Page 119 of His Dark Demands
“That’s your call,boss.”
“Don’t be an emotional pussy. If you need help guardingmy girls, just fucking tell me.” I was so over this damn phone call. Paolo may be right about having Roman deal with Courtney, but he didn’t know Isla as I did. She needed time to process. If I swooped in while she was furious with me, it would only make matters worse.
“We’ll be fine but if you’re unsure, ask Fabio to send a couple of men.”
“Okay, I trust you.” A weird twinge made me rub the spot over my heart as the words left my lips. “I want hourly updates.”
“Will do.” He ended the call.
Finding out I had a daughter, and the recent drama with Courtney was taking a toll on me. It wasn’t often that I felt out of control, but right now, genuine fear pulsed through my veins. The fear of losing Isla and my baby would be my undoing.
My woman had better come to her senses in the next couple of days or I’d take matters into my own hands, and I was confident she wouldn’t like the demands I made.
The meetingwith my investors had been uneventful. I could’ve left it to Roman to handle, but I just couldn’t give up control. Or that was the lie I told myself, when really, I stayed in Canada out of fear of rejection.
After the drama and incriminating photos, and the fact that Isla had heard Courtney, I was confident she would never speak to me again.
I was in my office, rocking in my leather executive chair, on the brink of losing my mind. If Isla refused to hear meout, how would she know the truth? There I was finally ready to let her in, really in, and now this happened.
Or maybe I was lying to myself about being ready.
Part of me, the five-year-old part who’d witnessed my mother’s murder, would never be ready.
It’s always the ones we love that are taken from us.I heard Padre’s voice as he squeezed me tightly.
A decade of therapy hadn’t helped me forget his words or Mamma’s scream right before the man shot her. I remember being so confused as to why she would get out of the car. But now I knew it was because she knew the woman, Cara Clemente.
For most of my life I’d believed my mother was dead because ofme. Giovanna Remotti would be alive today if it weren’t for me begging her to take me out for lunch.
My beloved mother’s life had ended in a brief ordeal. It happened so fast. We never made it to town and I never forgot why we were out without Papà.
Wrong place at the wrong time, one therapist had told me. He was wrong. Crime families like mine were walking targets. Only, my father had been out of the country and unaware his former lover wanted Mamma dead. Alessio Remotti had failed his first wife and me.
It was fate, another therapist believed. She’d tried to explain it asevents beyond anyone’s control.But at the time, I really didn’t give a fuck what she said. I was sixteen and my father had wanted me to gethelpbefore I combusted and went on a killing spree.
My best friend, Julietta, was in a hospice. Julietta was the first girl I’d ever loved, though she had never returned my romantic feelings. All these years later, I believed she’d hiddenher true feelings from me because she knew she was going to die and wanted to protect me.
But honestly, to hear her sayI love youwould have given me comfort. Hell, she might have saved me from two decades of drinking and whoring around.
I buried my face in my hands as my thoughts returned to Isla. Why was she so damn stubborn?
Of course, none of this was Isla’s fault. I’d done this to her, to us.
Back when we were together, I had it all with Isla: love, happiness, peace. Then I pushed her away because my fear of her dying had been stronger than my love for her.
Another therapist had said,Love is the most powerful emotion.He was a quack and full of shit. Fear was the most powerful emotion. Fear was my kryptonite.
My head lifted from my hands when I heard a soft tapping on the door. I looked over my shoulder as it slowly opened.
Millie’s head popped in. “Mr. Remotti, do you have a moment?” The concerned look on her face made my stomach twist into a knot.
“Yes.” I turned away from the window as every muscle in my shoulders coiled. “Please come in. Is everything okay?”
She handed me two sheets of paper. “These are the statements from the St. Francis.” Millie chewed on her nail, nervously. What was the big deal about billing statements?
“I don’t understand.” I glanced over the documents. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Just a few charges for spa treatments, room service, and valet parking.
“Um… Well… Isla checked out two nights ago.”
