Page 85 of Where Wild Hearts Dance
Benito pauses for a second, then inhales deeply. “What is Federico’s involvement with them?”
I sniff, unable to wipe my nose, and look up through watery eyes. “I don’t know, Benito. I haven’t spoken to Federico in three years. I promise you, I don’t know anything.”
He folds his arms, continuing to regard me with real, venomous suspicion. I have a terrifying feeling I’m not getting through to him. He doesn’t believe me.
His voice dips even lower. “When is he coming here?”
“What?” I hiccup through a sob.
“Federico,” he repeats. “When is he coming here to ‘ruin’ me?”
I shake my head and don’t reply. There’s no point when he doesn’t believe a word that comes out of my mouth.
Seconds pass that are only filled by the sound of my soft cries.
“When Cristiano finds out you’ve tied me up in some basement…” I choke out.
“He knows.”
That stops my tears instantly.
“And Trilby?”
Benito waves a hand like it’s irrelevant. “That depends on how much he tells her.”
I feel a small nugget of hope in my belly. There’s no way in this world Trilby would allow Benito to hold me hostage like this. It’s unbelievable.
“You’re colluding with someone who is affiliated with the Marchesi’s, Contessa. And as you said, they killed your mother. And Trilby should know… She was there.”
He leaves those words to penetrate my brain. If Trilby believes this, then the rest of my family could too. The thought makes me feel hollow and helpless.
“I’ll leave you to think about that, Contessa.”
“No—” I glance up sharply. “You can’t leave me here.”
“You need some time to reflect, I think.”
“No, Benito, please…” More tears pour from my eyeballs. I had just started to care for this man, but the first suggestion that I might be keeping the truth from him, he gives the benefit of the doubt to Federico, not me.
He’s about to walk out of the room when he stops and turns to look at me over his shoulder. “Federico was right about one thing though…”
I hold his gaze, seeking the warmth I once found there but finding none.
“He does know my Achilles heel.” He feeds his hands into his pockets and regards me one last time. “It’syou. And he’s done what he set out to do. He’s ruined it.”
Then he spins back around and walks to the far end of the room. He pulls open a door and exits, leaving me alone, in tears and feeling so utterly helpless I could die.
Benito
Only Cristiano looks up when I return to the VIP room. “Sorry about that. Update on the renovations.”
Beppe glances at me briefly before downing half a bottle of beer. “Are you any closer to finding out who did it?”
“No. Fingerprint scans were lost. My guys are searching through more security footage.”
I reach for my glass and inhale a large mouthful of whiskey, feeling Cristiano’s narrowed gaze on the side of my face.
The image of Tess tied to a chair in the basement settles across my lids, stubbornly refusing to abate. I won’t be able to hold out much longer. While she’s destroyed any chance of us being anything more than a three-day-hotel fling, and loose relationsthrough mafia ties, I can’t simply switch off the way she makes my balls ache whenever I look at her, or the way she makes my cock stiffen with a gentle laugh. I also won’t get away with keeping her in the basement forever. The clock’s ticking and I need to make the most of my little captive whore while I can.
