antonio?” I cut him off. “You lied to me. You lured me into your web of deceit just so you could hurt me.”
“It wasn’t to hurt you. It was…”
“It was to hurt me because you knew that by hurting me, you’d hurt my father.”
He nodded. “That is true.” He let out a deep sigh. “What can I say? Sometimes, the thirst for revenge makes you—”
“Oh, shut up,” I said. “I don’t want to hear anything else you have to say. I would like to just gather my things and then leave.”
He nodded slowly. “Fine. I’ll escort you back to my bedroom and…”
“I don’t want to go back to your bedroom. Just get my stuff and bring it to me. I’ll meet you downstairs or something.”
“Callie,” he said softly, his hand reaching up to touch the side of my face.
I could see that he was thinking, processing what to say next.
