“Are you planning on getting information from her?” Jase asks with genuine curiosity and before I can answer he quickly adds, “I don’t think Talvery is known for speaking business openly.”
I would commend Jase for prying, but this isn’t a matter I want him or anyone else involved in. She’s mine and mine alone in this deal. And I’ll do whatever I want with her. My brothers and everyone else can go fuck themselves where she’s concerned.
“No, I don’t think she knows anything.”
Jase walks casually around the small room. Ten feet by ten feet. That’s more than enough space. His boot brushes against the mattress and then he kicks it. There are no springs or coils in the thing. There’s nothing in here she could use as a weapon.
I made sure of that.
“Just a mattress and a chair?” he asks, still skirting around the questions he wants answered. After years of me leading us and making the decisions, he knows better than to question me, but this is fucking killing him. It’s eating him alive that he doesn’t know what I want to do with her or why I want her. And the knowledge that it’s killing him only thrills me.
“For now. I imagine she’s going to want to fight and the fewer things in here, the better.”
“And you think this is a sign that we can trust the Romanos? He gives you the girl, risking everything to get her, and you trust him to go to war? If he really has her and is willing to hand her over to you?” He’s reaching, prying still.
“We can’t trust anyone.” I make sure he holds my gaze as I add, “That truth will never change.” We only have each other. That’s how we survived, and that’s the only way we’ll continue to live.
He’s smarter than that. I imagine Jase will realize why all of this is happening before anyone else. That’s his job, to gather any and all information necessary. By any means.
“Then this is a test?” he questions. His forehead is creased, a deep line evident. He’s lucky he’s my brother and that I still feel guilty for bringing him into this. For bringing all of them deeper and deeper into my hell I’ve created.
“The Romanos want the Talverys dead and vice versa. All over a decade-old feud for territory. The Romanos need allies and the upper hand. It was only a matter of time before I agreed to war; she just happened to be the first casualty. I wanted something, and Romano is going to give it to me, so we back him and not the Talverys.”
“Casualty?” he asks to clarify if I really am going to kill her.
“You and I both know if she stays with her father, she’ll die at his side… or worse,” I say easily as I leave the cell. Jase’s footsteps echo behind me.
“Why save her?” Jase’s question echoes in my veins. Agreeing to take her is a risk I shouldn’t have taken.
“It was an impulsive decision.”
“It’s unlike you,” Jase pushes, and I have to steady my breathing to keep from telling him to fuck off. He has no idea that Aria once saved me. No one does, not even her. Whether I hate her for it, or something else, I have yet to decide.
“After this is over, what do we do with her?” Jase asks me.
Closing the steel door, I shut it tightly and pull the edge of the painting back over the barely visible slit of the frame. The door is designed to be concealed. If you didn’t know how to maneuver the painting just so to unlock the hidden seal, you’d never see a door at all.
It’s a soundproof cell no one would ever find. Impenetrable and fitted with an electronic cloak so any type of tracking is silenced. It’s Aria’s new home.
His question resonates with me as I turn my back to the cell. What am I going to do with her afterward?
“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” I reply, and the tone of my answer puts an end to his questioning.
Chapter 4
Aria
* * *
My heart will kill me before these men do. That’s all I can think as it races in my chest. I’ve never felt fear like this.
Maybe it’s a lie that I’ve never felt it before. But it’s been so long, and I don’t remember my heart pounding like it is now.
My hot breath makes me feel faint as I try to breathe steadily. My eyes open even though all I can see is darkness with the bag still wrapped around my head.
I have to be smart. As much as I’d love to fight, I have to be smart or I’ll die.
It’s impossible to be smart when you’re terrified though.
The dry lump in my throat feels scratchy as I swallow, opening my eyes to see nothing but the scant light that seeps through the burlap. I can’t make out anything but I can hear everything. My erratic heartbeat blasting in my ears, the sound of several men in the room, and the scraping of chairs across the floor. One of them is named Romano and I’m fully aware that he’s a man who hates my father. I’m in the hands of the enemy. I know I’m on a plastic tarp. I can feel the slickness beneath my fingers. It almost feels like a trash bag beneath me.