Page 50 of Isle of Seduction

NEVER GET CAUGHT

I’m fuming.

You should never get caught.

And fucking especially for something you didn’t do. My dad would be so fucking disappointed. I’m almost glad he’s not here to witness this. I hope I’m out of here before my mother hears about it. She doesn’t need the heartache; she’s been through enough.

Of course, that bastard Addams would pin this on me. With Mia being Giulia’s ex, I’d have a motive. And with the—founded—rumours surrounding me being in the mafia, I’m a fucking treat on a silver platter.

If there is one thing I know about Addams is how much this election means to him. We are very much alike on that front. He ran for Council last time and lost. He’s always been evolving in the high spheres of power and wants to grab it for himself. The network this election would give him is too big an opportunity to pass. What he’d do with it remains to be seen. And since losing the pre-elections polls last week, he’s been more aggressive in his speeches.

Bitterness tastes foul in my mouth until it’s replaced by the tang of copper. I bit my lip with how tight I clenched my lips shut to avoid insulting an officer of the law and making matters worse.

The Chief of police himself came to my home to pick me up. There’s no love lost between us, but I thought he and I had an understanding.

He reads me my rights and tightens the cuffs around my wrists, but I don’t give him shit.

“You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention now something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

“You can’t do this!” Giulia complains behind us.

It’s no use.

If Taylor himself is making the arrest, they must have evidence. Or a kernel of it, at least. The only thing that pops into my mind is that I left my ride in the middle of the fucking cornfield when Giulia sabotaged it, weeks ago. My precious bike was left unattended until I asked Nico to toll it and bring it to our garage for repair. It must have been hours. Enough time for anyone trying to pin shit on me to get my hand prints, maybe hairs.

“Sweetheart, listen to me. Call Nico and get our solicitor on this. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, Capaldi. You’re going away for a long time for this,” Taylor replies, and there’s a tinge of regret behind his words.

I don’t resist as he drags me to the police car parked on my manicured lawn. The muddy tire marks make my jaw tick and my teeth grind. Before sitting down, I turn to Taylor. “Come on, you know I didn’t do jack shit.”

He speaks in a hushed tone, quickly glancing at the officers standing by the second car on our right. I don’t know them. They look like rookies, which means they’re not on my payroll. “Tell that to your handprints on the victim, Capaldi.”

He’s giving me clues. Good.

I know what my solicitor needs to look into. Taylor’s taking a huge risk sharing that information with me outside of the legal proceedings.

Giulia follows all the way down to the car where the two officers are ready to pull out their firearms despite me being in cuffs and my wife in her little sleep shorts and now muddied white sneakers. The fact that they can see what belongs to me so blatantly adds insult to injury. I turn a murderous gaze to them and one shifts uncomfortably under the harsh light of the car’s front beams.

The other officer doesn’t bother, pushing it to giving me a little smirk I’ll wipe off his face with his own fists when I’m out of my shackles. He pisses me off, and he knows it, trying to provoke me into assaulting an agent of the law.

“Keep looking at me and I’ll be the one to gouge your eyes out with a rusted spoon,” Giulia spits before her hands frame my face. Taylor admonishes her, but she gives him the middle finger and I hear him sputter, shocked into silence.

That’s my girl. She could be in trouble for that, but she doesn’t give a shit.

“Listen to me, guerrieritta. Call DeRossi and look into the handprints. And that jackass,” I add. She knows who I’m talking about by the glare she sends his way. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already.

“I’ll get you out. Trust me.”

Her lips descend on mine in a punishing kiss that steals the breath from my lungs. I don’t fucking need it if I have her taste on my tongue.

It’s the first time she’s initiated anything between us and my skin tingles at the knowledge that she’s finally mine, but then I remember we have an audience of pigs for a moment that means everything to me.

My hands are tied behind my back. All I want is to lift them to her face and touch her. Any minute, any hour we spend apart will be too fucking long. She runs her hands to my shoulders, my upper arms, pressing our foreheads together, connecting us like we haven’t before.

“I trust you,” I whisper against her mouth, and she kisses me again, frantically.

I can count people I trust on one hand. My brother. My mother. And now the most exquisite creature I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.

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