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“Fired her.” And then he rolled his eyes at Jill’s expression. “You think I’d hurt an eighteen-year-old girl for saying the word Mafioso? Ridiculous. That just proves how little you know of me. I am not a cruel man. I do not hurt people, or give orders to have people hurt. That’s barbaric.”
And still she looked at him warily, her emotions volatile as fear, anxiety and uncertainty flitted across her face one after the other. “So you really do mean to take me to Sicily with you?”
“Yes,” he answered decisively.
“And you won’t keep me from Joe?”
“Not as long as you cooperate.”
A tiny pulse jumped at the base of her throat. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’ll cooperate. You’ll do what I ask you to do cheerfully, pleasantly and immediately.”
Apparently she didn’t like the sound of that as her brown eyes shot daggers at him. “And if I don’t?”
“You will be sent packing.”
“You can’t do that.”
“No?” His dark gaze met hers and held for long, tense seconds. “You will be living in my home, in my country, among my family and my people. Who will stop me? Hmm?”
She inhaled sharply. “You can’t use Joe as a weapon against me,” she whispered, her voice failing her.
“But isn’t that what you did to me?”
“I was trying to protect him—”
“From me, yes, I figured that out. But Jill, what a serious, terrible, tactical error.”
Her gaze searched his, a deep line of worry between her eyebrows. “And if I cooperate for seventeen years?”
“You’ll remain with us, enjoy my protection, wealth and all the privileges of being part of the d’Severano family.”
“And yet if I stand by and cooperate, you’ll succeed at turning him into one of you.”
“You make us sound like a horde of vampires.”
“You’re not much different, are you?”
“According to today’s popular culture, vampires are in.”
“Not with me.”
“You’re anti vampire?”
“I’m anti bullies, thugs and thieves. I’m anti predators. Anti organized crime. Anti anyone who forces other people to their knees.”
“È gran pazzia lu cuntrastari cu du nun pô vinciri nè appattari,” he quoted, then translated the Sicilian proverb for her benefit, “It’s insane to oppose when you can neither win nor compromise.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “You’re either shockingly brave or stupid, Jill, considering you have so much at stake.”
“A great deal is at stake. We’re talking about the life of a little boy. What we do now will impact him forever.”
“Exactly so.”
“Which is why I can’t just roll over, Vittorio, and pretend that who you are, and what you do, is good. Your values and morals aren’t mine—”
He’d heard enough, more than enough, actually, and tuning out the rest of her speech, he gestured to one of his men, who then tapped the glass partition, getting the chauffeur’s attention. The driver immediately slowed and pulled off the highway onto the rain-lashed shoulder.
“It’s a shame that we couldn’t come to an understanding, but I suppose it’s better now than later,” he said calmly, knowing he was just about to destroy what was left of her world. “I did want this to work out. I think we could have made it work. Unfortunately, I can see it’s not going to happen. So let’s make the break now and be done with it. No point in dragging the pain out.” He leaned to the side, opened the back door. “Goodbye, Jill.”
Her lips parted with surprise. “What?”
“Your house is just a half mile back. Not far, but certainly not comfortable in the rain. Do be careful. The pavement is undoubtedly slippery.”
She crumpled into the seat, her expression one of horror. “Vittorio,” she protested, her voice strangled.
She looked hurt and bewildered. Shattered. But of course she’d be dramatic. Everything she said and did was extreme. But he’d had enough of her dishonesty and distortions. He despised lies and he’d worked too damn hard to restore respectability to his family to allow anyone, much less Jill Smith with her questionable morals and secretive past, to dishonor the d’Severano family.
“Jillian, come. Let’s be honest. How can we possibly hope to raise our son together when you dislike me so very much? I want him to be safe and loved, not torn between us. But you would hurt him. You’ve turned me into a monster and you’d try to turn him against me—”
“I wouldn’t.”
She was grasping at straws and they both knew it.
“You already have. You’ve lied to me. You’ve run from me. You’ve promised to meet me and then you never showed. But then, you never meant to show. It was just a ruse to allow you to escape. With my son.” He drew a slow breath, suppressing the anger and shame he’d felt when she’d tricked him following Joseph’s birth, playing him, manipulating him for months. No one did that and got away with it. No one. Why should she? “Joseph will be one next month and today is the first time I’ve ever held him. And you call me the monster?”
