AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Or I could easily run a background check on you to find out everything.”
My head tips up at that. He’s telling me without stating it that he’s powerful enough to figure out whatever he wants about me.
I take another sip of wine. “Does that mean you haven’t already?”
“It wouldn’t make a difference to you whether I have or not.”
“Of course it would.”
“No, it wouldn’t. It makes a difference to me because I would acquire information. You, however, have nothing to lose or gain.”
“I have everything to lose with you.”
He taps his forefinger against the table, lips twitching, but like the other time, he doesn’t smile. “You’re smart enough to recognize that. Continue being smart and answer my question.”
“Morelli.” I stab my fork into the salad and bring it to my mouth, chewing with aggressiveness.
“Lia Morelli. Were you born in the States or in Italy?”
“Italy.”
“Both parents Italian?”
“Mom was American. Dad was Italian.”
“Both dead?”
“Yes,” I snap, gulping what remains in the glass in one go. “Is your questioning over?”
“That’s one.” He takes a leisurely sip of his wine.
“One?”
“One strike. I told you not to speak to me in that tone.”
“What tone should I speak in then? Is there a fucking manual on how to talk to amurderer?” I hiss the last word under my breath.
“Two. And while there’s no manual, you ought to use that clever head of yours and not provoke me.”
I snatch the bottle and pour until the glass almost overflows. Some surrounding tables gawk at my lack of manners, but I’m past the point of caring. I’m fuming, and the more he probes about my past, the faster the wounds I’ve kept hidden sting, ripping at the stitches so I’ll set them free.
“How did your parents die?” he asks ever so languidly, obviously not reading my mood. Or maybe he asks in spite of it.
He’s probably taking pleasure in this.
Sighing, I say, “An accident.”
“What type of accident?”
“Gas asphyxiation.” The words leave my throat in a pained whisper. My fingers tremble around the wine glass as I bring it to my lips. I don’t want to think about that time, but my demons swirl from the background, wrapping their tentacles tightly around my throat.
“Breathe, Lia.” A hand flattens against mine, pulling it and the glass down to rest on the table.
That’s when I realize I’m balling my other hand and moisture is stinging my lids.
I stare at him, at the eternal calm that’s in his eyes despite the chaos he’s inflicted with merely a few questions. “Why are you doing this?”
“To get to know you.”
