Page 15 of Twisted Embrace

No, they were all dead. The vision of the man with his head half blown off suddenly roared into my mind. I took a deep breath, opening the door slowly, remaining where I was. There were no burly men hanging out in my kitchen and no boogeymen jumping out with weapons in their hands. Maybe in my rush I’d simply forgotten to lock the door.

Yet my instinct remained on high alert. I closed the door with a soft click, mindful of my steps as I headed toward the kitchen. I adored the room, the huge window providing an amazing view of the city, sunsets my favorite time of the day. For some reason, the way the last vestiges of sun shimmered in through the open blinds kept me on edge.

I eased the packages onto the counter, listening for any signs that someone was in my apartment. There was nothing but a slight rumble of heavy traffic below. After taking the wine from the bag, a strange trickle of electricity shifted all the way down my spine. I backed away from the counter, quietly opening my oven door. I rarely had time to cook and my father used to tell me to keep a weapon taped in the oven. No criminal would ever think of looking there.

On this night, I was thankful my father had raised a tomboy. He’d taught me how to shoot, change a tire, and diagnose several issues under the hood of his Chevy Blazer. I peeled away the tape, easing the cold steel into my hand. Flicking off the safety, I held it in both hands as I moved into the living room. Nothing appeared to have been touched.

Next was the hall bathroom and closet. As I made my way to the two bedrooms, one I used as an office, I held my breath. My bedroom was first, the door partially open just like I’d left it. I walked inside, swinging the weapon from side to side, heading to the bathroom and flicking on the light.

Everything was exactly as I’d left it the morning before.

My office was last. When I was standing in front of it, I realized there was a warm glow peeking around the edge of the door. I hadn’t been in my office in two days, my time spent entirely on the baby shower. Another wave of sadness spilled into my mind, tears threatening to cloud my vision. It was quickly replaced with raw fear.

I used my foot to open the door. The light on my desk was on. As soon as I walked in, I gathered an unusual scent and immediately I bristled.

Enzo had broken into my apartment. The arrogant son of a bitch. “Get out before I call the police.”

He moved from where he stood staring out the window, turning around to face me. “It’s time we had a talk, Joy.” His voice was just as dark as before, only instead of making me feel warm and fuzzy inside, the tone was menacing. Why hadn’t my intuition kicked in, warning me he that he wanted something from me?

“We have nothing to talk about.” Everything about his presence was suffocating, my throat threatening to close. He’d removed his jacket, placing it on the back of my chair as if he belonged here. The sleeves of his stark white shirt were rolled up past his elbows, highlighting his extreme muscular physique. I concentrated on the dark ink covering his muscular forearms, the images alone able to provide nightmares. Skulls, blades, and blood. What a horrific combination. I licked my dry lips, cognizant that he was standing in one spot staring at me.

There was such arrogance in the simple act, a knowing look in his eyes. There was no reason to be terrified of him, but I was almost petrified with fear, enough so I couldn’t think clearly.

“I think we do. In fact, I believe you know exactly what the conversation should be about. Don’t you?”

I honestly had no idea what he was talking about, but it was painfully clear he thought I had some level of responsibility for what had happened with Lucia. I’d always relied on my instinct, and it was screaming at me that whatever was terribly wrong wouldn’t be sorted out by a conversation.

“Get out or I’ll be forced to use this.” I kept both hands on the weapon, struggling to keep from showing any sign of fear.

“And why would you do that unless you knew why I was standing in your office?” He moved around the backside of the desk, heading in my direction. “How long, Joy?”

“How long what?” He was coming closer and my hands were starting to shake. “I said stop. Don’t come any closer.”

He cocked his head, the arrogant pig smiling at me as if daring me to pull the trigger. “Go ahead, Joy. Or is that even your real name?”

“What are you talking about?”

After taking a deep breath, he allowed his heated gaze to fall all the way down the length of my body. There was continued carnal need in his look, the smirk on his face as if anticipating tasting me. Fucking me. Over my dead body.

“How long have you been betraying my sister?”

I was so shocked I couldn’t react or think of anything to say. My heart thudded against my chest, my pulse racing. “What? She’s my best friend. I would never betray her.”

“That’s what you wanted everyone to believe. Tell me. How much did the Bratva scum pay you for years of treachery?”

Confusion blanketed my mind. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please, just go.” When he took another step closer, I reacted without thinking, pulling the trigger. When it clicked with no bullet being fired, I almost hyperventilated.

He reached out, grabbing the barrel then wrenching the gun from my hand, tossing it aside. “You don’t think I’m that stupid, do you? I found that easily as well as the one in your nightstand. I wanted to see for myself just how far you’d go in your attempts to follow the Pakhan’s orders.”

Bratva. Pakhan. I knew the terms, but they were foreign to me personally. Who the hell did he think I was? My thoughts drifted to the letter, which I’d shoved into a drawer in the kitchen before leaving. Oh, dear God. There couldn’t be a coincidence. I didn’t believe in them.

By the time you read this, my lovely daughter, it’s likely that I’m already dead. I’m a man with no regrets or guilt because of the decisions I’ve made, the bloodshed I caused. Except for one. You. While you have no reason to trust me, you must leave New York and never return. They will hunt you down. When they find you, they will kill you.

The penned words would remain in my mind, but the explanation hadn’t made any sense.

“No. You’re wrong,” I said, barely recognizing my voice.

He snapped his hand around my throat, squeezing as he glared at me. The combination of hate and lust in his cold eyes was overwhelming. For a few seconds, I couldn’t react. Then I welcomed my instinctual actions, issuing several hard jabs to his stomach followed by a swift knee to his balls. That did the trick, his hand falling away as he roared like an injured lion.

---