Page 82 of Fractured
Isabella wants to read by the pool today, and the sculpture I ordered is en route. Anna won’t be on hand to set it up. So, he’s wondering if Isabella can handle it for him. I just text a simple yes, I don’t want to discuss her.
Another one of my dumb ideas to make her happy. I haven’t bothered to check the camera feeds ever since last night. I don’t want to look at her face. Every time I think of checking the feed, those green eyes make my stomach turn. I click off my phone and put it in my pocket.
We get to the airport, we unload, and I climb up the stairs, sit down in my seat, and buckle myself in. Janice asks if we wanted anything and after the last couple of days, I think I’m due for a whiskey. I’m not going to get hammered, but I definitely could use a drink.
Carlos comes and sits beside me, straps himself in and stares out the window and says nothing. I think he’s waiting for me to say something, talk about Isabella, but I really don’t know what to say.
I spent a good part of the flight answering my emails and texts. I’m setting up dinner for tonight. My father texts back and says that Christopher’s men have arrived and will join us this evening. We’re about ten minutes away from landing and my stomach knots. I thought if I came home, I would feel better. I don’t.
Carlos comes and sits in his seat across from me and puts on his seat belt. After an hour of silence between us, he finally got up and played video games in the lounge area.
“Are you ready for this?”
I rub my face with my hands. “No, not exactly.”
“It could go either way, Alex. Just be ready for both. The ride is just starting.”
We land, and the car is waiting at the bottom of the stairs. I grab my duffle bag out of the overhead compartment and trot down the steps, opening the back door and getting in. Carlos takes the keys from the chauffeur, gets in the driver’s seat, and takes off. It’s about a half-hour drive to the house. The closer we get, the more anxious I feel.
We arrive, and I see that my father’s car is already in the driveway and Sebastian’s car is parked off to the side of it. The boys have already beaten me home. I get out and Carlos comes over and grabs the bags.
“I’ll take care of these. Just head in. I’ll meet you in the dining room.”
I nod my head and trot up the stairs, opening the front door. I can’t help it. I look up the stairway to her room. She’s one flightaway from me. I could go in there and demand answers, but I know I’ll lose my temper again, so I head straight to the dining room.
I open the door to find my father sitting in my seat at the head of the table. Sebastian’s on his right, and my chair is open on the left. Christopher and his men haven’t arrived yet; Danny is sitting a few feet down. I pull out my chair, undo my suit jacket, and sit down.
My father looks at me, “How was your flight?”
I grab that coffee carafe in front of me and pour myself a cup.
“Long. I don’t understand why Angelo had to have a bank in California. Especially when he lived here. According to his cousin, he wanted to make sure that this information was protected. She says to say hi to you and Mom and that you had a lot of fun when you were kids.” I wink and smile at him over my cup.
My father covers his grin with his finger and looks at the table.
“Yes, we did.”
Sebastian pipes up and says Christopher just texted he’ll be here in 5 minutes. I ordered a light meal for us. It’s not much, but it’s something to eat while we chat and I’m starving. A knock on the dining-room door gets my attention and Sasha pokes her head in.
“Sir?”
I look around the table and excuse myself. “I’ll be right back.” Standing up, I go to the door and step outside into the hall with her.
“What can I do for you, Sasha?”
“I just wanted to inform you I took soup and tea to her room and left it on the table by the door. I’ll hang around untilDanny’s done his meeting and then my shift ends.”
What the hell? I didn’t say starve her. “Soup and tea? Why is she drinking only soup and tea?”
Sasha’s face goes red, and she puts her hands behind her back, widening her legs in a defensive stance. “She sustained some damage to her throat and cannot speak or swallow very well. So, for the next week, it’s clear liquids and easy to swallow foods.”
I close my eyes, rub my forehead with my hand, and put my other hand on my hip. In a matter of a split second, every emotion hits me all at once. I feel like an asshole, but she pissed me off so badly I saw red and did what I do best.Lash out. She’s plotting with her father to destroy us, and I’m down here feeling like the biggest dick on the planet because I put bruises on her throat.
“Thank you, Sasha. This might run late, all things depending. I’d appreciate it if you would check on her in an hour or so.”
“Yes, sir.” She turns and leaves, and I go back into the dining room, closing the door. My father watches me as I approach the table.
“Is everything alright, son?”
