Chapter 32

Trying to get away from my dark thoughts, I took a large gulp of my sister's expensive wine, but I barely tasted the different notes of cherry and chocolate or how smooth it was on my tongue, because no matter how much I tried to run away from it, I was beginning to think my mother was right. I'd barely graduated high school. Never went to college—not because I couldn't afford it, which was true, but because I just didn't want to. I could get jobs, but had a hard time keeping them, either because I got bored or I got fired. And if Nicole hadn't hired me to be her lackey, I probably would've ended up out on the street by now.

However, that didn't mean I had to put up with my sister's abuse anymore. Every word she directed toward me, every little thing she conned me into doing for her, every time she looked down her nose at me...

No. I was fucking done. I might not be as charming as her, or as smart as her, or even as sexy as her—because I was a bit "thicker" as Mom loved to remind me, despite the fact we were identical twins—but I was worth something to somebody. Somewhere.

And maybe if I got the hell away from my sister, I'd start believing that.

I heard the click of the front door and swung my head in that direction, frowning as I waited for the room to right itself again. Maybe the wine hadn't been such a good idea. But then again, maybe it would give me the courage to say what I had to say without giving Nicole the opportunity to make me doubt my own words, as she tended to do.

Setting my wine glass next to the nearly empty bottle, I got to my feet and unconsciously pushed back my shoulders and raised my chin. Taking a deep breath, I turned to face my only sibling, my twin, who I both loved and hated in equal measure. Well, maybe like sixty/forty.

Seventy/thirty?

I waited to hear the heels she always wore clacking across the stained concrete floors as she waltzed into the room with her usual air of selfimportance, arms full of shopping bags since it was Saturday and she always shopped on the weekends unless she was on set. When I didn't hear anything, I sidestepped my way out from between the couch and the coffee table and walked over to the center of the room so I could see the front door.

A tall, good-looking man with dark hair and a short beard stood just out of view of where I'd been sitting. He was wearing a tailored, nondescript suit that would easily blend in with all of the other businessmen working in the city. Behind him was another man dressed much the same, only his black hair stuck straight up on his head. Sunglasses hid his eyes and a five o'clock shadow covered his hard jaw. He was even taller than the other guy. Neither one looked surprised to see me.

Could one of these guys be the fiancé I'd yet to meet?

My normal cautious nature dulled by the wine, I threw my hands in the air as if to say, "Finally!", smiled, and walked toward them. When I got close enough to shake the hand of the first one, I opened my mouth to introduce myself to my new brother-in-law...

And had a piece of cloth stuffed into it. Before I could spit it out or get my limbs to coordinate with what my brain was trying to tell me to do, suit number two was behind me, tying a gag around my head. My fight-or-flight instinct didn't fully kick in until a black hood was pulled down over my face. When my arms were pulled behind my back, I threw my body weight into the guy behind me, throwing him off balance as I kicked out at the one in front of me. My flip-flop met nothing but empty air though, and I was caught before I could fall to the floor and get the hood off my head.

"I didn't want to do this," one of them muttered.

A hand came up under my hood and a cloth was pressed to my nose and mouth. It smelled sweet and slightly like chemicals, and I tried to breathe through my mouth, but the gag made it impossible. I moaned as my head began to swim.

And then I knew nothing else.

LUCA

I turned from the wall of glass that made up the back of my home and watched as Enzo—one of the only two people I trusted most in the world —carried in Mario’s new fiancée and laid her carefully on my black leather couch. Anyone who saw how gently he handled her would think he actually had a heart beating in that chest, but I knew better.

I finished the whiskey in my hand and set the glass down on the small coffee table in the center of the group of chairs that made up the sitting area, ignoring the twinge of disloyalty in my chest. "Did anyone see you?" I asked him.

Enzo took off his sunglasses—his way of showing respect—and shook his head. "Nah. We're good."

"Are you absolutely sure about that? Not even our own guards outside? Or

Mario's? No one can know she's here just yet."

