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“No, no more nightmares.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear that,” he said, as he added fruit and maple syrup to his pancakes.
After finishing our food and stacking the plates in the dishwasher, Alessio suggested a walk outside. “Come on, let’s get some fresh air.” Although his voice was relaxed, I could detect a hint of steeliness behind his words.
I followed him out the door into the gardens. He didn’t hold my hand today. I sensed that he was keeping his distance from me this morning as if something else was preoccupying him.
We had been walking in the gardens for a while. “Have you remembered anything more about what the Bratva wanted with you and your father?” He got straight to the point and didn’t waste words.
I felt my insides clam up. “I’ve already told you everything I know. What my father does has nothing to do with me.”
ALESSIO
I felt my hackles rise at Cate’s lack of cooperation.
She hadn’t asked about her father since arriving here, so I decided to give her an update, although I hadn’t worked out yet what their relationship was like and how close they were. “After being tortured, your father needed surgery, but he hasn’t come around after the operation and he’s currently on life support.”
Cate carried on looking forward as she walked, avoiding my gaze.
“Have you remembered anything else about the Russians which could help us?”
Her lips remained resolutely shut. I could tell that she wasn’t going to give me any more information willingly.
I decided to try a more direct strategy. “Your father was double-crossing the Fratellanza. He was a traitor and he betrayed us. You owe him nothing.” My tone was harsh.
“I know that.”
“So why won’t you tell me what happened?”
“I’ve already told you what I know. I was taken in my sleep, and they took us to the warehouse where you found us. I was kept tied up while my father was tortured.”
“What did they ask your father?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t in the same room.” Her tone was clearly defensive, as was her stance, with her arms wrapped around herself as she walked.
“What about when they first took you? What did they say to your father then?” I was firing questions at her, not giving her a chance to think of a lie to tell me.
“I don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember?” I could hear my emotionless tone—this was business, and the Fratellanza was my only focus right now.
“It was… It happened really fast.”
“It’s not the sort of thing people forget—being taken in the middle of the night.”
“It’s not something I want to remember.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’ve told you everything I know. Everything’s been a bit of a blur since I fell down the steps and hit my head.”
“What were you dreaming about when you had your nightmare?”
“What?”
I grabbed her hand and pulled her to a halt, turning her to face me. I forced myself to ignore the feeling of her soft skin and focus on the task at hand. “You heard me. Answer the question.”
“It was just a nightmare. I don’t want to talk about it.”
