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Melinda sighed. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Melinda, I know this is hard for you, but—”

“Hard for me?” She bounded off the bed. The last straw snapped into a thousand pieces. “Hard? No. Losing my parents was heartbreaking.” She choked on a sob. “Watching my grandfather slowly decline into a bag of bones before he died was horrifying. Learning he sold me like a piece of furniture and my Grams did nothing to protect me…” She sucked in a breath, willing herself not to cry, not to let another tear drop. “Hard doesn’t describe it.”

Erik took a step toward her; his hand extended as though he would cradle her in his arms if he got close enough.

“Dammit, just leave me alone!” She hurried into the bathroom and slammed the door, flicking the lock on the handle in case he got any ideas of joining her.

Melinda sat on the edge of the tub and pinned her hands between her knees. Her grandmother had abandoned her. Her grandfather had sold her. The truth played in a continuous loop.

How had she grown up not really knowing them, not knowing how easily they could discard her?

A click sounded, and the door opened. Of course, he had a key.

“Don’t lock doors against me.” His heavy voice filled the space between them. Leaving the door open, he walked away. She heard the bedroom door open and shut from where she sat on the cold porcelain tub.

A tear rolled down her cheek and dropped silently to the floor.

Chapter 8

Erik pinched the bridge of his nose and rolled his chair away from the desk. His eyes burned, and his back ached. He stood up and stretched.

“Get anywhere?” Nico entered the office, carrying a bowl. A spoon stuck out of a perfectly rolled scoop of vanilla ice cream.

“You hate ice cream.” Erik eyed the sweet dessert.

“It’s for Melinda.” Nico shrugged. “She didn’t come down for dinner.”

The tray he’d had sent up came down untouched. Could she be trying to starve herself?

Erik scratched his chin beneath his beard. “I’ll take it to her. I’m going to head up there anyway.” He held his hand out.

“What makes this one different?” Nico asked, handing the bowl over.

“How do you mean?”

“I mean she’s the third girl we’ve had to do this with, but she’s the first who stays in your room. The first to have even seen your room.”

Erik laughed. “I think you’re making too much out of nothing.” He slapped Nico on the shoulder. “I’m going up. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He’d given Melinda enough time to sort through what he’d told her. He needed more answers about her parents. His gut told him there was a connection between her family and the Bertucci family. Small as it might be, there had to be something.

Melinda sat on the bed with her legs crossed, her laptop perched in her lap. She looked up from her screen and frowned.

“I brought you something.” He put the chilled bowl of ice-cream on the nightstand beside her and peeked at her screen. “What are you doing?”

“Writing. Your brother brought up my things from my car.” She closed the laptop and held it to her chest. After Ian came home with her car, Erik had given permission for her laptop to be brought to her. All Internet connections were on lockdown. She could work on her writing, but that would be it.

“You didn’t come down for dinner.” He put space between them.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Yes, you were,” he countered. “You just didn’t want to see me.”

Her gaze met his for a brief moment before flicking to the ice cream. “I don’t really want to see you now, either.”

He smiled. “Not much of a choice, though, seeing as you’re in my bedroom.”

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