Page 38 of Twisted Fate

I’m about to say that I didn’t look at his texts or call log, that I only tried to call Markus, but that would be a lie. I did look.

“I wasn’t looking for anything. It isn’t like that. But…does my brother…does he work for you…?” My voice trails away as I look into his eyes. They’re dark and flat and emotionless.

Gone is the man who kissed me, touched me, made me scream his name. Who shared his thoughts with me and let me see a little of who he really is. Now Damian is a cold stranger, his expression unreadable.

He turns from me and walks into the bedroom. I stand there, my arms wrapped around myself, uncertain why I feel like I let him down. That is some warped and twisted shit. He’s the one holding me prisoner, denying me access to the rest of the world, denying me access to my brother.

He comes back out of the bedroom, fully dressed.

“You’re pissed off because I tried to call my brother?” I’m angry now. Furious. “What would you do if someone was holding you prisoner, holding you as collateral for a debt? Because that’s what I am. I’m your prisoner.” I fan my arm in front of me. “This is my prison. I can’t leave. I can’t call anyone. I’m just here for you to come by and fuck. If the tables were turned, would you just take that lying down? Or would you grab an opportunity if it presented itself?” My anger fizzles, leaving sadness in its wake. “I just wanted to check on my brother,” I finish, my voice soft.

“What were you looking for, Alina? Information? Contacts?” he asks, as if he didn’t hear a word I fucking said. “Who do you work for?”

“Work for—?” I shake my head. “I wasn’t looking for anything. I was trying to call my brother.”

“There is nothing on my phone for you to find, but had you found something, were you going to pass it on to Enzo?”

“Enzo? I don’t know where he is. I have no way to reach him. And even if I did, he would be the very last person on earth I would contact.”

He quirks one dark brow. “And I should believe you, why?”

“Because it’s the fucking truth!” I yell.

But I’m yelling at his back because he’s already opening the front door, leaving. He closes it softly behind him. I think it would have been easier if he’d slammed it, if I’d warranted his anger. But apparently Damian Russo doesn’t think I’m worth even that.

And why the hell does that hurt so much?

15

Alina

I wake up angry and hurt. To keep myself busy, I clean the condo from top to bottom, wash all the towels and linens, and run the dishwasher. I even wash the outdoor furniture on the balconies. Luca keeps telling me it isn’t my responsibility, but I need to do something. Finally, he just shrugs, goes back to reading and lets me have at it.

The next day, I’m still angry and hurt. But I want to talk to Damian, to sit down like two adults. I guess he isn’t on the same page because I don’t hear from him, let alone see him. Bored and restless, I open the front door. Vito sits on a folding chair in the foyer between the door and the elevator.

He gets up and asks, “Do you want me to take you somewhere?” He actually looks hopeful. He has to be even more bored than I am.

“No, thanks. Just checking. You, um, want some coffee?”

“Sure. Black, thanks,” he says.

So I get him his coffee and close the door. A few minutes later, someone knocks. I open the door to find Joe.

“You got any more coffee?” he asks.

“Sure. How do you like it?”

“Black, thanks,” he says.

So I get him his coffee and close the door.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock. I open the door to find both Vito and Joe standing there.

“You, uh, wanna play poker?” Vito asks, looking hopeful.

“I don’t have any money,” I say. “To bet,” I clarify when they both just stare at me.

“You got any cookies? Crackers?” Joe asks.

---