Grieved Loss (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 3)

He looked thoughtful for a moment, before the cold blaze in his blue eyes softened again. “I don’t want to scare you, Tesoro. I’ve told you I won’t hurt you, and I mean it. But my life isn’t the kind where I can just casually date you until you get used to being around me. My life is all or nothing.”

“Then let me choose nothing,” I hissed, pressing my hands against his chest. I both wanted and didn’t want to touch him. I felt at odds with myself when presented with that striking face of his leaning closer to me as he spoke every word.

“That is not an option. I left you alone when you were married. Let you have your illusion of a picture-perfect life, and then I gave you time to grieve before I took what is mine. Most men in my position would not have been nearly as generous.”

“Most men in your position?” I asked, and even I knew the words sounded tormented as they left my mouth. The old warehouse in the middle of nowhere, the fence, the security booth. Everything about the situation screamed that I was in over my head, that I’d walked into something I had zero chance of controlling no matter how desperately I tried to grasp the frayed edges of my life.

He let out a slow breath, seeming to debate something in his head before he dropped his forehead to rest against mine. “I’m not a good man. All you need to know for now is that there is nobody in this city who would dare to take you away from me.” I stilled beneath him, staring up into his intense gaze as horror filled me. “The cost of helping you would be far too great for anyone.” He vaulted up, holding out a hand to help me stand from the couch. I ignored it, standing on my own and making for the door. “Where are you going, Tesoro?” he asked with a sigh.

I didn’t answer, hope surging inside me when he didn’t interfere. I made it to the door, had my hand on the knob before his own came crashing down on it. I spun, glaring up at him and shoving him back.

Well, trying to shove him back, anyway. The man didn’t move, just grabbed my hands in his and p

inned them to his chest. Dragging me over to the kitchen table, he groaned dramatically before he picked up a piece of paper off the counter. When he handed them to me, I stared in horror at the zero where my account balance had been. There was no mistaking the glaringly obvious account number in the corner or the name of the bank where I’d stored all my savings. “What is this?”

“I’ve transferred your money into my account for safekeeping for the time being. When I feel it’s secure, we can talk about you having access to them, but until then you should know that you have no money. No house. If you think to leave me, I’ll target your dad’s shop,” he said, his voice cool and calculated as he delivered the crushing blow.

“Target it?” I whispered as my ears rang. This couldn’t be happening, not to me. Not to us.

“Do you think his reputation would survive if he was found to be selling cars loaded with drugs? Could his good name save him from the law when they came knocking? I don’t think so, not with me funding the prosecution.”

“They know him. They knew Chad. They know my father would never—”

“But you’re forgetting one very important detail, Sunshine. I own the police. There is nothing they can do to save your father from the frame job that they’ll help me accomplish, not without going against me. Remember that detail, if you think to turn to Jason for help. I own his boss, and I’ll destroy him if he tries to come between me and my woman.”

The paper in my hands dropped to the table as they trembled, and I turned hate-filled wide eyes up to his. “How could you do this? I’m a person. Doesn’t what I want matter to you?”

His hand lifted to cup my face, his thumb stroking over the spot on my cheekbone he’d touched all those years ago. The memory should have felt nostalgic, and it probably would have in any other circumstances. Back then, I’d thought him some kind of knight in shining armor for helping me when no one else did, for taking pity on a woman struggling with her two-year-old and alone in the park.

But in this moment it was only horrific.

“What you want means everything to me, Tesoro. One day, you’ll look back and see that I’ve only done what I have to do so we can settle into our lives quickly and painlessly.”

I huffed a breath as tears stung my eyes. He studied them, looking pained right along with me. “How is this painless?”

“I won’t ever hurt you, Calla,” he whispered, his voice cracking as if he was on the verge of breaking right alongside me. The hint of humanity was enough, just enough, to push me to appeal to it.

“You already are,” I said on a ragged sob. “This is hurting me.”

His jaw clenched, and he drew his hand away from me to step back and give me a hint of space. I looked at him hopefully, thinking for maybe just one moment that he’d listened. That he’d heard me and known I meant every word.

His hand went to his back pocket, fishing out a cell phone. He hefted it in his hand and stared at it, before his eyes came back to me. Whatever hint of kindness I’d thought I’d seen was gone, replaced by a steely determination that filled me with apprehension. “We can either go pick up the kids together, or I can have Axel pulled from school. I’ll go pick him up from my man that’s waiting outside, without you, and he can sit in the car wondering what the fuck is going on until you terrify him when he gets home. I don’t want to go this route, Calla. The ugly way is so unnecessary and the result will be the same.”

“They won’t release him to you if you’re not on his list of approved guardians,” I returned, the wobble in my voice shocking even me. Ryker turned to the table, picking up another paper and handing it to me.

“Those are all the donations I’ve made to the school in the last six months. The new gymnasium they’re building over the summer will be the Fiore Gymnasium. Surely you’ve heard of that project?” I felt my face go cold with the realization that I recognized the name from their newsletter they sent home the month before. “Make your choice.”

I shook my head from side to side, refusing to believe him. Even with the striking number of zeros next to his donations, they wouldn’t play games with my son’s safety. I had to believe that. But when he sighed and dialed a number on his phone, his finger tapped the speakerphone so I could listen to the ringtone. Every single one felt like a strike to my chest, making my heart skip a beat.

“Peterson School for the Gifted. Please hold,” the woman’s voice on the other end of the line said. My body flinched, unable to deny that he had in fact dialed Axel’s school when presented with such a blatant fact.

“No! Okay, I understand,” I panicked, forcing the words out along with any of the remaining air in my lungs. “I understand,” I repeated. “Please don’t scare him.”

Ryker pushed the end call button on the phone, tucking it back into his pocket as he took my arm in his grip. The paper with his donations on it fluttered to the floor as he guided me toward the front door.

We stepped through it, and he didn’t bother locking it behind him. When I looked toward the gate, I found a man sitting in the guard booth.

Evidently Ryker only sent him away when they wanted to lure unsuspecting women inside.