Chapter 57

ZEKE

She hates me. She would’ve killed me where I stood if she had the chance.

She’s said it before, but this time, she meant it. I would have known that without her saying it.

“Do you want to tell me what the hell that was all about?” the boss bellows. “You mean you let her run around and fuck random boys at that school? What the fuck did I hire you for? You knew I needed her pure. I told you so, explicitly.”

She could’ve thrown me under the bus, which is exactly where I deserve to be. She left me out of it, no matter how much she didn’t want to. I hate that the way she spared me gives me hope.

But there’s no guarantee she won’t eventually spill the truth if he pushes her hard enough.

“She’s lying,” I mutter, staring at the open door. I can just imagine her up there, screaming into a pillow, sobbing in the middle of her bedroom floor. If it wasn’t for her father, I would’ve followed her. I would have fought to make her see the truth somehow. I wasn’t plotting against her.

But dammit, I didn’t do a single thing to help either. It’s practically the same thing.

“She’s lying? And you know that how?”

Once again, I’m reminded of the similarities between father and daughter. He sounds just like she does when she’s indignant, and demanding. To think, he didn’t raise her, either. Nature versus nurture. Thank you, Intro to Psychology.

I turn slowly, willing myself to keep it together until he lets me go. “I know it because she hasn’t been out of my sight. Because every time the front door opened or closed, I received an alert telling me so. She never snuck out. She was never alone with a boy, ever.”

This is dangerous territory. Eventually, he’s going to come to the natural conclusion that I was the one fucking her. Unless I can convince him otherwise.

“Then why would she say that?” He slams the side of his fist against his desk. “Where would she come up with that?”

“She’s upset,” I remind him as quietly and evenly as possible. “Just like we knew she would be. That’s why I

recommended she find out about the engagement before the family gets here, remember? This is exactly the kind of reaction I expected.” Fuck me, how am I still standing here? Pretending I’m on his side, talking about her like she’s nobody. The way he does. It’s the only way to get through to him, sure, but it makes me sick, the way I have to coddle him.

It’s enough to bring his face back to a somewhat normal color anyway. There was a moment there I was afraid he would have a stroke on the spot. Still, his fists are clenched, his breathing erratic. “So you’re saying she said it to get back at me?”

“Why else? She was throwing a tantrum.” Forgive me, Mia. I have to say something to convince him.

“Yeah. She’s pretty good at that.” He runs a hand over the top of his head, blowing out a huge sigh. “Well, she won’t be my problem much longer. Rinaldi can handle her from here on out. I only hope he has the stomach for it.” And that’s it. That’s all he cares about. Not how Rinaldi will treat her. He doesn’t care if her husband is understanding or abusive—though I have no doubt he’d rage and scream and throw things across the room if she ever showed up at the house with a black eye. It wouldn’t make a difference. Nothing to upset the alliance between the two families.

“You know, sir, if I may.” He lifts a shoulder, still cooling off. “With all due respect, she’s worth a lot more than you give her credit for.”

He snorts, but the sound cuts off when he realizes I’m not kidding. “What do you mean?”

“For one thing, she’s probably heartbroken knowing she won’t be able to go to school anymore. She takes her work seriously. Straight A’s in all classes. She was proud of that, and she wanted you to be proud.”

“What the hell do I care? I didn’t go to college, and I turned out just fine.”

“Understood, but still. She had plans of her own, and you never gave her any idea of your plans. You blindsided her. And don’t forget, before you found her, she was used to taking care of herself. Her and her mom.”

He stabs a finger in my direction. “I took her out of the gutter, in case you forgot. Did she? Because I can put her right back there again if that’s how she’d rather have it.”

“She’s independent,” I murmur, hoping to calm him down. “I’m sure she inherited that headstrong attitude from you.” I don’t even know what I’m doing. I’ve never so much as breathed anything that sounds like a disagreement with anything he has to say. There’s never been any reason to disagree with him. He’s the boss, I followed orders. End of story.

She changed everything. Including me, who I am. I see that now.

“So what you’re saying is, I should’ve asked her opinion? We both know where that would have gotten me. She’s impossible.”

“I know. But she’s also smart. She has a mind of her own. Going from making her own decisions to being told who she will marry and when. All this time, she had no idea you were even thinking about arranging a marriage…” All I can do is shrug and hope he doesn’t blow my brains out on the spot. Frankly, I wouldn’t care if he did at this point. What the hell good is anything if I don’t have her? I’d rather take my last breath right now than watch her being forced to marry a man all because of his last name and his connections.

“I’m not about to apologize. I didn’t lose my balls, you know.”

“Nobody expects that. But maybe, if you approach her with a little more empathy, you’ll get a lot further. She only wants to feel like you’re listening to her.”

He returns to the bar cart, chuckling wryly. “How did you get so smart about this shit? Were you paying attention during class?”

“Yes,” I admit, struggling to suppress the need to knock him on his smug ass. “But that’s not all. It’s living with her. I had to learn how her mind works so I could anticipate her reactions.”