She flinched, visibly shaken, and her eyes looked enormous in her now ashen face. For a moment he almost felt sorry for her. Almost, but not quite, because she’d hurt him, humiliated him, and made his life a living hell.
His child. His. Kept from him. Who did that? What kind of woman did that?
He gestured carelessly, his tone one of boredom. “Do us both a favor, Jill, and step out of the car—”
“Never.”
“I’m going straight to the airport,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “We have a flight plan in place. I don’t have time to waste.”
She sat very tall on the seat, her slim shoulders square. “I won’t get out.”
“Jill.”
She shook her head. “I won’t leave him. I would never leave him.”
“And I won’t play these games.”
“There are no games. I promise.”
“You made promises in the past—”
“I was scared.”
“And you’re not now?” he retorted, mocking her.
Jill’s teeth were chattering again and she bundled her arms over her stomach, holding herself tightly as if afraid she’d disintegrate any moment. “Not scared,” she said from between her teeth. “Terrified. Please. Please. No games. No trouble. I will cooperate. I will make this work. I will do everything you ask. I swear.”
His dark gaze pinned her, held her captive. “I am out of patience, Jill.”
“Yes.”
His voice dropped even lower. “There will be no second chances. One misstep, one mistake, one small fib, and you’re gone. Forever.”
She was nodding, frantically nodding, and tears slid from the corners of her eye.
He refused to care. Refused to feel anything for her. She had it coming. Every little bit of hurt, heartbreak and misery. He’d trusted her. Had cared for her. More than he’d cared for any woman in years.
Twenty months ago he’d actually thought she was the one. The only one. The one he’d marry and cherish for the rest of his life. Which was absurd as he wasn’t the impulsive kind.
He’d never met any woman he could imagine as his wife, but somehow he’d wanted her.
He’d wanted to love her, protect her, forever.
And then she ran, and lied, and cut his heart to pieces.
“Whatever you want,” she choked, “whatever you say.”
She was practically begging now, and he’d thought perhaps it would make him feel better. It didn’t.
He’d never treated a woman harshly in his life.
He’d never reduced a woman to this. Nor should he have had to.
Vittorio could hardly look at her. Her lower lip trembled and tears shimmered on her cheeks. She made him feel like a savage, like the monster she’d portrayed him to be, but he was no monster. He’d spent his entire life healing wounds inflicted by previous generations. He’d battled to build back his father’s company after his father had been tragically injured and the company had been forced to file for bankruptcy. But he battled for his father. He battled for his family. He would prove to the world that the d’Severanos were good people. “I won’t take you out of the country by force.”
“You’re not taking me by force. I’m choosing to go. I’m begging to go. Please, Vitt. Let me travel with my son.”
Something snapped inside of him and he reached for her, one hand wrapping around her wrist, while the other slid behind her neck, his palm against her nape, his fingers and thumb shaping her beautiful jaw. “Our son,” he ground out. “He’s not yours. He’s ours. We both made him. We made him together in an act of love, not violence, and he is to be raised with love, not violence. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Brown or blue, her eyes were mesmerizing, brilliant with raw emotion. He’d thought she was everything he’d ever wanted. He’d thought they’d be able to grow old together. “From now on there is no yours or mine,” he continued roughly. “There is only ours. There is only one family. And that is the d’Severanos.”
She nodded her head jerkily. “Yes.”
And then because there was so much sadness in her eyes, he did the only thing he could think of—he kissed her. But it wasn’t a tender kiss and it wasn’t to comfort. He kissed her fiercely, taking her lips the way he’d now taken control of her life. She’d had her chance. They’d tried it her way. Now it was his.
The hard, punishing kiss didn’t ease his anger. If anything, it made him want more. Her mouth was so soft, and her lips quivered beneath the pressure of his. Angling her head back, he ruthlessly parted her mouth, his tongue taking and tasting the sweetness inside.
Jillian shuddered against him, her fingers splayed against his chest and when he caught her tongue in his mouth, sucking on the tip, she whimpered, her back arching, her resistance melting.
