Page 8 of Loathe Me (Touch of Death 1)
“They aren’t stupid. If I’m near her, you’ll be implicated.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “But arguably, you work for hire. It’s plausible deniability on my part.”
Damn it, I can’t say no, and the look on his face says he knows I won’t. “Brief me.”
A slow smile works over his lips, reminding me why I prefer dealing with Una. The Italian is far too good at manipulation. I think he could persuade someone to shoot themselves if he so wished.
He’s manipulated me into a position I really do not want to be in.
4
Adelina
The cold chills every inch of my body, but I don’t care. It numbs me and makes me feel alive, all at once. The whoosh of mother nature is occasionally interrupted by the echo of a car’s horn in the streets far below. My fingers wrap around the glass edge of the balcony. There’s something invigorating about the perception that I could step right out into an endless sky. I wish I could.
Gabriella’s words play through my mind on repeat. My father agreed to marry me. I have to wonder how I didn’t know about this. But then…maybe I did.
A memory tugs at the corners of my mind, buried and long forgotten, but there nonetheless. I close my eyes, and I’m eight years old, running through my family home with my sister.
We weren’t supposed to be in the office. Daddy would be angry if he found us. At the back of the office, there was a secret cupboard. He said if bad men ever came into the house, we were to go there and hide.
Gabi pushed the wood, and it opened, revealing the hidden hiding spot. As soon as we were inside, she slid it closed behind us. It was dark, and at only eight years old, I was convinced the monsters were waiting to get me. I heard footsteps coming down the hallway, and held my breath in case Enrique found us. Enrique and his brother Alberto had come to our house to play, but Enrique stamped on my bunny and Gabi punched him in the nose. He said he was going to kill us, so we ran. I think I was more scared of Daddy than Enrique though. Daddy would be mad because you’re supposed to be polite to guests. I didn’t want to be polite to Enrique.
“So, Eduardo, let’s talk business,” a voice said.
The office door shut. “Yes. Please. Take a seat.” Daddy’s voice was easily recognizable.
I didn’t want to be in that dark cupboard. I disn’t like it. “Gabi,” I whispered.
“Shh.”
“It’s dark.”
“Shhh.” She put her hand over my mouth. “Stop being a baby.” The tiny bit of light that crept through the crack between the wooden door highlighted her angry face, and I could see her shake her head at me.
Daddy and his friend were talking, and we were listening. Mama used to say that it’s rude to eavesdrop, but Gabi would say it’s only rude if they find out you did it. Mama said Jesus knows. I didn’t want Jesus to know I was a dirty eavesdropper. I was so focused on that thought, that I didn’t really pay attention to what my father was saying.
“Adelina.” Daddy said my name, and I froze, terrified that he knew where I was. He’s know I was a bad girl, and it would be all Gabi’s fault.
“The younger one?” his friend asked.
I waited on baited breath, convinced we’d been found out. The secret door didn’t open, and Daddy didn’t come for us.
“Yes. Gabriella will take over for me. It will be Adelina.” Daddy sounded sad, and I didn’t like it.
“Then it is done. When she is twenty-one, they will be wed. We will unite our families.”
The man…the man was Salvatore Bianchi. It’s true. It’s all true, and that stings.
“Adelina.”
I turn at the sound of my name. Nero stands in the doorway, a frown pulling at his handsome features. “Please come inside.”
Releasing the railing, I follow him. The heat inside immediately prickles my cool skin until it burns. It takes me a moment to register the man lingering next to the fireplace, but once I do, he’s all I can focus on. Nero seems dangerous, but this man is almost inhuman as if he’s one with the shadows, soaking them up like his own personal camouflage. He leans against the narrow strip of wall, arms loose at his sides, but he’s poised. Perfectly still. I can’t even make out the rise and fall of his chest. The golden hair against pale skin makes him look so…other. Almost ethereal. Icy blue eyes track me like prey, and I drop my gaze in an effort to escape their hold. I focus on his chest, noticing the way his black T-shirt strains against solid muscle. A shiver of fear skates down my spine.
