Page 29 of Dating the Don

I make it about halfway there when Annalisa steps out in front of me. The motion is so fluid and sudden, it’s like she materialized out of the shadows. She leans a shoulder against the closest wall and holds a glass of red wine in her hand. From the slightly unfixed glaze in her eyes, I would guess it’s hardly her first.

“I was wondering when you two would show up.”

I don’t have the energy for her right now. Right now, she's the last thing I need. Especially now that she's made up her mind about disliking me. I haven’t even washed the ash out of my hair. I need out of this dress and into something clean and time to get used to the burning in my lungs. I simply want to take a shower, get into bed with Ada, and cry all night long. I need to feel like myself again.

“I can’t do this tonight, Annalisa,” I say, resuming my walk.

Of course, she doesn't let me go that easily. “I’m speaking to you.”

“And I told you, I can’t do this. I don’t know if you know, or if you just don’t care, but I’ve had a hell of a hard night so far.”

She lets me stagger a few more steps down the hall before speaking again. “Don’t you want to know who tried to kidnap you?”

“You weren’t even there, what do you know of it!” I say without turning. I want to summon anger. I want to rage and scream at her, but I’m just too tired. My mind won’t stop spinning and I can’t seem to make it settle, no matter how hard I try.

“Just because I was not physically present, doesn’t mean I didn’t have eyes there, watching everything. A good mafia wife knows that knowledge is just as powerful as any other tactical move. Secrets are worth more than gold, my dear. You would know that if you had any business stepping into the role that you’ve so selfishly chosen for yourself.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know who that man is,” Annalisa drawls and takes another long sip of her wine. “I could also tell you the truth about your father if you want me to.”

She’s got to be drunk.

I don’t want to play her games. My heart hurts. My head is pounding. I am not sure that whatever knowledge she might or might not have will help me in any way, shape, or form. I don’t know if I can trust anything that she says.

My gut instinct is to tell her I don’t want to play. The surest way to lose is to ask her for information. If secrets are her currency, like she’s saying, then she’s not going to be offering them to me for free and I have nothing to pay with. She’s going to ask me to leave Cristiano again, isn’t she? I can’t do that. No matter how angry I am with him. We have a deal.

As if summoned, Cristiano emerges at the far end of the corridor. He looks as though he has finally decided to pursue me. Flattering, but pointless. I doubt I'll have the energy to speak with him tonight. Not when I still need to sort through so much. I thought he would be upset with me for running away from him the way I had, yet all I see in him is worry. I'm not sure how to handle that.

His expression softens as we make eye contact, and he takes a half step toward me. His hand lifts, like he wants to touch me but distance prevents it.

Something in my chest aches for him.

He’s only trying to help, I know that. I don’t like it, but I know that it’s true. He’s only trying to explore every option available to him.

If my mother did lie, then it had to be for a good reason because she was a good person. She wouldn’t keep me from a loving father no matter what she felt for the man. If she lied, then my father is a bad person. There’s no other possibility.

What if Annalisa really knows about him? I owe it to myself to stand here and listen to it. No matter how much it hurts. If she demands a price, then I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Cristiano, seeing that I’m done running, comes to join me. His hand is warm and comforting as it finds mine. Annalisa rolls her eyes at the casual intimacy and turns to head toward her rooms again. We follow behind her silently.

Why now?

Why wait to tell me now if she knew who my father was this whole time? Why keep it a secret? If he had been successful in kidnapping me, would her truths have prevented such things?

“Cristiano, I suppose by now you’ve realized that Callum Sullivan is alive,” she sighs heavily and sinks into her chaise lounge. I know that she makes a dramatic show of being air headed, while she really always sees far more than anybody gives her credit for. I used to admire her for it.

“Yes, I suspected that,” Cristiano answers guiltily and my focus snaps to him. Callum? Is that who they think my father is? Why didn’t he tell me?!

Oh… because I yelled at him maybe.

Annalisa nods toward the glass of wine on the table with a knowing look. “You might wish for some to settle your nerves, dear.”

I used to think it was so charming whenever she called me thus, now it feels almost insulting.

Neither Cristiano nor I go for the wine.

“Suit yourself,” Annalisa shrugs. “Where to begin? I suppose at the beginning, right? Isn’t that what they all say?”

I don’t like the way she smirks at me. It almost feels… victorious. Though, for the life of me, I cannot guess what she believes she’s getting out of all of this. There’s nothing for her to gain, not that I know of anyway.

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