He gave me a sharp nod. "I made sure of it."

"And Tristan..."

"Took the car to get cleaned."

I grunted my approval. When Mario figured out she was gone, he would stop at nothing to find her. Not because he loved her, but because he hated having anything he considered his taken from him. We were much alike in that way. And I had no doubt he'd eventually figure out exactly where his precious bride-to-be had gone, but not until I wanted him to. Not until I was ready. Not until Nicole Calbert was loyal to me.

And only me.

I pulled my cell phone out of my inside jacket pocket and called my father, the only other person who knew about my plan, as we didn’t want this to get out to the rest of the family just yet. He answered on the second ring.

"I've got her," I told him before he could say anything.

"Any witnesses?"

"No."

"Good." He hung up.

I slid my phone back into my pocket and picked up my whiskey glass, raising it halfway to my lips before I remembered it was empty and set it back on the counter, the underlying tone in my father's voice ringing in my ears. Running my finger along the rim of my glass, I was careful not to show my emotions to Enzo, although he knew me well enough that hiding anything from him was near impossible.

My father expected me to fuck this up. And after what had happened the last time I'd dealt with Mario, I didn't blame him. But what he didn't know was that I'd been planning this revenge for years. Fucking years. Watching. Waiting. Biding my time and planning every single tiny detail. I’d just been waiting for her.

I would not fail my father again.

My jaw began to ache, and I rolled my head on my neck to ease the tension, then turned back to the woman on the couch. My eyes traveled down her body, exposed as it was by how little she was wearing, the jean shorts and grungy T-shirt looking like she'd pulled them out of a donation bin. She was just as I remembered from the last time I'd seen her, only five days before, small compared to myself and Enzo, tan, curvy...all legs, hips, and tits. A body that deserved to be wrapped in the finest silks and cashmere, not cheap, threadbare cotton.

Her hand twitched, and a muffled moan came from beneath the hood obscuring her face. Curious if she was really as stunning as the recollection of her that had haunted me this last week, I walked over and grabbed a handful of the material and yanked it from her head, thinking I had to be wrong. Women with bodies like that rarely had a face that matched.

Long hair the color of pale wheat tumbled about her face in static-y waves, sticking to her forehead and cheeks, and all I could really see were her pink stained lips stretched wide around the gag. Blood rushed to my groin as I imagined those lips wrapped around my cock. Reaching beneath my suit jacket, I pulled my favorite knife from its shoulder holster. But just as I got the tip near her face, her eyes fluttered open, shades of gray peeking between the strands of her hair. They focused on me, then the knife, and widened in horror. Before I knew what she was about, she knocked my arm away and rolled straight into me, landing on the floor at my feet.

I cursed beneath my breath as she hit my legs, making me stumble backwards and giving her just enough room to get her feet underneath her and stand up. Shoving her hair out of her face, she looked around with red, watering eyes, still disoriented from the ether, then yanked the gag from her mouth and spit out the cloth handkerchief.

Dammit. They should've tied her up. Enzo quickly moved between her and the door as I held both hands out in front of me. "No one's gonna hurt you, Nicole." I had no real worry that she would escape. The room was large, and she had a lot of room to get around him, but Enzo was faster on his feet than he appeared.

She blinked hard a few times as she tried to focus on me, her gray eyes still hazy. I stared at this beauty before me, searching for some kind of flaw. With her naturally light skin and pale hair, you'd think she'd be all washed out without a ton of makeup to make her features more interesting, but that wasn't the case with this one. She was a rare one. Young, petite, with just the right amount of curves to keep a man busy. It was easy to see why Mario wanted her for his arm candy, and why he'd kept her identity secret from everyone.

Or so he'd thought.

I slid my knife back into the holster. "See? The knife is gone. I was only going to use it to take the gag off. That's all." I kept my voice low and calm. I didn't care if she was scared. It wouldn't change my plans for her. But if she tried to run right now, I'd have to catch her and force her into submission, and although I would enjoy the fight, it wouldn't really get us off on the right foot.