“No, darling. We—”
Don’t have a home any longer.
She risked a glance at Christian who ignored her but moved to ruffle Nico’s hair softly.
“You’re going to stay with me tonight until we figure out what’s happening next. Is that okay with you?” he asked.
Nico nodded. “Can we go back to Thomas so he can teach me checkers?”
Christian didn’t make promises but said, “We’ll see.”
“Christian—”
He shot her a warning look and she shrank away from the anger she saw there. She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked away tears but she looked away so he wouldn’t see her cry. Her pride burned but she had nowhere to go and for the time being, Christian was her sanctuary. Belleni would be looking for her tomorrow. She had to find a way out of the city before he found her.
They arrived at Christian’s loft and took the short ride to his place. He opened the door for them and they walked in.
“I can take the couch with Nico,” she said. “Do you have some blankets we could use?” She glanced down at her cream gown and grimaced. “And maybe something I could change into? I didn’t exactly have a chance to grab any clothes before we left.”
“Yeah,” he said, but his expression hadn’t softened. He went to his dresser and pulled out a pair of soft linen drawstring pants and a T-shirt for her.
“I’ll figure something out tomorrow. I promise we won’t be a burden for long,” she said, accepting the clothes.
“What’s a burden?” Nico asked, looking up at her with wide eyes.
She smoothed his brow and forced a smile. “Nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart. It’s late and everything will look better in the morning.”
She hoped.
Christian brought blankets and tossed them at her. She choked back the glare she wanted to give him and busied herself making a bed for Nico who was already yawning and struggling to stay awake.
Christian disappeared into the bathroom and she heard the water running. She sighed. She’d love a shower or a bath but that would have to wait. She had bigger problems than her need for a little quiet time.
She stroked Nico’s soft hair until he fell fast asleep. His slow, even breathing soothed her jagged nerves but not her heart. The water shut off and she couldn’t help but look toward the bathroom in the hopes of seeing Christian again, only this time with forgiveness in his eyes.
The door opened and Christian emerged, head damp, and dressed in sweats and a T-shirt. Again, he ignored her. The tiny hope she’d harbored died quickly and soundlessly. The smart thing would be to tuck herself into the blankets and allow sleep to wipe away her fear and turbulent thoughts but she couldn’t let things sit the way they were without saying her piece. She eased away from Nico so as not to wake him and then padded silently to the four-poster bed where Christian was getting ready for bed. “Do you need something?” he asked curtly.
“Yes. I need to explain.”
“Not necessary,” he disagreed, dismissing her. She took a bold move and followed him, startling him as she climbed onto the bed with him, determined to have her say. “What are you doing?”
She ignored his question. “Everything the man you knew as Frank Rocco said was true,” she started, her cheeks heating with shame. “Except there were parts he left out.”
Christian settled against the pillows, his gaze hard. “Oh? And you feel like sharing, I see.”
“You can be a jerk about this but I’m still going to tell you what happened so just shut up and give me the courtesy of at least listening. Afterward, you can do what you want.”
“I’ll do what I want regardless,” he retorted.
She ignored the dig and drew a deep breath to continue. “Frank Rocco is also known as Belleni.”
“You’re a Belleni girl?” he asked and she nodded. Of course he’d heard about the Belleni girls.
“Yes. Not by choice,” she added.
“Excuse me?”
“I have to start at the beginning otherwise it’s hard to imagine how in this day and age someone could do this to another human being and get away with it. Belleni came to me shortly after my dance career ended. I was broken inside and maybe a little reckless. I was looking for a way to dull the pain and at first, he seemed the answer. He tricked me into thinking I could simply go on dates without any sex and make a good living. He was charming and protective and just the person I thought I needed. I thought I was in love with this kind, older gentleman. Then I got pregnant and everything changed. He became obsessed with me and started using Nico as leverage. He threatened to take Nico from me and when he found I’d been stockpiling money to get away from him, he had me beaten. He owned me. I was his slave as surely as if he had shackled me. I couldn’t get out and couldn’t get away without leaving Nico behind.”