He’s quiet for a moment, pouring himself a drink, not looking at me. And at that moment, I think, is this it? Is this where he finally realizes the mistake he made sending me to Blackthorn Elite with his only daughter?

“Since you know her so much better than I do,” he murmurs before replacing the bottle of bourbon, “what happens next? I can’t have her blurting out shit like that tonight at dinner, that’s for sure. We have a few hours to get her to come around and agree to behave herself.”

Right, because no matter what, nothing will stop his arrangements. He used the word contract, and that’s not a word that gets thrown around carelessly in our world. Agreements have been made. Expectations have been set. I highly doubt the Rinaldis would be understanding if they found out the bride-to-be got cold feet.

“I’ll go and talk to her,” I suggest. “Maybe I can get her to come back downstairs.”

He snickers, looking at me like he wouldn’t want to be in my shoes for anything. “Didn’t she just say she hates you?”

“She’s said it at least once a day the past four months.” His laughter is like nails on a chalkboard. How can he sound like that? Not only did his daughter find out her father is the head of a major crime family, but she then learned he sold her to a stranger. And he can laugh. Now I do wish he had never found her. I hate to think of her struggling, but the alternative is so much worse.

“Go ahead. We have to try something, I guess. Keep in mind, time is of the essence.” I give him a quick nod before leaving the room as quickly as I dare. I don’t want to break out into a full run and look too suspicious.

What am I supposed to say? There’s nothing I can say, and that’s the truth. Nothing she’ll want to hear.

Except for one thing: we have to get out of here.

It’s clear, finally. So obvious, I don’t know why I ever thought differently. There’s no way of getting her out of this except for physically extracting her from the situation. Hiding her. I have money; I can stash her somewhere. Nobody ever needs to know.

Sure, she’ll spend the rest of her life on the run, but what’s the alternative? I shudder to think. There’s no guarantee her husband wouldn’t make every minute of her life agony. And what are the chances of him making her happy? If he was raised by a man anywhere near as calculating as Bruno Morelli, I wouldn’t put money on Eric being a gentleman. Or even giving a shit about Mia beyond how she looks, how tight she is, and how many healthy babies she can give him.

As if I would let that happen. I was the world’s biggest asshole to ever think otherwise.

“Mia.” I bang on the door with the side of my fist—I wouldn’t want anybody overhearing me being quiet or gentle. “Open the door. We need to talk about this.”

I didn’t expect an answer. Everything on the other side of the door is silent. Maybe she’s in the bathroom.

Immediately, my mind goes to a dark, ugly place. She wouldn’t, would she? She’s too smart for that. But if the alternative was being forced into marriage with a stranger —after finding out where her father’s money comes from in the first place? Anything’s possible.

I grab the keys from my pocket and shuffle through them until I find the one for her bedroom door. I’ve never had to use it until now. “Mia, tell me you’re smarter than this,” I mutter as I jam the key into the lock. I throw open the door and go straight for the en suite bathroom, hoping against hope.

It’s empty. I check the shower, even the linen closet. She’s not in here. I let out a shuddering breath, grateful for that at least.

But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t done something else. Something equally drastic.

The first clue that she has is the absence of personal items. The vanity drawer is open and most of its contents are removed. Nothing in the shower, nothing in the sink. I saw her bathroom back at the condo enough to know this isn’t how she does things. She would have immediately spread out and gotten comfortable, especially knowing she had an event to get ready for tonight.

The hair on the back of my neck rises as I step back into her bedroom. The closet door is open, and a couple of the dresser drawers. Empty. There’s a pair of socks on the floor, and some underwear strewn over the bed.

Like she was in a hurry.

“You wouldn’t,” I whisper, shaking my head, but the evidence is all around me. “Not alone. You wouldn’t do this.”

When I spot her computer on the desk, it’s like a gleam of hope. She wouldn’t leave that behind. She’s practically tethered to it. Then again, if she was running away, she might be afraid of being tracked. I’m sure the fear of tracking kept her from doing a lot of things.

Like finding out who her father is…

Who the hell put it in her head in the first place? Where did she find that information? I know she’s been curious, but why now? What brought this on?

I flip open the laptop and use her password to unlock it. Principles are out the window at this point. It’s not an invasion of privacy when all I want is to understand, to make sure she’s safe. The first step is finding out what made her look up the family.

She was automatically logged out of her school email account after being inactive, but the login screen is up. She’d flay me alive if she knew I had that password, too.

She got an email today from Dean, that asshole. Is that what this is about? I growl at the sight of his name, noticing she’s read the message. I click on it, and there it is —links to articles, pictures, file after file.

He did this. He gathered a bunch of shit about the Morelli family. I should’ve taken care of him when I had the

—

Wait.

I take a closer look, squinting at the screen. That can’t be right. I must be seeing things.

I’m not. It’s here in front of me. It was there all along. I never saw it. I never thought to look.

And now, everything makes sense. He didn’t send her these files to seduce her or brainwash her into running away with him. Something a lot more sinister is at play.

My sins have finally caught up with me—but Mia is the one in danger of being punished for them.