Page 37 of Frayed Bonds

My fingertips reach up and lightly brush over the scar just under my jaw. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore Antonio.”

“Fine.” He’s annoyed, I can tell from the way he huffs out his breaths for the rest of the drive until we reach my house.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.” I turn to him before getting out of the car.

“I promise.”

“Thank you-”

“But if it means keeping you safe, I won’t keep it a secret,” he interrupts me.

I nod. “Okay fair enough.” I toss him a pack of jelly beans and a soft smile takes over his face as he remembers the candy. “Consider it payment for your silence.”

Sliding out of the car, I rush up to the doorway and head inside.

I slip out the cheque and let out a gasp. I stare at the amount in disbelief wondering if Antonio had made a mistake.

Five thousand euros.

Chapter thirteen

Ambrose

My knees crack as I stretch them in preparation for my run. God, it reminds me of my father’s knees whenever he’d squat down to pick something up or when he would stand up after sitting for a long period.

Thirty-two with the knees of a sixty year old apparently, I chuckle to myself but the humour is cut short when Antonio storms in through the front door and nearly smashes my face with the door.

“Woah, watch it,” I snap.

He spins on his heels, his emotions clear on his face simply by the way his brows are furrowed and the slight pout on his lips.

“You wanna go on a run?” I offer.

He looks out the front door, then focuses on me again. “In the rain?”

“Yeah, rain is good for the soul.” It seems overly dramatic but something about having the rain falling on your skin makes you feel at one with nature. That, and no one can see you cry in the rain.

Fifteen minutes later, Antonio and I are head down, jogging along the coast towards the promenade.

“So, what's got you walking around slamming doors?” I huff as we slow our jog to a walk as we reach the main road of the promenade.

He stops, placing his hands over his head to catch his breath, he’s a lot more unfit than I remember. Must be from all the travelling not allowing him to get a chance to get into the gym.

“Valerie…”

The irony is that his little pink obsession is now starting to backfire.

“Funny you say that, I’ve been wanting to ask why she needed the job so badly?” I ask.

“She needed a job to hold her over until her art commissions started and wouldn't just let me give her the money so it was the fastest solution I could offer. If it's such a major problem I'll just shift her over to be my assistant,” he says, his annoyance resurfacing.

“No!” I blurt out, and his eyes widen. “I mean, that's not necessary. I need the help and she needs the job. It's fine. That’s clearly not what's bothering you though,” I press.

My phone pings in my pocket and the email alone has me nearly seeing red. Or pink, in this case. “It wouldn't happen to have something to do with the five thousand euros L'Arte del Gioiello paid out for a moissanite ring yesterday?”

Antonio’s biggest weakness is his eyes. They can tell a million stories, but not a single one of them could be a lie.

“She came in wanting to sell a ring. Mattia called saying he could tell it was fake but didn't want to break the news since the lady seemed desperate. Turns out it was Val and the ring she was trying to sell was her engagement ring,” he says in one breath and it takes my brain a few seconds to process.

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