“That bastard. I'm going to kill him.” Reaching into his inner coat pocket, he takes out his phone.
I stop him before he can make a call. “No, we need to come up with a plan to make sure we are steps ahead of him. He has people who will tell him you're coming, and then he’ll be gone.”
“Does she know about this?”
I wait and debate how to answer this. After a moment, I sigh in frustration. “No, she doesn’t. That’s why I’m bringing you to her. You seem to be the only man she can trust, so I want as many people in her corner as possible.”
He nods without a word. Exiting the highway, I make my way toward my secluded property.
“Can she trust you?” I finally ask, because last time she trusted her father, she married the devil himself.
“Yes. How dare you question m—”
“I will question anyone when it comes to Arabella’s safety. Don’t ever think you are above that law just because of your status in our world.” I give him another look, and this time, he actually looks afraid. Men like Marcello have no fear, but I will make sure he feels it when it comes to his daughter.
“Did you hurt her before you found out who she was?”
I think about that question. Physically, no, but with her last words to me, I definitely caused her emotional pain.
“No,” I respond, because I know that’s what Marcello means. He clearly never gave a fuck about her emotions before.
“Good. Get me to my baby girl. Please.” Right when he says this, I turn off onto the unpaved road that leads to the gate of my home. I see the light on in our tower, and instantly a vise grips my heart. God, I just want to get to the part where I come home to her in that room and she’s actually happy to see me.
“I see why you charge so much,” he remarks on behalf of the castle-like home and the top-notch security.
“When you’re in the business of death, you have to spend extra to keep yourself alive,” I tell him, pulling up to the house. We climb out at the same time, and Maxwell opens the front door, ushering us in.
“Sir,” he greets me.
“Bring her to my office,” I tell him, leading us toward it. I cleaned it up after I called her father, knowing this is where we would conduct the meeting.
We don’t need to exchange any more words. Instead, I have him take a seat on the couch, and I take my place at my desk. One ankle resting atop my opposite knee and my chin resting on two of my fingers, I wait as patiently as I can. It takes a few minutes, but finally we hear her and Maxwell approach, and the door opens. He sees her before I do, and when she realizes he’s there, she runs in.
“Daddy!” she cries out for him, meeting him halfway and falling into his arms. I don’t move, just observe, my jealousy somehow still spiked and the ache to make her mine ever present.
“My princess, are you all right?”
She steps back and sniffles as he moves her hair from her face. She looks him over before she searches the room for me. Our eyes meet, and I sit up straight, not saying a word. There is some glimmer in her eye that I can’t place.
“How… how did you find me?” she questions.
“DeLuca called me. He told me everything.”
“And you didn’t kill him?” she asks.
I’m shocked the question doesn’t come out with disappointment in her tone, but more like relief.
“No, Arabella, I didn’t. But you need to sit, because we need to tell you something.” Her eyes come to me, filled with worry yet surprisingly asking for approval. I give her a nod but don’t move from my spot. It’s taking everything in me not to react, or to go to her, or to be the one telling her this. It has to be done this way. It must.
“What’s going on, Daddy?”
“DeLuca was hired to kill you.” He doesn’t even attempt to sugarcoat it. Her eyes go wide, and she looks to me, then to him and back again.
“What? Why? By… by who?”
My heart starts to squeeze, the hand she has around it beginning to tighten. This shit is going to hurt her.
“Ferro.” His name is like poison to me. It seems to echo throughout the room, long and taunting.
“No. You’re lying. Why would he do that? I mean, I know we’re not a happy couple, but I always obeyed,” she cries.
That word. Obeyed. She’s feeling betrayed and hurt, and I have to sit here and not do a damn thing until she asks me to. If it were up to me, my hands would be covered in her betrayer’s blood.