Page 59 of Hers to Control

I nod, watching as the reality of the situation sinks in. “Yes.”

Samson meets my gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of resignation and determination. Looks like the asshole might just have a tiny bit of spine left. For now, anyway.

“Tell me what you need me to do,” he says, his voice shaking only slightly. I’m almost impressed.

“I need you to call her and say goodbye.”

His face pales even more. I’ve got little confidence in this asshole, but I’ve got men in here that are ready to give him a nudge should he back out.

“Goodbye.” The way he says the word tells me he gets my meaning. “I already did that.”

I nod once, but before I can get up, he reaches out and stops me. “Wait. There is something you need to know.”

Ten minutes later, I’m done with the guy, and soon Mia won’t have to worry about her father’s shit anymore.

Mia

Left alone in the villa, I have time to take a long bath. My shoulders ache from being tied to that chair, and, left with only my own thoughts for company, it’s hard to ignore the memories associated with that pain.

Determined, I use the coconut-scented body wash to clean my body, rubbing over the tiny red dot caused by the injection that is still visible on my arm.

Time to get over it and keep moving.

I’m good at getting over things. I’ve had practice with that. That day when Gianna called me to her cabin, Mikhail still tied up in her basement, I told her there were ways to make a body disappear. I was prepared to help my friend the way I helped my father.

I should have walked away then. Should have walked away when he killed that Russian and asked me to help him move the body. But I didn’t, because none of that actually broke me, however bad I felt at the time. I kept going, knowing my father wasn’t some cold-hearted murderer, but just a callus man who had defended himself.

Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back and the water run over my face, washing away the memory.

Eventually, I emerge feeling somewhat rejuvenated, though the memories of my recent ordeal still linger like a shadow in the back of my mind. As I towel off and slip into a fresh set of clothes, I resolve to push those thoughts aside for now. There’s no time to dwell on the past when the present demands my attention.

Making my way to the living room, I settle onto the plush sofa, grateful for the solitude of the villa. But my solitude is short-lived as the familiar creak of the front door opening draws my attention.

Anton, the butler, greets someone and I walk closer to the door to hear what they are saying. Call me paranoid, but at the rate I’ve been going, I don’t like the idea of sitting around while people I don’t know come and go.

“Buona sera, Signor Angelo. We’ve been expecting you,” Anton greets a man wearing an expensive-looking suit. The guy is attractive, but despite his sleek appearance, he doesn’t make my belly do that thing it does when I see Eric.

My curiosity is piqued, though, since Gianna mentioned nothing about someone coming to visit. And I know the name Anton used to greet him. Riccardo Angelo, the head of the other Italian syndicate operating in Toronto. He’s the one Eric thought may be an ally in a potential conflict against the Russians, though Mikhail was doubtful about that. Not that I know much more than that, but it’s enough to know he’s not someone to mess with. He may also be a player that Gianna could consider as an ally to solve the brewing conflict between her family and the Bratva.

Through a gap in the door, I watch as Anton leads Riccardo and a second man further into the villa towards Gianna’s office. Their voices fade into a mostly inaudible murmur, but I can still hear snatches of their conversation.

“Please, make yourself comfortable, Signor Angelo. Miss Bruno will be with you shortly.”

Riccardo’s response is too soft for me to make out, but the familiarity in his tone sends a chill down my spine.

Why does it only occur to me now that we weren’t the only ones around when we discussed where I should hide? Anton is always in and out of the rooms we’re in. If I could hear themspeak in the entrance area now, surely he’d been close enough to hear us talk about the cabin when we were all sitting in here.

Before I can ponder my revelation further, Gianna’s voice sounds as she approaches her office. I press myself against the wall, straining to hear more of their conversation.

“Riccardo, what a surprise! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

That doesn’t sound at all as if she’s been expecting him and my hackles rise even more.

Why is Riccardo Angelo here? And should I ask Gianna if her staff might not be as loyal as she believes them to be or should I wait for Eric to get back?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Mia

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