I scan the imposing space, trying to find Lorenzo. He’s nowhere to be seen. The two guards from the SUV have taken position by the front door. Two more join us, one at each of the hallways that run off the foyer. Aldo squeezes my hand where it’s resting on his arm. Five against one. All odds against escaping.
Still, I’m not going silently to my death. Locking my knees and steeling my spine, I refuse to move when Aldo tries to lead me down one of the halls. “Mr. Cerreti, it’s time you tell me why I’m here.”
“I told you to call me Aldo.”
“And I asked you a series of reasonable questions you’ve refused to answer. Seems like both of us are doing a bad job of following instructions.”
It’s evening, the foyer is dark, most of the light coming from the fire, but I swear I see humor flicker in Aldo’s eyes, followed by something that looks like respect. “Not afraid to push back against a bully, I see. I understand why he refuses to give you up.”
“Not afraid to admit you’re a bully, Mr. Cerreti. How self-aware of you.” I’m angry, terrified, starting to feel the walls closing in around me. It’s making me reckless. That’s the only reason I can give for baiting a bloodthirsty mob boss. I mean, if he’s going to kill me anyway there’s no point pretending I give a shit about his feelings.
Aldo’s grip on my hand tightens, his forearm hardening under my fingers. He might be an older man, but Aldo is still full of physical power. He looms over me, and, in my peripheral vision, I see his guards take a step closer. There’s a frisson of something around us. Awareness. Aggression. I half expect Aldo to attack me right here and now.
I can’t help but squeak in surprise when, instead, he tips back his head and laughs. A deep, chest-rumbling laugh that brings tears to his eyes.
“Oddio. You remind me of her. Infuriating, stubborn, and charming.” His laughter fades, his expression closed. “A lethal combination, young lady.”
With that one comment my bravado dies, my body sagging with exhaustion and defeat. Sparing with this man in the entrance of his heavily guarded home is getting me nowhere. So, when Aldo heads toward one of the hallways I sigh and fall into step.
He gives my hand a patronizing pat.Asshole.
“It won’t be long now, Mrs. Cosenza. I might be a bully, but I’m not an unreasonable man. Not all the time. I do prefer efficiency, however, so I’d rather have this conversation only once. Which means we need to wait for my nephew before I can answer your questions.”
Aldo turns us into a room that looks like an office and library. A massive desk takes up one half, a pair of leather armchairs positioned in front of it. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line the walls, only interrupted by a window behind the desk and a massive fireplace on the right. It is giving off someseriously intense heat, the flames casting shadows on the nearby sofa.
“Here, sit.” He gestures me to one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. “I’ll have someone bring up tea while we wait.”
“No tea.” I need something stronger. I spot a bar cart in the corner. “Whiskey, rocks.”
Without comment, Aldo pours my drink and hands it over. It’s a double at least. I must look like I need it.
I toss back a large gulp, my throat burning and eyes watering as the liquid lights fire through my organs. I’m not a fan of the stuff, but I relish the burn.
I keep the glass near my lips, sipping frequently to stop myself from screaming. The whole time I’m cataloguing items within reach that I can use as weapons. The fire poker is an obvious choice. Pens on the desk. The glass in my hand.
Aldo, who has taken his seat at the desk, catches me scanning the room. “Looking for something to read, Mrs. Cosenza? Or an escape?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really, no. But—” Aldo Cerreti leans forward, his elbows resting on his desk, his fingers steepled in front of him. “I find I’m curious.”
“About?”
“You, my dear. I’m very, very curious about you.”
“Why? What does it matter? Neither of us are naive enough to think it will make a difference.”
Aldo cocks an eyebrow. “A difference to what?”
“To what happens to me,” I practically shout back. “Isn’t that the whole thing with you guys? The past dictates the future, tradition defines the present, rules that must be followed, honor that must be defended, family that must be protected, at all costs. No exceptions. Not even for lo?—”
I cut myself off, trying to catch my breath. Aldo watches me,his expression neutral, giving no hint to what he’s thinking. “To outsiders our world must seem overly simplistic.”
“More like barbaric.”
Aldo relaxes in his chair, his posture calm, collected, controlled. A posture that reminds me so much of Rem it makes tears burn the back of my eyes. For the first time all night I realize that, despite Aldo’s comment that we’re waiting for his nephew, there’s no guarantee I’m ever going to see Rem again.
I could be held captive in this house forever. I could die in this house, and I’d never get to tell Rem I love him. No amount of alcohol can’t burn away the ache that’s building in my chest.