Page 88 of Controlled

Sighing, I purposely looked away, rubbing my aching forehead. I was on information overload. I forced myself to shove aside my dark concerns. They wouldn’t do me any good at this point. I’d noticed Kane had made an appearance, doing his best to stand in the shadows watching me. Creed would say protecting me. Uh-huh. At least the soldier was on the phone, pacing back and forth and very animated by his conversation.

What was it with sexy billionaires? They believed themselves too good to watch a movie while eating popcorn and refused to take a dip in a pool? I found myself giggling from the thought as I leaned against the edge of the pool. If only the man didn’t excite me as much as he did. Maybe then I could get control of my emotions.

Was it possible to lose your mind after hearing something as horrible as what Creed had told me? I was doing my best to shove the idea of the hunt aside but what he and his brothers had gone through was truly shocking. At least he’d seemed as if a burden had been lifted by telling me what he’d been through.

I felt the same, although it would seem we were trying too hard to be normal. I hadn’t realized until meeting Creed that while I’d done my best to pretend I’d come from a loving family, I had no clue what it meant to be normal in any way. After leaving California, I’d promised myself I would easily fit in as a typical girl, a ballet dancer, eventually a wife and mother.

I hadn’t understood that I had no skills for anything other than dancing.

Until now.

Maybe Creed had seen the fucked-up girl from afar, his insightfulness pulling us together, no matter how unconventional his methods. I laughed and took the last sip of my wine.

I’d seen two more guards pacing the shoreline, but I was now peacefully alone, able to relax to some degree. I shifted to the bank of concrete stairs leading from the pool, easing my empty glass onto the table before grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my waist. I snagged the plexiglass stem, still marveling Creed had fake or cheap anything inside his house, heading to the outdoor kitchen to refill it.

Why not?

All practices were cancelled for several days because of what had happened with Jonas. That much I’d learned. Nothing else. My phone had been confiscated, and no landlines were present inside the house. I poured the glass full, barely hearing the chatter of whatever television program was on. I’d insisted on touching and turning on everything. I could live in the bathhouse, the building at least three thousand square feet complete with two bedrooms and a combined kitchen and entertainment space to die for.

Yet nothing had been broken in. Why bother having such luxuries if you didn’t use them? I took a sip of wine, wondering what business he had to attend to. I sat down on one of the barstools, quickly glancing at the television. Some talk show was on. I pressed my elbow onto the bar’s surface, resting my chin in my hand as I studied the water.

A full minute ticked by. Maybe three. At least the gorgeous late afternoon sun was adding a glow across the water. It also made it hard to see anything. Maybe the man could spring for a pair of sunglasses at some point.

I almost laughed because that sounded perfectly normal to me. Maybe I could take a little walk along the shore. That wasn’t against the rules. Right? Just before I eased off the stool, I heard a break in the news report.

And almost instantly my skin began to crawl.

“In breaking news, we’ve just learned that Jonas Carrington, the only child of the city’s prominent district attorney Sebastian Carrington was found murdered in his apartment two days ago. While there are no current leads, given Mr. Carrington’s work prosecuting several members of organized crime, the FBI has become involved.”

Murdered. He had been murdered. Why say it was suicide? Oh, God.

I turned toward the television, lifting my head to study the report. Seeing Jonas’ face brought back the horror and sadness. I pressed my hand across my mouth, tears already forming in my eyes.

“It is also worthy of noting,” the reporter continued, “that law runs in the family blood, District Attorney Carrington’s own father murdered over twenty-five years before by a man once considered the godfather of New York, Armand Marcello, who was convicted for the crime and in a surprising outcome, was sentenced to thirty years in prison. He was released a few months ago, and the FBI is currently in the process of locating his whereabouts. It is reported that he is in the process of re-establishing his position as the preeminent Don not only in New York City, but the country.” The man jabbered on about Armand’s past hold, his ruthless empire considered one of the most brutal and corrupt to ever take the reins in the Big Apple.

As a series of images were flashed across the screen, my stomach lurched, the fog I’d experienced before returning. No. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. I turned around, unable to comprehend what I’d just seen or what it could mean.

But there was no denying the man depicted on the television was the same man my mother had coveted and mourned for over two decades. I almost fell to my knees, forced to grab the edge of the bar.

My father was a crime lord? Just like Creed. There was no coincidence. Creed had sought me out for a reason. Oh, God.

I’d heard about stories like this, the children of the most powerful crime lords used as pawns, victimized and often killed. As I glanced toward the set of French doors, I was certain Kane or Christen was watching me like a hawk as they did when Creed left the room or the house.

I had to get away. I wasn’t going to be used. Why hadn’t Mother told me? Maybe she didn’t know. Maybe she couldn’t bear the realization she’d spawned a child with a real-life monster?

I moved around the pool, fighting the urge to run as much as I could. When I noticed he’d left a set of keys on the small table next to his glass of wine, I bit my lower lip, a thought coming to mind. The boats. He had a key on his ring. Wouldn’t he? Maybe.

Kane was nowhere. Where had the man gone?

A single tear slipped past my lashes, but I was finished with being anyone’s pawn. No more. No wonder my mother had basically lost her mind and her career. If anyone had found out, she would have lost everything. Wait. Maybe that’s exactly what had occurred.

Calm down. You need to calm down.

I took several deep breaths, uncertain what the best course of action would be. It didn’t make sense I would be here with Creed. Unless… He was using me to get to my… father. I had to learn. I glanced at the windows before throwing a look toward the lake. Seeing no one in either direction, I headed inside the house, taking careful steps as I moved toward Creed’s office.

As I rounded the last corner leading to the door in question, Kane walked past me only ten feet ahead of me, coming in from the outside. Sucking in my breath, I pushed myself against the wall, crowding closer very carefully.

“Did you find something?” Creed growled.

---