We continue the rest of the drive in silence until we come to a private beach property neighborhood as he pulls up to a gate. He enters in a code and drives through as the gates open up. Driving all the way to the end we stop at the last beach house. Even though I can't see all of its beauty, I admire the style of the house. He turns the car off and climbs out making his way to my side to open the door for me. Helping me out he places his hand on the small of my back as he leads me forward. He opens the door, gesturing for me to go inside. Pausing briefly I do as he silently asks and walk past the threshold.
I look around and see a very beautiful modern style home. The flooring is laid with dark hardwood, off to the right is a sunken living room adorned with pristine white furniture. A couch faces the wall with a fireplace and mantle in front of it. To the side of the couch is a set of open sliding doors that stretch the entire east wall. It looks as if it opens to an enclosed private beach area. It's beautiful and I'm taken aback that this hard, dark man would live anywhere so light and serene.
"Do you actually live here?" I say still looking out at the beach and ocean.
"I own it." He states and ponders, "and I stay here from time to time on business trips. So yes, I do sometimes live here." Taking one last look at the beautiful view I turn to look at the interesting man behind me. He must have poured us a drink because he now has two glasses in his hands, one of wine and the other a dark amber liquor. He hands me the wine glass and steps down into the living room, sitting down on the couch. Taking a sip of his drink, he watches me.
"So what happens now?" My voice trembles as I voice the question burning inside of me.
7
NICOLI
She looks at me with a mixture of curiosity and a hint of fear. Her fear comes in waves at a time. Sometimes it's so strong I can practically smell it emitting from her, other times she lets her repressed anger and pain surface pushing her through the fear that she feels for me. I chuckle in my head, she hides it behind that attitude and smartass mouth.
"Isn't it obvious." I shift forward bracing my elbows upon my knees. "I have said you were mine, and you are. You belong to me. From the moment I met you, you didn’t have a choice in the matter. I had left one of my men behind to keep watch over you. Making sure that prick Dario didn't lay a hand on you in retribution as well as your father. Because I wouldn't have hesitated to kill him had he left another bruise or mark on you." I give her a pointed look and she stills. "Yes sweetheart, I knew it was your father."
Reluctant to admit it at first, she finally speaks up. "Then why did you let him get away with it?" She sounded angry.
Hmm, I didn't expect anger. "The first time with your lip was just a suspicion, that is partially why I came back a week later to see if my assumption was correct. That is also why I shot him."
"You shot him because he hit me.” She says it as more of a statement than a question, to herself. “But you said you were there for business. So you lied," she accuses.
Shaking my head. "I did have a business deal with your father. Though usually, my men follow up on it. I decided to make the trip myself to check in on you. As I expected my suspicions were correct. When I saw your wrist covered in bruises, I knew it was him." My jaw clenches with irritation thinking about it. Wishing I had just put a bullet in his head like I wanted to the moment he walked into that kitchen.
"And yet you allowed someone else to take the fall for it." She accuses angrily. I get up off the couch and stalk toward her. Feeling my patience start to wear at this conversation.
Once I'm close enough to brush her shoulder with my chest I lean forward dropping my voice to a malicious tone. "Sweetheart, let's get one thing straight, I do not care who paid the price, who took the fall. I am not a good man nor do I claim to be one. I have tortured and killed and I don't lose any sleep over it, I have committed more sins than I can count. I told you I was going to make an example out of someone. Who it was didn't matter. I got my point across. I mentioned before that if anyone touched you I would kill them. That wasn’t an empty threat." Straightening my stance, I walk past her and up the stairs. Needing to walk away from her before I lose the control that I have barely been able to contain since coming back here. I leave her there as my words sink in.
Reaching the second landing I head down the hallway into the master bedroom. Walking into the spacious closet I grab one of my plain white tee and some sweats out of the drawers, slamming it back shut. You need to calm the fuck down. I internally growl at myself, realizing my anger is only continuing to rise.
Thinking
