Page 6 of Bound By Sin
“I don’t care who you work for, Ms. Montero.” I sighed, running my hand through my hair. “How the hell did you get this number, anyway?”
“Are you the father of Nia Weatherly, the daughter of former actress and supermodel, Tara Weatherly?” she asked, ignoring my question.
My fucking heart slammed against my chest like a goddamn freight train.
What the fuck did she just ask me? Tara had a child? Why the hell didn’t I know about this?
“Mr. Cavallaro?” she called out.
The fog barely lifted from my mind. Did I really have a child I didn’t know about?
“Are you still there? Mr. Cavallaro? Can you answer my question, sir? My sources are telling me you are the father of Nia Weatherly. Is it true? Do you want to comment?” she asked, one question after the other.
Nia Weatherly.
Do I really have a daughter?
“Who are your sources, Ms. Montero?” I answered her question with one of my own. I wanted to know how she was able to link Tara’s child to me and not someone else. I wanted to know how real this information was or if someone was trying to get to me, possibly through Tara. Anger rose inside me.
“The who is not important, Mr. Cavallaro, but—”
“What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“Sir, do you or do you not have a daughter with Tara Weatherly?” she asked, exasperated. “It’s a simple yes or no question.”
Was this bitch fucking for real? Who the hell did she think she was talking to?
“Boss?” Aurelio called out from the passenger seat.
I quickly flicked my eyes up at him, and concern covered his face. I needed to calm down before I outright threatened to murder this bitch. My eyes briefly shut as I tried to calm down.
“Mr. Cavallaro…”
“Ms. Montero, do you know who I am?”
At this point, I was barely able to control my rage despite the warning in Aurelio’s eyes. Without hearing the other side of the conversation, he knew I was about to blow a gasket. If Tara did have my child, there was no fucking way I’d let this bitch harm either one of them.
Was I pissed she didn’t tell me? Fuck yeah! I was mad as hell, but she was the love of my life. The other half of my soul. I’d give her a chance to explain why the hell she didn’t get in touch with me if we had a child together. Sure, I didn’t answer her calls, but all she had to do was leave a damn message. Fuck! Or send one through Brian.
Either way, my personal life would not be front-page news for anyone to read. I had fucking enemies that would love to learn the news that I had a kid and put a target on the back of someone I loved. That shit was not about to happen. Not on my watch.
“I do,” she stammered.
“Then Ms. Montero, I suggest you and that trash magazine you work for stop this story immediately, or you’ll personally pay the consequences.”
“Di…did you just threaten me?” she squeaked. “We have a thing in this country called freedom of the press, Mr. Cavallaro! You can’t silence me! My readers want to hear the truth. My readers will hear the truth whether you give me answers or not.”
I can silence anybody I fucking want to. Fuck you, and fuck freedom of the press.
A sinister chuckle slipped from between my lips. “I don’t make threats, Ms. Montero. If I say it, it’s a fucking promise. If you know who I am, then you know this is true. Kill the fucking story, or you’llpersonallysee me very, very soon so we can chat face-to-face about your right to speak on shit you know nothing about. Ask yourself...do you think a story is really worth the priceyou’llpay and whoever else I decide to add to the list? Maybe your family?”
I ended the call without waiting for a response. I might have gone a little too far with the threat to her and her family, but if she knew what was good for her, she’d heed my warning and lose my fucking number. She’d be dead as soon as that story hit the presses and whoever else had a hand in running it.
I took a breath and dialed my lawyer, Johnathan Diamata. I had a feeling that my threat, although very real, wouldn’t deter them from running the story. Having my legal team also on it would cover my ass just in case I’d have to do things the dirty way, like kill that bitch. At least it would look like I tried to handle things legally to the cops if I had to kill everyone involved and they came looking for answers from me.
“Hello, Valentino.”
“John, I’m in Chicago.” I didn’t have time for pleasantries. I needed this taken care of as soon as possible. “I need you to send a cease-and-desist to anExposémagazine. I assume they are headquartered here in Chicago, but I’m not sure. I need them to understand they cannot, under any circumstances, print any fucking story about me or anyone connected to me.”
