Page 23 of Wretched Choices

I eye him suspiciously before I take the folder and shift uncomfortably at the closeness between us. He didn’t leave any space between us when he sat down, and not even the coolness of the air conditioning can calm my heated reaction to him.

I open the folder and read. Turning the pages, my heart stops, my breathing quickens, and all the blood drains from my face when I see the last contents of the folder. This is my information, my life. Pictures of me in various situations at college, at work, with my friends. Detailed reports of my life since I came to the US. But what shocks me most is the last page of the report with proof of what I ran away from. What I wanted so badly to eradicate from my life. I fist the folder in my hands; it’s too thick to crumple, but I want to, like if I do, it will all go away. Salvatore’s voice returns my attention to him.

“As you see, this information is too good for me not to use. There are so many people who will give me whatever I want for this information.” A devious grin crosses his face as he observes me. He leans into my personal space, his breath touching my cheek as he speaks. “But I’m willing to make a compromise.”

The alarm bells in my head are loud. I look at him, my eyes searching his blue ones because I’m afraid to ask. When he doesn’t say what he wants, I swallow the lump in my throat.

“What do you mean?” My voice is barely a whisper.

“Before we get to that part, be aware that if you ever use any information you learn about me or my business against me, I will destroy you.”

He will destroy me?

What kind of man wants to make a compromise with a threat? There is screaming inside my head, but before I can wrap my head around the situation, he continues.

“Do you understand?” His cold, firm voice sends chills down my body.

Averting my eyes from him, I bite down on my lip, debating my answer. I can feel his stare deep down in my core. The heat of his gaze is like a magnet, and I look at him.

“Yes.” I don’t even recognize my shaky voice. But I don’t dwell on that, as I’m drowning in his intense look.

“This will benefit us both, Bella.” I close my eyes to the pet name. Only one person used to call me that. The one person I swore not to become.

“Does the name Federico Sabatini mean anything to you?” My whole body stiffens and my eyes pop wide open. He doesn’t miss my reaction. “Ah, so you know him. Well, I have to find who he is in a less-than-pleasant way as he sent men to threaten me.”

A thousand questions pop into my head. But the few that interest me the most are how are the two men connected? And what the heck does Federico want from Salvatore? Is Federico here? If he is, would he recognize me?

I didn’t know Federico that well. I met him a few times for a couple of minutes and saw him from a distance. That was it. I don’t have to ask questions because Salvatore keeps speaking.

He leans back into his seat, his eyes on the wall opposite us where a dartboard hangs. “He wants something from me. Something I will never give him, no matter the cost.”

I sober and find my strength again. I shift a little in my seat. “What does he want?”

He chuckles darkly. “My business. My family.”

I shake my head slightly. “What does that mean? What does family business mean?” I don’t debate my next question because we are already long past that since he knows my real name and who my father is. “Is the family what I think it is?”

He stays silent as he looks at me, like he’s debating his answers. “Family business is just that. Family. Something I try to separate from my business. The rest you shouldn’t worry about.”

“So, you’re the don of La Cosa Nostra.” I lean forward, my forearms on my knees.

For a second, amusement flickers in his eyes. “You weren’t sure before?”

“No. I’ve been searching and found nothing other than a few blog articles from an allegedly angry, fired editor. You have been very successful at hiding who you are.”

“I learned from the best,” Salvatore explains, killing the momentum of my inner celebration that I was right by taking a piece of my caramel hair between his fingers and playing with it. I still, his closeness taking me back to that night. My heart skips a beat.

“Back to our compromise.” His smooth voice vibrates through my body, making me want to run far away from him. “I will give you two choices. I would advise you to choose wisely.” His warning slices through my bones. “Because sometimes, choices can bring our downfall.” He takes the same strand of the hair that was between his fingers and brings it to his nose, inhaling the scent. His features change and his eyes darken before turning his attention back to me. “Choice number one, I send you back to your father. I negotiate my terms with him that include his foster son Sabatini and getting him out of here, or…” he looks at me with a mischievous look in his eyes, “you marry me, and I make an alliance with your father. Either way, I get what I need. You, however, will need to decide what is best for you.” All the air in my lungs leaves as I stare at him, the shock of his words hitting me so hard that I can’t breathe.

“NO!” The word comes out of my mouth without thinking.

I can’t marry him. He is everything I despise. The life he is offering me is the one I promised myself never to be part of. There is no compromise in this.

I stand and pace the room. What do I do? I can’t agree to any of this. I will not accept it. My hands fly to my hair. Theattraction I feel toward this man doesn’t matter. Any possible feeling I had for him disappeared the moment I got the confirmation of who he is.

“Let me make this easier for you. If you agree to marriage, we can negotiate the terms. Unless you miss your father so much that you want to see him.”

I stop and turn to him. “I need to think.”

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