Page 30 of Three More Shots
I swear to god pride fills her expression from my question. I’m finally catching on – I think.
“Yes, she likes the pink ones the best.”
“I should’ve known.”
Her grin meets mine from my teasing.
“You’re doing a wonderful job. More than her own dad ever even cared enough to try.”
The praise should please me, but all I hear is about that motherfucking bastard. “Don’t bring him up to me. I’m her father now.”
The finality of my words settles her down, still with a smile on her groggy face. “Then go take care of her Steele Daddy, and I’ll be waiting for you when you come back.”
Unable to resist, I kiss her gently before I stand. “Rest,cara,because you’re going to need to get better fast.”
Her giggle follows me all the way to the hall, on my way to learn how to play nurse.
* * *
Sleep eludesme with the rage still gripping my pensive mind, so I make good use of my insomnia. Alternating between holding mycarawhile she sleeps and peeking in on Ains to make sure she’s out too, I wear a path in the already shitty carpet between their bedrooms. Both of them seem oblivious to my nocturnal prowling as well as my planning on my phone. Luckily, the jeweler designing Corinne’s ring seems pleased rather than annoyed I’m bothering her in the middle of the night. Maybe she’s a romantic at heart. More likely, she’s excited about the unexpected millions coming her way from my sudden and urgent demand for a diamond gorgeous enough for my fiancée.
An unknown number flashes on the screen. Normally I would ignore anyone I don’t know, but with the bullshit my girls have endured today, I don’t have the luxury of disregarding someone who has the audacity to call me at three in the morning. I glide my daughter’s door shut and stride to the kitchen, refusing to let either of them be disturbed anymore.“This better be good.”
“Steele? It’s Isabella Santini.”
Fury surges in me from her timid intonation murmuring in my ear over a din of voices echoing in the background. She knows she fucked up, and yet she’s still fucking crazy enough to think I actually want to talk to her. “Really? You almost got my woman killed and now you want to chat? I’m–”
“I wanted to say thank you.”
Unbelievable. Being cut off isn’t something I’m used to dealing with or tolerate well.
“And that I’m sorry. I didn’t know Beppe would come after you.”
Apology not accepted. I’m still too livid not to be petulant or consider revenge for the hell she put Corinne and Ainsley through. “I told you from the get-go that I didn’t want to get involved. None of this was fucking worth saving you from a marriage you always knew your father would arrange for you.”
“It’s more than just that!”
The apprehension from earlier evaporates in her voice when she snaps back at me. Which after what she’s done, the insolence needs to disappear — fast. “I just killed that cocksucker for you, so you better tell me what the fuck I got dragged into.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
I don’t murder women, but this one is frustrating enough that I might consider an exception to my normal rules. I grit my teeth to keep from raising my voice and waking up my family. “Make me understand.”
“Will the truth be enough?”
“Depends on the truth.”
“I hear you have a daughter now. She’s not yours, but you love her the same as if she was?”
A simple question, yet I perceive her intent as a threat. “Be very careful, Isabella.”
“Would you ever hurt her?”
The pain in her voice is almost as sharp as the warming in mine. “I already know Beppe hurt you. The guy was an asshole.”
“Hurt?” Her frustrated laugh wafts through the speaker. “He killed me a little bit at a time. He wrung the life out of me, extracting every emotion from me until he made me a doll. He reformed me in ways I hope never happen to the women in your life.”
“No hope required. I’ll never let that happen.”
