Page 5 of Dating the Don

He’s thinking about how familiar she looks. How that shockingly perfect red hair might somehow be familiar to him in ways that I don’t want it to be. I don’t want him looking at her because now she’s going to ask even more questions that I cannot answer. None of the answers that she’s going to demand from me later are going to give her any satisfaction.

This bastard is going to die with his suspicions in his head and that’s a simple enough solution for all of us to reach. But Maeve… fuck, why did she have to come down here?

“It was just a rumor…” he mumbles.

He’s going to lose his tongue too.

“What rumor?” Maeve asks. I feel a knot of dread form in my stomach as she resists Al's grip. She tries to pull away from him even as he’s dragging her toward the staircase and up into her room .

I can’t let this go on. I have no other choice.

I spin the knife in my hand and plunge it deep into the sorry bastard’s throat. His eyes widen in surprise and the gurgle of his own blood instantly swallows anything else that he might have chosen to say.

I hate that I have to let my current lead go, but he wasn’t going to give me much more that I didn’t already know in the first place.

Maeve screams.

Not only from the terror of witnessing a man die in front of her eyes but also from frustration. I know her like the back of my hand. I can tell the difference.

“Get her out of here,” I command Al as I start to clean my blade.

“What rumors? Cristiano, what rumors? What are you doing, let go of me!” She screams as he starts to haul her up the stairs. He’s going to have to throw her over his shoulder to get her the fuck out of here at this rate. “What did he mean!? Cristiano!”

I can’t answer her.

“Put her in my room,” I order Al as he indeed bends to scoop her up into his arms. “And make sure that shestaysthere. I can’t have her getting into any more damned trouble.”

Now, instead of one mess I have to clean up, I have two.

CHAPTER THREE

MAEVE

When was the last time I was in Cristiano's bedroom? I can't recall. I remember being much younger and watching Ada sneak in and out of this room like it was nothing. Thinking back, I never went with her. I had a sneaking suspicion that he might be hiding secrets here. Now that I'm older and looking around the room, it seems silly. Maybe it was just that I always associated a certain amount of authority with him since he was older than me and a boy.

The bedroom is sparsely decorated. It feels like it cannot actually be his room.

The few times I walked past, I clearly remember seeing sports and boxing trophies up on a shelf. The main feature of the room is now a big bed with luxurious beddingin a deep green color that almost looks black. There is artabove the headboard, butit seems abstract and colorless to me. A dresser with a box full of watches resting on top, each in a glass-hinged cubby with a velvet-lined interior. A bottle of cologne that I refuse to smell.

As tempting as it is to rifle through his drawers, I refrain.

The closet is the same, unassuming and almost plain-looking. A black leather couch rests against one of the walls, and there is a bare small table in front of it. If I’m being perfectly honest, it doesn’t even look like he spends any time in here at all. This is not a room meant for relaxation. This is a rest stop for sleep and it looks like very little else.

Cold.

Not a word that I would have ever associated with Cristiano before today.

The minutes pass slowly. I explore the ensuite bathroom and the lack of trinkets in there.

It could be a hotel room.

There has to be some sort of secret for me to find in here. There’s got to be a reason that only the housekeeper is allowed access.

My search is over in the first five minutes. Nothing.

I make a futile attempt to count the seconds if only to contain my seething anger. I get distracted and immediately think of what the man in the basement said. Right before Cristiano killed him. Killed him! The man I've basically grown up next to...A murderer.

It’s too much.

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