Page 21 of The Don

I knock on her door on the off chance she’s actually awake, but when I’m met with silence, I push the door open to see her curled on her side. Storm’s head is resting on her hip, and his ears pop up as he lifts his head to see who’s coming into the room. He wags his tail once when he sees me, then plonks back down on Eliza’s body.

I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at my girl’s nearly jet-black hair messily sprawled on the pillow. “Amorina,” I say in a small voice, but she doesn’t stir. I reach out to touch her and Storm stands, shakes on the bed, then jumps down and stretches on the opposite side. “Amorina,” I repeat and place my hand to her hip.

“Hmmm?” she groggily groans.

“You have to wake.”

“Hmmm.” Eliza stirs on the bed, stretching her long legs before her eyes flutter open. “Oh!” She nearly leaps off the bed in fright when she sees me. “You scared me.”

“My apologies,” I say. “But you need to wake.”

Eliza scrubs her hands over her eyes before she sits up and blinks several times to wake. One of the straps of her tank top falls, and my eyes go directly to her cleavage. There are several small round scars that run across the top of her cleavage and between her breasts. My jaw tightens as I stare at the scars. “I’m sorry,” Eliza whispers and uses the sheet to cover herself. “Did I oversleep?”

I ignore her question. “How did you get those scars?” I ask as I reach out and lower her hands that have fisted the sheets. She drops her chin and presses her lips together. “Did Adrian do that?” She closes her eyes and slightly nods her head. That fucker has to die. I take a moment to compose myself. Although I want to tear him apart, I have other issues on hand. “I need you to get dressed.”

“I will,” she whispers as if she’s in trouble. “Where are you taking me?”

“Nowhere,” I say with a little too much venom in my voice. “But, I need to tell you something.”

“Are you giving me back to him?” Her terrified voice quivers.

“Absolutely not.” He’ll never get his hands on Eliza again. He lost the rights to touch her the first time he beat the shit out of her.

Eliza takes several breaths, and when she’s calmer, she lifts her chin and raises the sheet beneath her neck. “I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong? I can do better.”

“No, not at all. First, Storm needs to go outside. But in about an hour or so I’m going to be raided by the FBI.”

Eliza’s eyes widen and her lips part. A small, audible, “Oh,” escapes her lips. “Because of me?”

“It has nothing to do with you. Because of who I am.” She nods her head and averts her eyes. “I need you dressed.”

“Yes, okay. Yes.” Her brows draw in tight. “What do you want me to say to them?”

I should tell her to keep our secrets, that if she snitches, then her life will end, but I don’t believe threatening to kill her is going to make any difference to Eliza. The scars on her body tell me she’s been close to death’s door. “Whatever you want to tell them,” I say knowing she might be my undoing.

She turns and stares at me. Her blue eyes lock on mine. “I won’t snitch. Not on you,” she says.

Relief floods through me, but the FBI can be quite persuasive with their words and ways. They might promise her immunity, a new identity, or threaten her. Anything to get what they want. I hope she doesn’t say anything, and if she does, I’ll deal with whatever the repercussions are. I lean over and place a kiss on her forehead. “I need you up and dressed. I’ll take Storm outside.” I stand and call for Storm to follow. I get to the door and turn to Eliza. “You can stay in my office while they tear the house apart.” I point toward the dog. “With Storm.”

She bites on the inside of her cheek but eventually nods. I’ll have to keep an eye on Eliza. Something like this might have the potential to send her over the edge.

I close her bedroom door and head down the stairs, where I see the shed is completely alight. Good. Dante has essentially destroyed any evidence the FBI may have been able to retrieve from the shed.

But that means I’ll need to build another. If it keeps the FBI at bay, then so be it.

I power down the desktop before standing and heading into the dining room. Eliza is sitting at the table on her own, drinking a cappuccino while staring at the eggs on her plate. She startles when I pull the seat back and sit. “Are you okay?”

Maria enters the dining room just as I recline. “Caffe?” she offers as she leaves a plate of bacon beside Eliza.

“Thank you,” Eliza says and smiles.

“Yes,” I answer her question. Maria leaves the dining room to get my coffee. “Word is the FBI are on their way.” Eliza’s shoulders slump and she lowers her head. “I’ll stay with you.”

“I’m scared.”

“Of them?”

“I don’t know what to expect.”

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