Page 38 of The Deal

“Please.” I take a tentative step toward the breakfast bar. Chloe hasn’t looked at me yet; she chooses to keep her back to me, so I pull out a stool and take the seat beside her. “How’s your hand this morning?”

She lifts one shoulder, still refusing to meet my gaze. “Tender.”

“I’ll take you to the clinic after breakfast for your scan.”

“Where is my dad?”

“Safe.”

That has her snapping her head in my direction.

Finally.

Her eyes narrow slightly as they take in my appearance. In my rush to get down here, I only bothered to zip my jeans, forgetting to button them. She’s probably still fuming at me, but I don’t miss the flicker of appreciation in her gaze as it lingers on my bare chest, tracing the line of my tattoo.

I got the rosary beads inked in memory of my mother. She always had a pair clutched in her hand when she was alive. In death as well. I made sure she was buried with her favourite set.

Now that I’m privy to the type of man my father is, I’ve often wondered if that’s why she held onto them so tightly.

“Safe where?” Chloe snaps, her eyes locking with mine. “Is he alive?”

“Of course, he’s alive,” I reply, trying to keep my tone steady. “I told you I’d take care of him. I’m a man of my word.”

“Ha! I know exactly what type of man you are, Alexander Mancini,” she retorts, her voice dripping with bitterness. “The kind who kidnaps women against their will, threatens to put a bullet in their father’s head unless they comply with your demands, and then demolishes their house as a safeguard so they have nowhere else to go.”

I hear Carmella gasp, and I tilt my face toward the ceiling,groaning inwardly. On the surface, yes, that’s precisely what I did. But what she doesn’t understand is that things aren’t always as they seem.

My morning went exactly as expected.Shit.Now I’ve got two hostile women to deal with. Carmella has never been this cold towards me. She barely spoke during breakfast, practically slamming both my coffee and my plate down in front of me, and has refused to make eye contact with me since Chloe’s confession.

It should be me who’s angry at her for leaving the window open, allowing Chloe to escape.

Fucking women.

This is precisely why I choose to stay single. I’m not interested in all that drama.

I should’ve gone straight to work when we returned from the clinic, but obviously, I’m a glutton for punishment. I couldn’t bring myself to leave Chloe alone, deciding to spend the day trying to repair the bridge I’d burned between us.

Thankfully, her wrist isn’t broken, just badly sprained. The doctor has given her some pain medication and instructed a combination of rest, ice, compression, and elevation. Tomorrow, he wants her to start range-of-motion exercises. She’s stubborn, so at least if I’m here, I can make sure she follows orders.

When we reenter the house, I guide her upstairs to my room. She’ll stay with me until I can install some bars on the window in her bedroom. I’m not taking any chances with this one. She’s likely already plotting her next escape—or maybe planning to murder me in my sleep.

“Lie down,” I command, pulling back the covers on mybed. She shoots me a dirty look but slips off her shoes and does as she’s told.

She showered before we left for the clinic. I had offered to help her since she only had one functioning hand, but she shot me down.“It’ll be a cold day in hell before I willingly let you put your hands on me again, arsehole.”Her words were solidified when she proceeded to slam the bathroom door in my face.

I’m not used to being so blatantly disrespected, but a part of me also enjoys her sass. Call me crazy, but her fierceness turns me on.

Once she’s lying down, I grab one of my pillows and carefully place it under her injured wrist, then pull the covers up to her chin. Her narrowed eyes follow my every move, watching me like a hawk.

I head into the bathroom, grab the glass from the countertop, and fill it with water so she can take her pain medication.

When I return to the room, her eyes are closed, but the scowl still etched on her face tells me she’s far from asleep. I roll my lips to hide my smile as I take a seat on the side of the bed. As soon as the mattress dips, her pretty whisky-coloured eyes spring open.

“Lift up,” I say, sliding my hand under her neck and elevating her head off the pillow. “You need to take your pain meds.” She winces when she pushes up onto her elbows, and I hate seeing her in pain. “Open up.”

She looks less than impressed but does as instructed. I place the pill on her tongue and bring the glass to her lips. “Good girl.” My praise earns me another dirty look. I barely manage to suppress my grin, trying to hide my amusement. “Are you going to behave yourself today,bella?”

“Are you going to tell me where my father is?” she counters.

---