Page 187 of Dark Romeo

The chief spluttered, his cheeks turning red. “As if I’m going to make deals with a filthy scumbag criminal like?—”

“Careful, chief,” I said, “this criminal is your only hope for getting your daughter back.

We glared at each other. A battle of wills. Who would give in first? I could see the chief working through his hatred for me and weighing it up against his daughter’s life.

His shoulders slumped first, then his breath came rushing out of his mouth in an audible swoosh. “Fine, I’ll make it happen.”

Relief filled me. The truth was, I would have given up Julianna’s location without cutting a deal for myself if it came down to it. Thankfully, it didn’t come down to it. Julianna’s father really did love her.

I nodded. “Make it happen. You have until dusk tonight.”

I turned to leave but Chief Capulet grabbed my upper arm in a vice, shoving the barrel of the gun in my cheek. “Make no mistake, Tyrell, even if I can get sign-off on this deal, I don’t trust you. You breathe wrong and I’ll take you down. You fuck me over and I’ll make you wish you were never born.” He leaned in close. “And if anything happens to her, I’ll kill you myself.”

JULIANNA

____________

I lay in wait in my silent cell, dinner tray in my hands. It was made of a thin metal. The flat of the tray was flimsy but it curled around the edges to make a firm, thicker lip. If I swung it at just the right angle, at just the right spot, it might work.

At least, I hoped it would. It was the only weapon I had. The remnants of my dinner, a plastic bowl crusty with canned tomato soup and bread crumbs and an empty plastic bottle of water, sat in one corner.

My “toilet” was a wooden bucket with a lid that sat in the farthest corner. At first I was embarrassed at relieving myself in such an undignified way. It didn’t take long for my bladder to feel like it was bursting and for me to stop caring.

I’d been standing at the edge of the door, waiting, for ages. Hours, it felt like. Although I knew it was more like minutes. They always came back within the hour to pick up my meal things.

Finally I heard the footsteps of someone approaching. I heard the jingle of keys. I readied myself, lifting the tray above my head.

The door to the cold room slid open and a guard stepped in. I swung with everything I had. I smacked the base of his head with the edge of the tray. It made a dull clunk. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed to the ground.

I stared down at the guard. He was no more than a boy, really. Maybe eighteen. Nineteen at most. What the hell happened to him that he would choose a life working for the Tyrells?

I had no time to lose, no time to stand around feeling sorry for my captors.

I slid around the corner of the doorway. Right into the barrel of a gun. The second guard lifted his lip in a sneer. Past him was a thin corridor between palettes. I could see parts of a wooden building. I could smell hay and the earthy hint of livestock. I was in a barn. Likely on rural property. I probably wasn’t even in Verona anymore. My stomach dropped. How was anyone going to find me out here? The only one who would have known that I was missing was Roman.

“Back in your cage, girlie,” the guard said, “or you and me will have problems.”

I lifted my hands up. Dammit. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

ROMAN

____________

“You’re late.”

I froze at the doorway to the dining room of my father’s large mansion, where my father was seated with Abel to his right. Abel sneered at me from his seat, the one that should have been mine. A few of my father’s men stood around at various points of the room, guarding him.

“Sorry, Father.” I strode to the empty seat on my father’s left, ignoring the look he and Abel were trading. The table was laid with various plates of pasta, steamed greens glossy with melted butter, and a leg of lamb in a baking tray sitting in a thick, rich tomato and olive sauce.

“Where have you been?” my father asked.

For a second I wondered if he knew.

I shrugged as I began to fill my plate, even though I was anything but hungry. “Out.”

“Out where?”

I tried not to flinch. My father never questioned where I was. Why now?

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