Page 29 of Cruel Redemption

He was hesitant. In all these years our dislike of each other had only intensified. We had common ground. I needed Ciro to stand on it with me. He didn’t seem willing, no matter my argument.

“You do realize she had a tracker.” His words were bitter. “I took it out twenty-four hours ago.”

“I know. But she wanted it out. She’s not a little kitty from the shelter. You can’t put her in danger with one of those things. It’s more dangerous for every organization family in town to be able to locate her every move if they were able to hack the coordinates. I don’t know what you were thinking.”

He huffed. “She’s in danger now because she doesn’t have it. If she hadn’t gotten away this time, I’d be able to find her no problem. Like I did last time. That’s right. I found her. I am the only one who found her,” he hissed.

The guilt hit my stomach like lead. Fuck. If Ciro ever knew I was the one who kidnapped her last time he would stop at nothing to try to kill me. He would tell Amara. He would destroy her. Us. Everything I had fought to protect. I needed to know what he had investigated from Nikoli’s abduction. Was there a full-scale hunt on his end after his partner was slaughtered? Did he care that Lorenzo Amato was killed, despite being on his deathbed.

“About that.” I waited at the stop light for the trolley crossing. Tourists hung out of the open-air windows, snapping pictures with their phones. “How does a security expert not track down the people responsible for his boss’s kidnapping?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “The house was abandoned. In bank foreclosure. There was no one to trace it back to. No one stepped in and bought it either. It’s still with the bank. I’ve watched it. I’ve had my eye on that house for four years.”

“Hmm. It just doesn’t make sense.” I had to play along. “Ever since Amara told me I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the timing. What errand did Lorenzo send you on? The man was dying, and he sent you away on his fucking deathbed? I don’t get it. Who would do that?”

Ciro grunted. “Why would I tell you that?”

“Why wouldn’t you? The man’s dead. Someone is after his daughter. You don’t see the coincidences adding up the same why I do?”

“No. I don’t.”

The trolley had passed us, and the light turned green. I stepped on the gas.

“Amara believes you’re loyal to her. I’ve always had my doubts.” I didn’t have a problem being blunt with this asshole.

“I could say the same thing about you,” he growled.

“I’m sure you have.” I smiled. “The difference is one of us will be in her life forever, and the other is a paid employee. You have no guarantees, Ciro. So, watch your fucking words, and your fucking games and help me find her assistant. Or you’ll be cut out of this equation before she steps foot in her house again. I can promise you that.”

“In her life forever?” he repeated. “You think you’re going to marry her?” It was hard over the roar of the engine to discern if I heard pain or surprise in his voice. Maybe it was a mixture of both.

“I know I am.” I pulled into the courtyard driveway. “As soon as we find out who the family is that’s playing this damn game.”

“Where are we? This isn’t the Amato compound.”

“My new place,” I explained. I stood from the car and tossed the keys to my valet. “Come on,” I directed Ciro. He seemed to be in shock. He followed me inside. “Too many people at the office and I don’t know that Amara’s place is secure.” I wasn’t willing to take him to the stables either. “I have a guest suite where you can shower.” His suitcase was in the backseat.

“Has she agreed to this?” He studied me. “To your plan about the future,” he clarified.

“To being my wife?” That was what he was stuck on? The woman I loved was in danger and Ciro was worried about Amara’s answer.

He slid the sunglasses off his face. “Did she say yes?”

I exhaled. “Ciro, focus. We have work to do first.”

“So, you haven’t asked?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I haven’t. All of this shit happened before I had the chance.”

He didn’t have to say a word. I could see the relief on his face. His forehead relaxed. Was that a grin? Bastard.

“I guess we should get started.” His tone was lighter.

I didn’t have time to dissect how he thought. Minutes were too important to waste on the inner workings of how he processed information.

“In here,” I directed him to my new office. There was a white board in the middle of the room.

“What is this?” he asked.

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