Page 44 of My Merciless Don

I blinked at him trying to see into his soul, trying to sus out his motives. Unfortunately, my fortune-telling abilities were nowhere to be seen. I shrugged internally. Sometimes you just have to take a risk.

“Fine. Take me,” I said.

CHAPTER THIRTY

MARCO

Icould see Valerio in my mind's eye, skipping with joy. This was the sort of shit he loved – drama, soap opera style.

Audry was by my side in the back seat of the Bentley, sitting stiff as a board, watching the scenery pass by. I couldn't blame her. For all she knew I was taking her back to my dungeons to torture the whereabouts of my money out of her.

I couldn't help wondering why she had taken the risk of coming with me and came to the conclusion that knowing about her past must be just that important to her.

Her Achilles’ heel.

The bigger question, though, was why wasn't I trying to take advantage of it? I could have made this whole thing quid pro quo - give me my money and I'll give you your past.

Why wasn't I doing that?

I stared at her out of the corner of my eye, and my finger twitched, wanting to reach out and cover her hand, reassure her that she was safe. It was a thing of wonder to me because I had barely known her for a month, and she had somehow managed to worm her way into my affections.

My mind couldn't help dwelling on our sexual encounter.

Why did I call her Amy though?

I'm not one for psychoanalysis, but the fact of her resemblance to Amy had me interrogating my reasons for everything. Did I feel guilty about Amy’s death and was therefore using Audry to assuage that guilt by helping her? Or did I feel guilty about being attracted to Audry and that's why I called her Amy when we had sex? Could both be true?

And most importantly, how the fuck did I get out of this fix?

“This isn't the way to the mansion,” she said as if continuing a conversation we'd been having.

“No, it isn't.”

“So, you're not taking me back to your dungeon?”

I flicked a glance at her, bemused that we were having the same thoughts. “Nope,” I said.

“Ok then, so where are you taking me?”

“Patience pays, my dear.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Does it though?”

I snorted. “My mother assures me that it does.”

She gave me a side eye. “All due respect to her, your mother is wrong.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Blasphemy.”

For a moment she smiled, before looking wistful, and then she sighed. “I always wondered how that felt - to have a female figure in your life who you could swear on. Who you just knew would protect you with everything she had, and whose word was law, because you chose to make it so.”

I blinked at her, surprised that she would be so candid. I opened my mouth but could find nothing to say. I took a deep breath and nodded. “That's a good description of a mother.”

“Some mothers. Mine threw me away.”

I couldn't help it, I had to reach out for her hand and squeeze it. She pulled her hand out of mine. “You don't have to pity me. I grew up fine.”

Now that was a lie if I ever heard one, but I wasn't about to call her out for it. Instead, I took a deep breath and nodded before turning to stare out of the window. My hand remained on the seat between us, in case she changed her mind about taking the comfort I was offering. Otherwise, I would leave her to her pride. I understood that sometimes that was all a person had.

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