Page 45 of Wretched Choices

Something always pulled me back here. Back to him, even if he was avoiding me. He wanted to show me who he really was, and I wanted to solve the puzzle that had been taking over my mind since the first day I met him. I wanted to see the lengths he would go to, but we were interrupted.

There is something between us, and it isn’t just the deal we made.

I’ve met a couple of men since I came here. I went on dates; I searched for the connection and love I promised my mama I would. But something was missing, and I couldn’t find it.

I filled my time with taking down scum that corrupt cops couldn’t.

I found a purpose, so I didn’t feel empty.

That all went down the drain the moment he touched me. My need to find out more about him had nothing to do with me wanting to take him down because I suspected he was a mafia don. No, it had to do with the way he made me feel that night in his office and again in my apartment.

“You were avoiding me,” I say.

He finishes his drink before narrowing his eyes at me. “You did the same.”

Feeling strong, I walk toward him. “I did.” I stop when I reach him. I wait. For what, I don’t know. Maybe an apology, but will I get one?

We stand like that for a while, and you could cut the tension with a knife. He speaks first.

“What I did was wrong, and I apologize. I unleashed my anger on you. It won’t happen again.”

I stare at him, observing him like a schoolteacher does a troubled student.

“What made you angry?” I ask, not accepting his apology yet.

He takes a step toward me. “Are you seriously asking? We were shot at. I got injured. And you ask me why I was angry?”

I shake my head. “You came back stained with blood. You came back a different person.”

“Do not analyze me, Isabella. You don’t know me. There is more to me than I let you see. That is all you need to know. Don’t make me hurt you.”

“Is that right? Do you want to hurt me? Or is that just a way to keep me quiet so you don’t have to explain yourself?”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I’m not playing this game, Isabella.” He takes a step back and tries to pass me.

Before he can escape, I add, “Avoiding me will not change how you feel. You can’t avoid me forever.”

He turns from the entrance of his room. “True, but before I come close to you again, I need to tame my monsters or you will get hurt.”

I look at the phone that has been ringing all day. The number is not local, and I know who it is. That’s the reason I’m avoiding answering it.

I need some answers from Salvatore before I even think of answering that call. It rings again; I groan and turn the damn thing off. I may as well pack my things and go home for the day.

Home for now.

But Salvatore will not be there, and I need these calls to stop. Since he is my ally of sorts, I need his help. Even if he doesn’t want to talk to me. What he said earlier this week made me want to know more about his demons, and I hate myself for wanting that.

He trapped me in this and brought back my own demons, but still, I need his help.

It’s almost ten p.m. when I pack my stuff and make my way toward the SUV where Valentino, a tall and bulky man with an emotionless face and dark eyes is waiting for me.

He doesn’t enter the offices; there is enough security there. However, he has live images provided by Hall Media on his screen in his SUV. How did he get access? I can only imagine.

I stop in front of him. “Do you know where I can find Salvatore?”

“Probably at the club, but I will need to ask him if I can bring you there first.”

I laugh at that. “I’m not a child. I can go wherever I want.” I pass him and go to my silver BMW. Turning the engine on, I drive toward my destination. I probably should have listened to him, but I don’t care.

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