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“I’ll have to scare her,” I say, not liking the idea. “Explain what will happen if she ever tells anybody.”
“Lie,” Dario says, nodding.
His lip curls at the thought of actually hurting a woman. Maybe it reminds him of my dead wife, Angelica, the woman we light candles for every day.
“Yes, lie. Terrify her into silence.”
“Even then, we can’t be sure.”
“No, we can’t.”
“Maybe we should… offer her a room until she’s comfortable?”
“Kidnap her,” I grunt.
“Nobody would pay any mind if one of Rosa’s closest friends decided to stay awhile. That’s all I’m saying.”
“She must only be eighteen, nineteen,” I say. “Nineteen, I remember now. Her birthday is a couple of weeks before Rosa’s. I can’t even remember being that age.”
Dario narrows his eyes at me. “That was the year you met Angelica.”
“Was it?”
“At the pier.”
I shrug. “If you say so. I’m going to handle this.”
“Want backup?” he says with a knowing smirk.
I grin. “Yeah, brother. If I scream, that’s your cue to come save my ass.”
The second I leave the office, the smile leaves my face. After what happened, the men can’t see me joking and having a good time, even with my brother.
Walking into the house, I keep my shoulders broad and my exterior cold.
“Where is she?” I ask one of my guards.
“Basement, sir.”
That’s an entertainment room and a bedroom with an en suite. Dario’s suggestion bounces around my head as I descend the stairs.
“Everything’s going to be fine, Emma,” Rosa says, sitting on the large leather armchair.
“I just don’t get what happened,” Emma, not Emily, says.
It’s difficult to believe this is the same girl—no, woman. I remember her friend in brief flashes, the braces, the general… invisibility? I never noticed her. Now, all I can do is notice her.
She sits with her feet tucked underneath her, wearing jeans and a T-shirt that shows her figure. Her hips contour through the jeans made for grabbing and wide enough to bear children, for massaging and owning.
Her hair is brown and curly, on the longer side, tucked behind her ears. Her eyes are wide and naïve. Hell, I can imagine them staring at me as I take her hard and own her.
Ialreadyown her. I’m almost panting.
I can imagine those eyes tear-filled under the altar too, or staring down at our first child.
Teasing love enters my mind, like promising warmth in the future. I might get to be a dad again.
No, what am I thinking? This is Rosa’s best friend and a witness. She’s a woman I have to scare.
