Page 28 of Mafia And Taken

I grasped both her arms firmly and prevented her from walking away. “I thought you said you couldn’t remember what you dreamt?”

“Does it matter whether or not I remember it? I just don’t want to talk about it.”

I could see the emotion in her eyes, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. “Cate, you know I have to find out what has been going on,” I said more softly.

She just looked at me stubbornly.

Damnit, I wasn’t getting anywhere with her. I didn’t know if it was because she was still struggling with her concussion and truly had some memory loss, but whatever it was, she was definitely not willing to talk to me yet.

She just needed some more time, some more persuasion from me. But Marco had said we needed the information quickly because the FBI was poking around in our affairs, and they were getting too close for comfort.

For some reason, I felt protective of her. She still seemed fragile after her time at the hands of the Russians. I carried on, trying to get her to open up about what had happened. “Cate, please talk to me and let me help you.”

“I just want to forget about what happened and forget about the Fratellanza. Why should I help you? You’re all the same—criminals with black hearts.” Her voice dripped with hate and condemnation.

I was under no illusions about the Fratellanza and I knew what I was. I had never pretended to be a good man. However, her refusal to talk to me, her refusal to let me help her, made the fury rise up in my veins. I was getting nowhere with her.

“Let’s go.” I took her arm, and we headed back toward the mansion.

But instead of going inside, I walked her past our enormous statue of the Virgin Mary toward our garage block.

“Do you need your car? Are we going somewhere?” she asked with a clear note of panic in her voice. She already knew what lay behind the cars in our garage.

“I know your father betrayed us with the Russians. I need the details—what did they say and what did they want? What was your father up to? Who else was he working with?”

But she refused to answer and stayed silent. Her unresponsiveness enraged me, as did the betrayal by her family—loyalty was everything in the Mafia.

I didn’t say anything further. I tugged her along behind me as I walked past the various sports cars and SUVs lined up in the garage toward the door at the back. I entered the security code into the keypad and the door beeped open.

I’d always thought that the beep and the sound of the door opening must sound ominous to enemies. But today it sounded ominous even to me. I was afraid of what would happen in there today.

As we entered the back area of the garage, her step faltered.

But I didn’t let her stop walking and instead I kept hold of her arm and impatiently pulled her along behind me. No one came willingly into this area.

I pushed her roughly into one of the chairs. “I need you to tell me everything that happened with the Russians. What did they say and what did they want with you?” My words were precise, and my questions were calculated. I couldn’t lose control around her, not of my actions and not of my emotions.

She just looked at me with her big hazel-green eyes.

My mind was a riot of conflicting emotions. The Fratellanza was my life, and I abhorred traitors. Maybe their betrayal wasn’t personal, but it still stirred up an intense feeling in me, like a knife twisting in my gut. I was losing patience with Cate and her repeated refusal to answer my questions.

I slammed my hands down on the table in front of her. “What has your father been up to? What else has he been doing with the Russians?”

“I’ve already told you that I don’t want to talk about it.”

I crossed my arms in front of me as my frustration grew, and I cursed under my breath. “It’s not about what you want. It’s about what’s good for the Fratellanza. The FBI is all over us and we can’t resolve the situation with them if we don’t understand what’s been going on.”

“So, you’ve brought me to your torture room to make me talk, is that it? Because mind games and sweet-talking me didn’t work? You’re just going to resort to what you know best—torturing the information out of people.”

“It wasn’t like that—”

“Really? Getting me to sleep in your bed and comforting me after my nightmare, telling me that I was safe with you? You’ve been playing me all along just to get information out of me.”

I felt more anger swell up in my chest. “Okay, suit yourself, we’ll do it the hard way.”

I saw her eyes widen as I took out a knife from my holster.

I had tried to avoid this, but she had given me no choice.

---