"Grinder. I'm texting you a picture. We need to find this asshole." He paced, darting a look in my direction then rubbing his brow. "And I need to know more about the contract on Francesca's life. Rattle every fuckin' cage you can. I want information. And I want Saltori."
Ending the call, he continued to pace, cursing under his breath.
"Contract? Are you going to talk to me, explain?" I'd been stunned by his words, shaken to the very core. Now I was numb. "I don't understand." He'd refused to talk to me until we were safely locked behind closed doors. He stood at the window, staring out at the pool, as if none of this should bother me. Just another freaking day at the office. I almost laughed at the concept.
He'd learned there was a contract. He'd hunted me in the middle of a freaking forest. He'd spanked me. Fucked me. Spoken words as close to love as I'd ever heard.
Now... silence.
Damn the man, stoic in all manners. I wanted nothing more than to shake him, screaming at him for keeping me in the dark. He obviously hadn't explained the truth of what was going on. Everything must have escalated. Hell, maybe he didn't even know anything and was just guessing. Was it a way to keep me under lock and key? How was I supposed to cope with utter silence?
"Michael," I attempted.
No answer.
I wasn't entirely certain he was going to talk to me at all. Exasperated, I sat down, staring at the glass of wine in front of me, the one he'd ceremoniously poured as if alcohol would calm my fears. My stomach was churning, not only from the news but from the vehemence of his emotions.
His desire.
His dark needs.
The hard fucking had been wonderful. Amazing. I couldn't help brushing my fingers across my lips. Every kiss was more intense than the one before. Every time he shoved his cock inside my pussy or my ass, the action was brutal, desperate with longing. He was a man dying of thirst, in need of a fix.
I was his drug.
And he was mine.
He wasn't blinking, was barely breathing. "I can't stand this. I can't. What contract? What are you talking about?" I heard the desperate exasperation in my voice. I was chilled to the bone, my fingers tingling from numbness. I knew exactly what he was talking about, but I needed to hear the ugly details from him. I deserved it. No, I should demand he talk to me. As if that would break the ice that had formed around his emotions.
And his blackened soul.
"On. Your. Life."
"Why?" I managed, struggling to even mutter the single word. Why would someone want me dead? What had I done in my life to deserve this? I heard the sound of my father's voice inside my head, the basic warning he'd given me since the very day I could comprehend the meaning.
"You are a special girl and there are many who will shower you with gifts, trinkets of worth, even promises of love and honor. Never believe them. Never trust anyone but your family. They are scavengers willing to sell their souls to the devil in order to wallow in power. They will use you, my beautiful Francesca. Then they will abandon you."
I shuddered from the realization that my father had been correct. One single time I'd allowed my guard to fall. One time I'd believed in the breath of passion, my lust consuming me to the point I lost my self-worth. And everything had been a lie.
I refused to allow that to happen again.
Michael shook his head, a deep sigh rolling from his gut. "I don't know. That is the truth. Maybe you should tell me."
"Are you accusing me of something?" What the hell was he getting at?
He simply looked at me. That damn sexy clenched jaw. Eyes that bore into me with extreme heat. I bit back a groan, forced to look away or he'd capture me in his spell once again.
"Vincenzo?" My skin was clammy, my entire body shaking. I threw out the name, unsure if the pompous asshole selected for my hand even had the intelligence. "Why bother marrying someone he didn't give a shit about just to put out a contract on me?"
"I'm certain there are many reasons for the possibility. Granted, I've never known him to get his hands dirty but then again, maybe I was a fool for years. He and I were both hiding behind masks, pretending our fathers didn't have the power to alter our worlds. We were such fools." He chuckled, the sound more ominous than I wanted to admit. The shit was getting serious. "Have you read over the terms of your trust lately?"
"I..." I had to think about what my father had shown me. A single page. "Not all of it."
"Maybe there's something buried inside that you weren't supposed to see, a reason for blackmail, extortion. I can only imagine."
"I don't get this. Does my father know?" I tried to visualize what I had seen. My father had been particularly cagey about the details, but I'd trusted him. Maybe I shouldn't have. What was my father caught up in? Could I dare share my fears with Michael?
"If I were to guess, I'd say your father is being coerced into something, but I doubt he knows about the contract on your life." He gave me another hard, cold look. "At least one would hope."
"My father isn't that kind of man. I'm his only child, for God's sake."
"And what kind of man is he, Francesca? Do you even know him any longer? You said so yourself, you've lived in the States for years."
"Just stop it! Just because you have a horrible relationship with your father doesn't mean that I do!"
He lifted a single eyebrow before nodding. "Point taken."
I let out a long and agonizing breath, feeling gutted. He watched me intently, his gorgeous eyes flashing the anger overtaking his body as I reached for my wine. I had to trust someone and as much as I hated admitting it, Michael was right. My father could have been involved in anything during the last few years. I'd even avoided some of his phone calls, preferring to pretend that I had nothing to do with the mafia. I was perhaps the biggest fool of all. "I saw something in my father for the first time in my life. Fear. My father is a very strong man. Nothing terrifies him. I don't think he had a choice in coercing me to marry Vincenzo. It's not what he said as much as how he issued the words. He was fatigued, so much older than I remembered."
"Do the Massimos have something on him? Perhaps a deal gone bad?"
"I don't think so but that's not a conversation I'd have with my father. I really did try to stay out of the lifestyle, whether you believe me or not. I just wanted a regular life. Unlike my sister."
"We can't have that, Francesca. We were born into something that can't be refused, at least not forever."
God! I wanted to scream at him for continuing to use my name like it provided more emphasis, some additional level of truth.
The quiet was terrible, biting. My skin was crawling.