GIANNI
I wish I could say the satisfaction of claiming my woman has calmed me down, but that’s not exactly true. I know she’s mine; no one’s taking her from me.
Certainly not some sleazy piece of shit like Donovan Moroni. His last name is the only reason he’s still breathing. That and the witnesses present at the restaurant.
Still, I’ve been insulted. That kid was supposed to be here to meet my daughter, not to feel up another girl while sitting at the same table as Tatiana. Jack had better do a lot of thinking on how to make this up to me. If not, I’ll set the terms myself.
Terms he will not like much.
Our table is empty now, and our servers stand around looking guilty and confused.
“Sorry to have broken things up,” I murmur, but it’s Tatiana I’m concerned with now. Scanning the dining room, I find her sitting alone at the bar, nursing a glass of wine. Something about the way she holds herself gives off aDo Not Approachsignal, but I’m her father. That sort of shit doesn’t work on me.
She spots me in the mirror behind the rows of bottles along the wall and cuts me off before I’ve said a word. “That’s who you were going to marry me off to, huh? A real Prince Charming.”
I can’t hold back a sigh. “There was never any real chance of a marriage.”
“Of course. How could I forget? I’m a pawn.”
“You’re being a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t. How could you even give that guy the idea I would marry his son? You didn’t even ask me about it.”
“How many times do I have to explain myself, Tatiana? It would never happen. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”
“I didn’t like that Jack guy looking me up and down like some prize heifer.”
“I didn’t like it, either.”
“You didn’t stop him, though.” She stares down into her glass, biting her lip. Dressed the way she is, she could go to any club in the city at this very moment and have her choice of any man. I’d have to break their hands for touching her, of course.
Right now, she’s my little girl. Unsure of herself and lost in her feelings.
“It was business,” I remind her, gentler this time—gentler than I normally am. “Emotions can’t get involved with business.”
I catch my mistake when she lifts an eyebrow, but it’s too late. “So, you weren’t emotional back there at the table?” She arches the other eyebrow and folds her arms.
“That’s a different story.”
“Is it, though?”
“What was I supposed to do? I would have stopped him if it was you he was fondling under the table, too. You know I would have. That’s unacceptable.”
When she dips her chin, I tilt it upward with one finger until her green eyes meet mine. “He insulted you, too. If I wasn’t already planning on fucking that Moroni bastard over, I would start making my plans now.”
Her lips twitch. “I should’ve known.”
“Anyway, I haven’t forgotten you aren’t on the market, even if I am waiting for Christopher to thank me for those suits you bought him.”
It isn’t my imagination. The light leaves her eyes a split second before she pulls free, examining her wine glass and avoiding my gaze again. “I don’t know if you’ll see him anytime soon.”
“Why not?” Something about the way she says that—her flat voice, the sadness running like a river under her words—reminds me I haven’t paid her a lot of attention since she got home. I haven’t asked the important questions, and now uncertainty stirs to life in the back of my mind. “What’s going on with you two? Do I need to have a conversation with him?”
“Not everything can be fixed with a conversation.” She smirks, and there is a deep wisdom and understanding in the way she looks at me. “Not even the kind ofconversationyou would have.”
I’m wondering if I’ve kept her as far from my work as I’ve always imagined.
“What are you trying to say?” And now I’m prepared to close out the night by paying Christopher a visit to make sure he pays me back in blood. “What happened when you were gone?”
Instead of being straight with me, she wraps her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders. “Where’s Caterina?”
“Don’t change the subject.” Although, that is a good question. I didn’t expect her to take this long. “She went to the ladies’ room. Can you go check?”
“What, you mean you’re not going to storm into the girls’ bathroom? You own the place.” Still, she gets up from her stool and walks to the back while shaking her head.
She doesn’t reach the swinging door before an ear-splitting shriek slices through the air. The wailing of an alarm. Diners look up from their plates, and a few of them push out of their chairs and climb to their feet. The hostess cuts across the room, ponytail swinging, and instinct forces me to follow her.
“Someone tripped the emergency exit,” she calls out, but the siren almost swallows her voice.
Tatiana stands in the bathroom doorway, holding the door open with one hand. She grabs my sleeve as I pass. “Did you say she was in here? Because she isn’t.”
No, not this. Anything but this.
I break free of her grasp and run the rest of the way down the hall, past the empty banquet rooms, and out through the emergency exit, which empties onto a line of dumpsters and employee parking. “There!” I shout to Roger when he falls in next to me, pointing to a pair of taillights dwindling to pinpoints before they blink out. “There she is.”
I don’t know how I’m so sure, only that I am. Part of my soul is in that car, and somebody is taking it away from me. The weight of that knowledge threatens to buckle my knees.
“Dad, what’s happening?”
I spin in place to find Tatiana shivering despite the heavy humidity. Thunder rolls across the sky before the sky opens, and rain spatters the ground, adding to the sense of everything falling the fuck to pieces.
“Somebody took her.” I take one more look in the direction the car disappeared before pulling Tatiana back inside the building. “But we’re going to get her.”
“Why?” Her lips pull back from her teeth in a horrified grimace. “I don’t understand!”
“Neither do I. I’m going to need you to listen to everything I say and do what you’re told.” With one hand firmly around her arm, I direct her back to the dining room. Some heroic soul cuts the alarm, but somehow the silence is more deafening.
Roger and I exchange a look. “The tracker,” I remind him, and immediately he pulls out his phone.
“What tracker? What is happening?” Then, before I can order her outside to our car, she gasps. “Maybe it was Luciano.”
I can hardly keep up with the rush of thoughts running through my head. All my frenzied subconscious can latch onto is that name. Luciano.
“What does he have to do with this?”
“We saw him today outside the store. I didn’t think—I mean, I figured—”
“Slow down.” I take her face in my shaking hands. “Breathe. Tell me what happened.”
“He just came out of nowhere, and he looked crazy. But I kind of laughed it off because I figured he was just being a loser and trying to get her back.” Her chin quivers, her eyes welling up with tears. “That’s what he’s doing, right? He took her so that he can convince her to stay with him?”
Fucking hell, and I did not know. “She didn’t tell you?”
“Didn’t tell me what?”