Page 15 of Dangerous King
I hesitate only for a second. I've never drunk strong alcohol before, nothing other than wine or champagne, but I think tonight warrants a first. I take the liquor.
"Well, Cat, who are you?" Enrico comes straight to the heart of the matter.
I take a sip, and the alcohol burns its way down my throat, but it also warms my stomach.
"Can't that wait? I'm tired. It's time to go to bed," Izzy pouts.
"You're welcome to go to bed," Enrico tells her.
She rolls her eyes.
He lifts his hand, and I recoil, thinking he's going to strike her. Instead, he reaches forward and places his hand on her knee.
"Are you alright?" He looks so sincere, my heart skips a beat. His concern for his sister is obvious, and so is his love for her, making my eyes water for a second time. Or is it more by now? I don't even remember.
I'm not sure if it's Izzy's mention of being tired or some other reason, but I suddenly feel exhausted and spent, and I wish Enrico would let us go to bed like Izzy requested.
"Well?" Enrico prods, looking at me again.
His gaze makes me feel warm and fluttery in places I don't usually think about. I don't think it's the alcohol. It's him. There's something about the way he looks at me—dark and intense, like he knows things I've never dared to imagine—that makes my skin feel too tight and my thoughts feel… indecent. Like I accidentally wandered into the kind of story I'd never admit to reading.
"Uhm, I'm Catalina Costa," I say, clearing my throat, feeling self-conscious and foolish. "I was born in Agrigento, Sicily, and I already told you that my father is Ceasar Costa, the Mayor of Puerto Sangue. I've been with the Giordanos for fourteen years to ensure my father turns a blind eye to the port and his dealings there." I summarize.
"Leave it to that sly bastard," Dante says, shaking his head.
To my surprise, all three men look disgusted, and Izzy is shocked.
"Hostage?" She asks me, and I nod.
"Alright, that's it. You go make sure her family is safe, and she and I will go to bed now." Izzy rises with graceful dignity. Holding out her hand to me, she says, "Come."
"Not so fast, I still have questions for you, Izzy." Enrico's benevolent expression turns darker.
With a dramatic sigh, Izzy plops back down. "Fine. I know, okay?" She glares at him. "I fucked up. I should have never left the?—"
Enrico cuts her off. "We can talk about your transgressions tomorrow, too. What I want to know now is, what happened?"
Most of Izzy's bravado disappears. She tightens her grip on my hand like it's the only thing tethering her to the ground. She sits perched on the edge of the low velvet chaise like it might bite her, fingers twisting nervously in her lap. She looks tired, no, more than that, she looks shaken beneath the sass she has expressed so far. But she's trying to hide it.
"I was going to meet Gigi," she starts. "We'd planned to sneak out and go to the concert."
Enrico's jaw tightens across from me. His arms are crossed, his stance rigid while he listens to Izzy, who keeps talking, faster now. "The guards let me through like always—" She shrugs.
Enrico growls low in his throat and shoots a look at Silvano. "We'll deal with them tomorrow," he mutters darkly.
Izzy winces. "I know. I messed up."
"Just keep going," he says, voice clipped but under control.
She nods. "I walked down the path toward our meeting spot, but Gigi wasn't there. Then a black SUV pulled up. I thought maybe she changed the plan last-minute or sent someone to get me. But…"
Her voice falters.
"But?" Dante encourages.
Izzy swallows. "A man got out. I didn't even feel scared at first. He didn't look like he could grab me."
"What did he look like?" Enrico prods.