“What about your family in Iowa?” he asked.
She looked down at her fingers. “They don’t know what I’ve been doing for the past five years. They don’t even know about Nico. I was too ashamed.”
Christian’s expression wavered, as if he were having a hard time believing her yet desperately wanted to. “Why didn’t you tell me from the very beginning?”
“Tell you what? How was I supposed to tell a complete stranger that I was being held captive by a man who had more power than most politicians in this city? I’m sure that would’ve gone over well.”
“Maybe not at first but—” He stopped, frustration lacing his tone then he gestured angrily. “How about when I was baring my soul to you by the creek? You had plenty of time at that point to level with me.”
“I wanted to,” she cried softly. “I truly did but I was afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Yes, afraid. Belleni is a dangerous man. I wasn’t lying when I said the less you knew the safer you’d be. Belleni has secrets he would kill to keep safe. I couldn’t put you and Mama Jo at risk like that.”
“You didn’t even give me the chance to decide for myself if it was a risk I was willing to take,” he countered hotly.
“No, I didn’t,” she acknowledged. “But how was I supposed to know that things were going to turn out this way? My main concern was Nico. That’s it.” She blinked back tears. “I know you hate me right now. Because of me your biggest chance at opening a club is ruined. I’m not stupid. I lied to you, hell, you might even say I used you to get out of the city. But until you’ve walked a mile in my shoes don’t judge me. You haven’t a clue how much misery I’ve endured since making that one fatal mistake of trusting someone like Belleni.”
Skye wiped away the moisture tracking down her cheeks and slid off the bed.
“So what now?” he asked, stopping her. “What happens to either of us?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured regretfully. “But there’s one thing I know for sure…Belleni won’t stop until he’s made to stop. I can’t stay here. Belleni owns my apartment and has confiscated all my money. The only thing I can do is try and go home. As for you, I’d say give it time, find a different venture capitalist but I’d be giving you false hope. He will set out to ruin you now. I’m sorry.”
His expression fell and she could imagine the true weight of his decision was finally settling in and it was heavier than he imagined.
For that, and so much more, she was sorry.
Damn her, she was still sore at him. She wandered, drink in hand, to where the knife stuck rigidly and pulled it free. A faint look of disgust for the damage marked her face, but she refrained from commenting, which was just as well. Belleni wasn’t in the mood to be chastised.
“Tomorrow, I want you to find out where he lives. Take two men and teach him how things work in this town. Then, call our contact in the city building inspections and ensure that no permit with his name on it ever gets cleared. I want to ruin him,” Belleni said vehemently, closing his eyes against the rage that continued to simmer just beneath the surface. “I want him to return to me begging for a crumb from my table. And I want Skye brought home at all costs.”
Vivian remained quiet as she returned to the bar. “You need to relax,” she advised. “Your blood pressure is surely going through the roof. The doctor said you need to be mindful of your stress levels.” He grunted something but he nodded. She was right, ranting and raving did nothing but foster sloppy thinking. He noticed with faint appreciation that Vivian was making him a drink. She smiled and put it into his hand. “Your favorite,” she said simply.
He sighed and leaned back in the chair before shooting the rich, silky brown liquid down his throat, enjoying the smooth burn and the lingering aftertaste that coated his tongue. “Vivian, you are too good to me,” he said at last, giving her an appreciative smile.
“I know,” she acknowledged and he chuckled. “Another?”
He lifted his glass. “You know me well.”
“That I do.”
She refilled his glass and settled in the stiff-backed chair to his right. She was still a striking woman, he noted, fighting a sudden and pervasive fatigue. Cement weighted his eyelids and he struggled as his vision blurred. “Something…wrong…” he gasped, reaching out to Vivian for her help but she merely smiled. “Vivian…help me…”
“But I am, darling,” she said with a patronizing tilt of her head. He stared in disbelief and she settled more comfortably in her chair as if to wait. And he knew.
