Here’s hoping I can uncover them before they suffocate me.
I walk into the house using the back door key Kristina gave me yesterday once we got back here from the city. After a little reconnaissance last night, I found Anton’s private office tucked away off the conservatory.
I strain my ears, the rush of water from one of the upstairs bathrooms telling me that now is as good a time as ever to do my first inspection of Anton’s space.
An image of Kristina standing under the steaming hot spray pops into my mind.
Her long hair cascades down her spine as she lathers up her luscious curves, moaning when her hand dips between her creamy thighs—
Swallowing a groan, I shove the erotic fantasy into one of the many dark corners of my mind so I can replay it later.
Over and over and over since I pretty much just confirmed that I will have absolutely no chance to turn it into a reality.
I step into the conservatory. A large Persian rug covers the dark hardwood floor, the deep crimson, gold, and ebony fibers weaved together in a complicated abstract pattern that strangely mimics the clashing thoughts plaguing me.
In the center of the spacious room, upon all the twisted, decorative conflict sits a polished black Steinway piano.
I hadn’t seen it before.
And suddenly, I’m plunged back into my past life of horror.
“You play so beautifully.”
My mother’s pained voice whispers into my ear, awakening the repressed memory from my life at age ten that makes my spine stiffen because I know what happens next.
“Why can’t you play a sport? Something strong and masculine? Piano is for pussies.”
Savio’s hand grips the back of my shirt and he yanks me off the bench, forcing me to the floor. “I may as well have had a daughter for all the good you’ve done me.”
“Savio, leave him alone. He has a talent, like the one you have for destruction.”
“Oh, you think that’s funny, Isabella?” he yells, letting go of me and grabbing my mother’s arm. “He is useless. I wanted a son, and I got this pathetic, weak mama’s boy, instead!”
My mother cowers when he lunges forward to grab a fistful of her hair. I scramble off of the floor, a cloud of red coloring my vision as I shove him as hard as I can.
“Let her go,” I yell, grabbing a fire poker and holding it to his head.
He slowly turns to look up at me, a spark of a challenge igniting in his hard gaze. “If you do it, I will kill her. I will slice her up like a goddamn Thanksgiving turkey!”
I look at my mother, curled up in the fetal position, shaking and crying like her heart has just been torn from her chest.
“She’s not going to protect you, Massimo,” Savio seethes. “She never has. If I gave her a weapon, she’d just stare at it.”
I swallow hard because he’s right.
She’s never fought.
Ever.
“Don’t do it, mi amore,” she weeps. “Your father will always win.”
I drop the fire poker on the marble floor, the loud clanging noise reverberating between my ears. Savio releases my mother and stands up, grabbing the poker with one hand and balling up his other fist. “I am going to teach you to never disrespect me like that again!” he roars, charging at me with the poker. The only thing I see is my mother on the floor, huddled into a ball as she watches her punishment become my reality.
I grit my teeth, glaring down at the piano.
At one time, it had been the only thing that got me through those dark days, the only source of comfort available to me.
The piano never feared repercussions or threats.
It never let me down…until Savio had the guts destroyed in a fit of rage when I’d been invited to perform at an exclusive event at sixteen. I figured it would ingratiate myself with him, playing for a bunch of rich dicks who might let him into their world, a world I knew he’d vied to be part of since he’d always been a power-hungry, elitist, social climbing motherfucker.
I thought it would make him less likely to beat the shit out of me and my mother.
Instead, it had just the opposite impact since he couldn’t score an invite.
To him, my participation and his non-attendance was a slap in the face, and one he’d never forgive me for since I’d been invited into the world he had only dreamed of owning.
So he took it from me.
Every sliver of pride and accomplishment.
He stole the one thing that made me happy and destroyed it.
That was the beginning of the end…or so I’d thought.
I stalk past it, angrily flexing my twitching fingers.
I should have been smart enough to know a very long time ago that tranquility and peace have no room in my life.
I’ve since learned that very harsh lesson.
Which is exactly why I can’t ever invite anyone into it.
Because I am not the “what you see is what you get” kind of person.
I’m the “you have no fucking clue who I really am” kind of person.
That includes Savio.
I jiggle the doorknob to his office and let out a sigh of relief when I find that it’s not locked. I push it open, cringing when the brass hinges creak in response. I close it as slowly and quietly as possible before darting over to the desk.
There must be something in here that I can use against Savio, something that can release the noose he has wrapped so tight around my neck.
A mountain of file folders sit on the top of the ornately crafted piece. I flip through a few papers, muttering to myself when I see that they’re typed up in Russian.
Dead end.
I check through the drawers on either side, fumbling around for anything that might give me a clue about the murders.
What were you up to, Anton?
I pull open the bottom drawer and recoil.
Sex toys.
What the hell?
I narrow my eyes at the desk.
I guess maybe he used it for more than just business shit.
I grab a tissue from the table behind me and slide the toys to the side of the drawer. A groove in the wood catches my eye and I slide the tip of my fingernail into it, jimmying the bottom until it slips out of place.
Paydirt!
I flick the thin plank upward, revealing a hidden compartment that holds a single Manila file folder.
I silently fist the air when I flip it open and see Savio’s name on one of the pages.
I close my fingers around it, dropping it almost as quickly when I hear heated voices approaching the room.
“Shit,” I mumble, sticking it back in its hiding place and closing the drawer before I dive under the desk just in time to escape being outed by Kristina and that fuckhead Frank.
They’re standing right outside the door.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
When the hell did he invade the fortress?
And she was just in the damn shower a minute ago.
“I don’t like you getting cozy with him, Kristina. I saw you yesterday at that gym, how you were so ready to forget the fact that there are people out there who want you dead, the same people who killed your parents,” Frank bellows.
“You don’t think I’m aware of that?” she yells back. “You don’t think that knowledge keeps me awake at night?”
“Well, yesterday, it seemed like you wanted to throw caution to the wind for a chance to play house with that guy. He’s a scumbag just like his boss and you shouldn’t believe a single thing that comes out of his slimy mouth.”