Page 55 of Fortress of the King

RAYNE

I’ve been strugglingto take my mind off Angelo Medici and our dirty rendezvous. It’s all I’ve been thinking about all day. The man’s insatiable, his appetite in the bedroom is as formidable as his reputation in business.

I’m on tenterhooks since we haven’t made any further plans to see each other again, and my one slip about the car crash with my parents, even mentioning my sister, has me reeling.

I told Angelo nobody survived the crash because I didn’t want him prying into my life. It’s best if he thinks I’m an only child that way, I can keep my secret about Mia safe. I deleted my social media accounts when this whole thing went down, so there’s no way he can find out anything there.

There is no denying our chemistry, as much as I try to pretend it isn’t there. It stares back at me and dares me to dance with the devil, disturbing me in more ways than one.

I swallow hard when I think about what I did while Angelo slept….

I slip out of bed first to use the bathroom, then, seeing he’s still fast asleep, I tiptoe down the hallway quietly and head downstairs. I saw his office on the way in here and I know exactly where I’m heading. The house is still and quiet in the dead of night. How fitting. Dead being the optimum word, because while I should feel dead inside, I’ve never felt more alive doing what we just did. What does that make me? I brush it off, not wanting to go there. Like I do every second of every day, I think about Mia and how kind and sweet she is. How she’d never hurt anyone, how unfair all of this is; that she has been dragged into all of this. If I could take her place, I gladly would.

It sickens me to think I’ve been cavorting with this monster while she’s been held hostage, but

I’m here now, in his house, about to pry through his things.

My only job is to get information.

Angelo and his brothers are hard to pin down. I tiptoe down the stairs, glad they don’t creak or groan and head down to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and make sure I haven’t woken him before venturing into his office.

When the coast is clear, I sneak on in. The first thing I see is that huge dark, mahogany desk, which draws my eye in the dim light, it has a high-backed luxurious looking leather chair.The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves surround the entire walls, in fact, I’ve never seen so many books. It does not surprise me that he’s a Tom Clancy fan and has many other books ranging from philosophy to artworks.

It’s evident to me there hasn’t been a woman’s touch around there in some time, some stupid part of me wonders why. With the bevy of women at his beck and call, why settle on just one? My fingers brush the ancient spines of some of the older books, first editions that are probably worth a fortune. I stop at his desk, checking behind me again just to make sure I’m alone; my heart races with every second I spend in here.

I see an open diary sitting on the desk amongst the other paperwork stacked in one pile, it’s got to contain something that I can use.

I pull out my phone from the robe I slipped on and snap some photos of his upcoming schedule, amazed he even has a paper diary but glad all the same. It fills me with dread that I’m doing this. Tonight, I’ve questioned everything I know.

If Angelo is such a monster, why does he treat me like a queen? His queen. None of it makes any sense.

When I’m satisfied, I have at least something worthwhile to show I’ve been in his house, maybe that will earn me some talk time with Mia. There’s no way I can go snooping around in his drawers and around his desk, I’m too afraid of getting caught.

I take my glass of water back upstairs, slide under the covers and immediately snuggle back into his huge bed. He seems to sleep so soundly; I watch the slow and steady rise of his chest as I drift off back to sleep….

It was so fucking dangerous doing that, if he caught me snooping— I don’t even want to think about it.

I don’t think sleepwalking would be a good excuse to keep him from questioning me and potentially slitting my throat when he found the photos I’d taken on my phone.

I hate that we have this connection and that, if I’m honest, I’ve let myself feel something for him, even if it is fleeting. We fit together.But it’s just sex,I tell myself.Nothing more.

No matter what I try to tell myself, Iwantedhim to touch me. I wanted him all along.

Angelo Medici has me all mixed up, there is no denying it.

I’m in utter turmoil.

I’ve been given a no-reply email address to send the photos to, then I delete them from my phone. I’ve given them weeks of appointments, dinners, and places Angelo will be, namely the Gala Ball.

Later that night, when I’m alone with my thoughts, I get the call that I’ve been dreading.

“Finally, some progress,” the voice says with amusement. “I take it you had an enjoyable night.”

“Did you get the photos?” I say quickly. “I emailed them earlier. I need to speak to my sister.”

“We’ll get to that.”

I want to scream and jump up and down. I’m that highly strung and angry, but I know that this may be enough, it might keep them satisfied so they can do what they want with him, and I get Mia back.

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