“You’ve p-poisoned me?” She remained silent but her clear, chilly gaze answered loudly enough. “Why?” he demanded, his voice weakening as quickly as his body.
At that she leaned forward, her eyes flashing with all the banked fury she held inside and spat, “Because you had the audacity to think you could be rid of me so easily. As if the years between us simply evaporated because you got a sudden whim to play house. I have tolerated a lot but this—” she sank against the chair, her fingernail tapping the linen tablecloth “—was simply too much. How dare you throw me to the curb,
from my home,
like day-old garbage!” She took a moment to collect herself and then continued with a shrug. “I’ll admit my first plan was to kill Skye and Nico but I realized they weren’t the true problem…you were. Even if they weren’t here, they would be in your heart and there would be nothing I could do to stop it. And I am nothing, if not efficient, wouldn’t you say? I am rooting out the problem—you.”
He struggled against the lethargy that was stealing his strength and sapping his mental clarity. “I take it back, you can live here as long as you like,” he promised with a slight slur. Black dots danced at the edges of his vision. “I love you, darling, I always have. There is no one who can ever replace you!” he exclaimed in desperation.
“I know.” She placed her hand on her chest in a gentle motion. “And there is no one who will ever replace you in my heart. I will remember our time fondly.” She rose and pressed a sweet kiss to his slack lips before walking away.
The last image Belleni ever saw was Vivian’s slim backside as she left him behind to die—alone.
Hell, who was he kidding? It was more than a twinge. It hurt like hell. His chest felt caved in, as though someone’s foot was lodged where his heart beat.
He scrubbed the sleep from his eyes and climbed from the bed. Skye had left their blankets folded neatly, an attempt, he supposed, to minimize the trouble she left behind in some small way.
He grabbed the top blanket and brought it to his nose to inhale deeply. It smelled faintly of Skye’s shampoo. The pain in his chest increased and he dropped the blanket back to the sofa.
He ought to call Gage, clean up some of this mess but frankly, he didn’t know what to say. Gage probably didn’t want to see him right about now anyway.
How had everything turned to shit so quickly? Talk about blindsided. He needed to focus, fix one problem at a time. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed Thomas. His brother answered after the first ring. He didn’t waste time on frivolities. “I got a problem,” he stated, going right to the point.
“Yeah? What’s wrong?”
Christian took a deep breath and then spilled it all.
“What about Skye?” Thomas asked gravely. “What about her? She’s gone. For all I know she could be halfway to the cornfields of Iowa by now.” Was that bitterness in his voice? Yeah, he was fairly certain it was. “Listen, I just want to make sure she’s safe.”
“It’s not really your problem at this point,” Thomas said.
“It feels like it is. I can’t walk away until I know she’s okay. Then, she’s on her own.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” he said dully. “I’m sure.”
“You got it. I’ll call as soon as I know something,” Thomas said on a sigh. “Maybe you ought to come home for a few weeks, let things settle before you head back to the city,” he suggested.
“I can’t, I have work. But I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. I’ll be in touch. I’m here if you need anything.”
Thomas hung up and Christian went to grab some breakfast but a knock at the door caught his attention. His heart rate leaped at the hope that it might be Skye and Nico but when he opened the door and saw the woman Skye called Vivian, he stiffened and was tempted to slam the door in her face.
“May I come in?” she asked, removing her sun glasses and stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. Her gaze roved the loft and faint appreciation lit her eyes. “Not bad,” she noted with an air of disdain. “What do you want? If this is about last night, you can tell your employer my brother works for the FBI and he’s already looking into his business so he better back off. And leave Skye alone.”