He knew the moment she surrendered, felt the yielding of her mouth, the softness in her body. He could have her then and there if he wanted. If they’d been alone, he would have stripped her clothes off her to prove it. Instead he stroked her breast once, just to make her shiver and dance against him, and then he let her go, watching as she tumbled back against the leather seat.
“Airport,” he drawled, adjusting the cuffs on his dress shirt. “We’re late.”
Approaching Monterey’s executive airport Jillian felt as though she’d swallowed broken glass. Every breath she drew hurt. Every time she swallowed she wanted to cry.
She’d failed Joe.
Failed to protect him. Failed to save him.
His life would never be the same now, and it was her fault. Her stupidity.
She should have never left him with Hannah today. Should have never trusted Hannah in the first place.
But Hannah had seemed an answer to prayer; perfect in every way. Her résumé showed that she’d been a preschool teacher with a degree in early education and years of experience working with infants and toddlers. Her letters of recommendation said that her family was local and respected. Best of all, Hannah was cheap compared to nannies advertising services in the paper which made Jillian jump at the chance to have Hannah come work for her.
But Hannah’s trickery was nothing compared to Jillian’s self-disgust. When Vitt kissed her she’d practically melted in his arms.
There were no words to express her self-loathing.
And so her heart ached while her mouth burned, her lips swollen and sensitive.
Nauseated by her behavior, she dug her nails into her palms. Hadn’t she learned anything? How could she respond to Vittorio when she now knew the kind of man he was. Her father had been the same, although he’d been affiliated with a Detroit crime family not Sicilian, but her father had been so ambitious. Her father’s ambition had destroyed their lives. How could she possibly imagine Vittorio was any different?
She couldn’t.
Pulling through the airport’s security gate, Jill caught a glimpse of a white-and-burgundy Boeing 737 on the runway. Vitt’s jet, she thought, her stomach free-falling. It was the same jet they’d flown from Istanbul to Milan, before taking a helicopter to the Bellagio villa at Lake Como.
Her stomach did another nosedive and she inhaled sharply, fighting hysteria, as the limousine pulled up next to the jet on the tarmac.
Vitt owned a half-dozen planes, including smaller jets, but this was his personal favorite. He liked traveling with his staff and security detail. He’d told her en route to Lake Como that comfort was essential while traveling, thus the jet’s staff quarters, two bedrooms, dining room, luxurious living room and snug but gourmet kitchen that could prepare everything from espresso to a five-course meal.
The limo doors opened and Vittorio climbed from the car but didn’t wait for her. Instead he walked toward the jet’s stairs knowing she had little choice but to follow.
Apprehension filled her as she followed Vittorio’s broad back up the jet stairs. What if Joe wasn’t here? What if Vitt had been just toying with her? What if, she agonized, moving past the kitchen and dining room to the living room where her heart seized with relief.
There he was. Her baby. Her world.
Joe sat on a quilt on the floor playing with colorful foam blocks. He still wore his sunshine-yellow shirt and tiny blue jeans and was laughing as a dark-haired woman stacked the blocks into a tower for Joe to knock over.
Suddenly he looked up, caught sight of her and smiled. “Mama.”
Jillian rushed to him and scooped him up into her arms. He was small and warm and he fit her body perfectly. And just having him in her arms soothed some of the fire inside her chest. She’d felt like she was dying but now, with Joe in her arms, she felt whole.
This child was everything to her. Life, breath, hope, happiness. And even if Vitt didn’t believe her, every decision she made was to ensure Joe’s safety, security and well-being.
Cuddling him to her chest, she stroked her baby’s soft black hair and then his small compact back. For the first time in an hour she could breathe. As long as she was with Joe everything would be okay. She could handle anything, absolutely anything, except losing him.
Aware that the others were watching, Jillian glanced up into Vitt’s face. His dark gaze was shuttered, his expression inscrutable, and it struck Jillian that in the last hour everything had radically changed. Joe’s life, indeed her life, would never be the same.
As if able to read her thoughts, Vittorio gestured for the young woman to take the baby. Jillian started to protest but Vitt held up a warning finger.
