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“A year,” she snaps. “An entire year and all you get is babysitting duties?”
“Actually, this could work to our advantage. She could be our in. She hates him, you can see it in her face. I can try and get information out of her.”
“She’s not going to know anything, Nero. Come on, you know he plays his cards close to his chest. She’s a battered housewife and no fucking use to us.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Then what do you suggest I do, Cal? Tell him to fuck off, refuse to do as he’s ordered me? Then I’ll be out and it’ll all have been for nothing.” I sigh. “Look, I’ll be in the house, able to watch the comings and goings. I can listen in on conversations. Frankly, I don’t have another option.”
CHAPTER THREE
8 years earlier . . .
TESSA
“What do we do?” asks Callie, staring out over London from the apartment that apparently belongs to Dante.
“This is your fault,” I snap. “If you hadn’t arranged to meet Jase in the first place, we wouldn’t even know any of those men.”
“Are you fucking serious?” she yells. “I just watched him get shot, and you’re standing here blaming me?”
“Don’t play the victim. You didn’t seem too keen back there when he was pawing all over you.”
The door opens and we fall silent. Dante shrugs out of his jacket and throws it on the side, then he loosens his tie. “You,” he says, pointing to Callie, “come.” He crooks his finger, but Callie stays rooted to the spot. I can see the annoyance on his face and I don’t want to see him mad, so I give her a nudge and she goes to him. He gently runs his fingers through her hair, then suddenly grabs a handful and yanks her head back aggressively. “You breathe a fucking word to anyone about tonight, about Jase, about me, I’ll kill your entire family. I know your dad, I know where your mum works, and I even know your little sister goes to Clairemont Primary School. Do I make myself clear?”
She doesn’t speak, and he pulls out his mobile phone and opens it. He then shows her a picture, and she begins to cry. “That’s your sister’s bedroom, right?” She nods. “The man outside, the one who took this picture, will set that house alight if you don’t agree. So, Callie, are we on the same page?” She nods again, desperately fighting back her tears. “Good.” He shoves her away and turns his attention to Emerson. “Your dad will go to prison if you breathe a word. I have so much shit on him, he doesn’t stand a chance.”
Emerson nods. “I won’t tell a soul.” Her dad isn’t exactly squeaky clean, so she’s used to keeping secrets.
I’m trembling so hard and fighting the urge to vomit when he turns his attention to me. “Now, jailbait,” he grins, “there’s no one in your life I can threaten you with.” I shake my head, wondering what that means for me. “Follow me.” I hesitate as he marches towards a door down the passageway. “Enzo, take the other two home.”
Present day . . .
I lay in bed and count to ten. Breathe in, breathe out. It’s no good—my heart is racing, and it’s hard to ignore the way my stomach growls in hunger. “I know you’re awake,” Dante announces as he steps from the shower. “The beef was cooked to perfection,” he adds, wrapping a towel around himself. “How did you do it in that short space of time?”
I force a light smile. “I didn’t want your guests to wait,” I say. “I was thinking of them.”
He sits on the edge of the bed and tucks my hair behind my ear. I tense. “Did you use the air fryer?” I nod. “I asked for roast beef.”
I smile again. “I still roasted it. You said yourself, it was cooked to perfection.” His eyes darken in that way they always do when he’s working himself up. “You gave me an hour,” I add, trying to make him see reason, “and I didn’t want to let you down and cause embarrassment.”
He grabs my face, digging his fingers into my cheeks. “You were trying to be clever,” he hisses, and spittle lands on my face. “Always trying to be fucking clever, jailbait.”
I try to shake my head. “I wasn’t, I promise. I was doing as you asked.”
“Take yourself to the shed,” he orders.
I stare in disbelief. It’s cold out, frosty even, and as usual, I’m naked. I’m always naked when he’s home, unless he gives me permission to wear clothes, and even then, he chooses them. “No.” I don’t fight Dante, not anymore, as I always end up worse off, but I refuse to go outside in these temperatures.
“Say it again,” he whispers, his voice menacing.
I try to smooth my hand over his cheek. “Please, Dante, be reasonable.”
“Unreasonable would be sending you to sit in the garden. I’m giving you shelter.”
“For cooking the beef to perfection?” I cry. “For doing as you asked?”
Dante stands, taking me by the arm and hauling me from the bed. I try to prise his hand from me, but it’s no good. He drags me from the room, pulling me angrily along the passageway and down the stairs.
I lose my footing as he pulls me through the kitchen, but it doesn’t slow him. He continues dragging me behind like a rag doll. Opening the back door, he pushes me out into the garden, slamming the door in my face. I bang my hands against it, yelling his name over and over. We don’t have neighbours, so no one will come to my rescue. I slide down the door and hug my knees to my chest.