Vivian smiled but it seemed more perfunctory than genuine and he didn’t know what to think of it until she rooted in her purse and pulled a thick envelope. “Give this to Skye, please,” she instructed. “Inside is the money Belleni took from her, all ten thousand dollars plus a small additional amount for her trouble. It’s all she’ll ever see from Belleni so she can forget about asking for more.”
“I doubt Skye wants anything from him,” he retorted, accepting the envelope reluctantly. He didn’t even know where Skye was, and it didn’t feel quite right to take the money. “Why don’t you give this to her yourself?”
“I have better things to do than chase after Skye. I’ve gladly washed my hands of her now that Belleni has died.”
“Died?”
“Yes. He died of a heart attack late last night, no doubt from the strain of the evening. Neither Nico nor Skye are in the will. Everything goes to me.”
“Nico is Belleni’s son, though,” Christian said.
Vivian’s gaze hardened. “There is no evidence stating as such. He is not listed on the birth certificate nor was there any formal recognition.”
“There’s always DNA.”
She seemed annoyed, exasperated by the topic of conversation when she clearly wanted to move on. “Am I to understand that you are not interested in being with Skye and her brat?”
“Watch your mouth, lady,” he warned. “And that’s none of your business.”
“True,” she conceded, returning to the discussion at hand. “Give this message to Skye—this is all she’ll ever get from the estate. Don’t come looking for more,” she repeated in warning. Christian had never seen a more cold, calculating person than the one standing before him. And just like that, her mood changed to one more pleasant as she said, “There is one more thing…if you’re still interested in opening the nightclub, I might be interested in stepping in as the new silent partner. I’ve always wanted to own my own club.” She handed him her card. “Call me if you’re interested.”
“Listen, I don’t know where to find Skye. It wouldn’t be right—”
“Keep the money, burn it, give it to her, I don’t really care. The burden of Skye D’Lane is no longer my concern. I never want to see her or her brat ever again. Are we clear, Mr. Holt?”
Vivian didn’t wait for an answer. She opened the door and let herself out. He stared at the thick envelope and fought an internal battle. He knew he had to talk to her, tell her about the money as well as share the news about Belleni but he wasn’t quite ready to do either of those things. He needed time to clear his head. Focus.
What had started out as a genuine desire to help someone get out of a bad situation had morphed into something he didn’t even recognize any longer. When he first looked at Skye all he saw was the prostitution and the sordid reality of her profession. It smacked too closely to the pain of living with the memories of his mother. But slowly, he’d started to see
her.
And that’s when things started to slip out of his control.
He could’ve kept his mouth shut and walked away with the keys to his dreams.
But that would’ve condemned Skye to a night mare.
Now he didn’t have the girl or the club.
He wanted to put his fist through the wall. What he wouldn’t do for a cord of wood to start hacking on.
The fact of the matter was he couldn’t quite see himself walking away, but then how did he reconcile the fact of her previous lifestyle and her deception? Truthfully, he could probably forgive the prostitution—with time—hell, everyone had stuff in their closets they wanted to forget. But the lies—why couldn’t she have leveled with him about her situation? He would’ve rather found out about Frank Rocco/Belleni before sitting at the man’s table—ate him, and each time he tried to move past it, it stuck in his craw.
He wanted to believe that he could’ve handled the truth. Skye hadn’t even given him the opportunity to rise to the occasion. She’d made an assumption of his reaction and that rubbed him wrong. He suppressed a groan of frustration. Everything about this situation rubbed him raw and bloody.
He grabbed his cell but didn’t dial. He held on to that phone as if it were his lifeline. He didn’t have the answers. Not yet. But he had something he had to do. He dialed her number and it went to voice mail, not that he expected anything different.
“I know you don’t want to talk to me but it’s important. I’m hoping you haven’t hitched a plane back to Iowa just yet because it’s going to take some hunting around to find you among the great corn state but I need to talk to you. I have something for you that you’re going to want. Meet me at the park today at two o’clock. I hope you’re there.”
Now, he could only follow through and hope she was there, too.