Page 51 of The Leader

Jazzy wasn’t on the terrace or in the library, or in any of the other places he could usually find her. Instead, he found her in their bed, which was unusual, since it was only eleven o’clock. Jazzy was a bit of a night owl during the week, staying up till midnight.

He took a quick shower and went to bed. The second she felt his side of the bed dip, she rolled over and nestled against his chest.

He probably should ask about the letter and the painting, but he didn’t. What he did do, was kiss her. This was what he’d been looking forward to all day. What he craved. The one thing in his life that was totally his. His to protect, his to pleasure, and his to hold. He was going to eradicate any other man from her mind.

She spread her legs and pressed up against him.

Never before had he fucked a woman who was so responsive to him. Jazzy was adventurous in bed and a natural submissive between the sheets. Outside of the bedroom, she might be hell on wheels but inside, she liked giving up control.

After he made her come, she cuddled up to him again. He had noticed that about her from their first night. She loved crawling against him in bed, seeking his warmth, and probably his comfort and protection; though she would never admit that.

“I received a painting today,” she suddenly said.

“It’s a good painting,” he admitted begrudgingly. He might not like the artist, but he couldn’t deny the talent. There was a beauty in the phoenix he’d drawn. A beauty and strength to it, up to the resilience the fire beneath the bird represented, and that he associated with his wife.

“It’s from Mike. We grew up together. He was my childhood sweetheart. We had to keep it secret from my grandfather for most of our lives. Antonio Rossi’s granddaughter with the son of a maid? God forbid.”

There was a rawness in her tone that worried him. “Yet you kept seeing each other.”

She nodded. “Up until the first year of college. When I finally got out of the mansion, away from underneath my grandfather’s thumb, well, as away as was possible, we no longer had to hide our relationship. Ironically, that was when we discovered that we didn’t want to be together. Not like that. It’s odd how you can yearn for something when it’s forbidden, and the second you get what you want, it loses its appeal. We knew we were better off as friends.”

He would lie if he said that he wasn’t relieved to hear that. The thought of her heart belonging to another man was maddening.

“Mike had always dreamed about seeing the big masters: Da Vinci, Rembrandt, Raphael, you name it. Unfortunately, he never had the money to travel and he would die before taking anything from me. That’s why I went to Europe when I fled from you.” She chuckled, and he was relieved to hear her laugh, even if it was at his expense. “I promised to finish his bucket list for him.”

“What monster did he want to slay for you,bella?”

She stiffened in his arms. “You read the letter. You had no right.”

No, he didn’t. Still, he was glad he did. “Answer my question.”

“It’s just an expression.”

“No, it’s not. It was his last letter to you. Every word is thoroughly considered before it was written. See, he didn’t speak in a general sense of monsters, but he used the word monster; singular. Tell me who your monster is.”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“Do you understand what you’re asking of me? You’re telling me to let go of a threat to my wife,” he snapped. Like he would ever let anyone live that meant her any harm. For if, God forbid, anyone ever hurt her, he would make the world burn. Then another thought hit him. “Does Antonio know?”

“Please, Gio, just let it go.”

She should know by now that he wouldn’t, couldn’t, let go of something that was a threat to her. “Of course he doesn’t know,” he answered his own question. “If he did, he wouldn’t let him live, whoever this monster is.”

Her lips remained sealed. Stubborn woman. For a second there, he expected her to bolt, and he was readying himself to chain her to the bed if necessary. To his surprise, she gave a deep sigh and snuggled into him.

“I’m safe with you,” she said. “I’m safe.”

The second part felt as if she were talking more to herself than reassuring him of her safety. Of course, he wasn’t reassured at all.

Tonight, he would let this go. But come tomorrow, Jocelyn Detta, was going to wake up in a brave new world.

CHAPTER 25

JAZZY

Jazzy sat in her car before the front gate, when she found her key wasn’t working. The gate remained ominously shut.

A spark of worry fluttered in her chest. Hector didn’t look like he was coming over to tell her the gate remained closed because of a technical flaw.

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