Straightening my clothes, I open the door and come face to face with my father-in-law who’s opening it at the same time.
“You summoned me?”
He gives me a warning glare to keep myself in control. “Please come in and hold your tongue,” he whispers the last part.
That means Santino doesn’t know I’m a prisoner. In the corner of the room, a man standing about six three with broad shoulders in a nice suit is staring at the wedding photo of Rafael and me. He sets it down and then turns.
“Santino, I would like you to meet your sister-in-law, Giada.” Hearing his name makes my heart jump.
Our eyes meet, and I sense a shift in the room.
Chapter Three
Santino
“Thank you all for staying on this whole time. I’m grateful for all your trust and support during that dark time. I’ll be in and out today, but I ask that you keep my whereabouts a secret unless told otherwise. The threat on my life might be a possibility, so I must offer you an option. You can stay and I’ll increase your pay, or you can leave. I ask, though, that you make the choice with careful thought. I will not be giving second chances. I need to know that I can trust those in my home.”
There are four staff members: Martin, my personal assistant, my butler, Jasper, my driver, Joey, and Rita, my chef.
“You know I’m not going anywhere you aren’t, boss,” Joey says.
I knew that would be his answer. I nod and wait for the other two to respond. They look at each other and quickly back to me.
“We’re not going anywhere, sir,” Jasper and Rita say together. They’ve been married for the past twenty years and have been great employees since they came to work for me three years ago. The point of keeping them on is also to learn who talks to my enemies.
Everyone leaves my office, but Rita comes back ten minutes later to collect the plate of eggs and sausage she brought in this morning. I completely forgot about it. She huffs as she glares at the plate and then softens her expression before looking at me. “Sir, your breakfast is getting cold.”
“Sorry, I’m not hungry.” With everything going on, I don’t have an appetite. Besides, I’ve had a liquid breakfast this morning as I steel my nerves.
Rita seems put out, but I don’t have to eat if I don’t want to. I give her a look that says it’s not up for debate. Before I might have let it go, but after spending a long time having people tell me what to do, I’m not going to let them start with me now. “Very well. We need some dogs to feed the wasted food to.” She grumbles all the way out of the room.
“That sounds wonderful. Two Dobermans would be great,” I shout before she closes the door. That’s something I should have thought of doing as soon as I got out of prison.
She pops back into the room, setting the plate down again. “If you’re serious, I’ll look into it.” She smiles brightly, rubbing her hands together.
I pointedly stare at her and say, “Dead serious.”
“Okay. I’ll start looking around. Anything else in particular regarding the dogs?”
“I prefer young adult Dobermans if possible. Female or male doesn’t matter to me.” She’s grinning from ear to ear and looks giddy, as if I told her that her food was the best I’ve ever had.
“Fantastic. I’ll get on it.” She leaves the room with an air of enthusiasm that is hard to not share, but the dogs are a stark reminder that my father and brother have a debt to me that’s long overdue.
I call Joey. “Joey, prepare to depart in twenty minutes.” I end the call as soon as he says yes. I need some time alone. It’s funny that that’s all I’ve had in my cell, but instead of resenting it, I find it helps me think. Solitude is my fondest friend.
I sit back in my leather, handcrafted chair from Italy and stare into space, thinking about the time that has passed. I’m thirty years old now, having let my golden birthday pass in prison with nothing more than a happy birthday from those who feared me or kissed my ass, figuratively.
The little debate I just had with my Rita reminds me that I’m back in the free world. I don’t take orders, I give them. The world is my oyster, as they say, but I’m not looking into the distant future with plans that don’t include a whole shitload of retaliation and retribution.
I roll the glass around, swirling the amber liquid. It’s only eleven in the morning, and I’m already on my third drink. I can’t make this a habit, but I have to gain control and muscle down my hatred in order to get to the people I need to get to. I have a game plan full of strategy and time. I want my moves to be calculated and unsuspecting. There’s no way I want to be caught before my revenge is had.
I check my watch again for the third time, tossing back a long swig of cognac while staring out of my office window on the second floor of my home. I should be outside, enjoying fresh air, but despite being locked up, I had gotten sunshine and fresh air every single day. I worked my body to the bone day in and day out, getting strong and ready. Ready to send someone
