Page 93 of Claimed By the Possessive Mafia Prince
“Yes.”
“Well, we didn’t just happen to run into each other. He was in Veronica’s room. They’ve been in a relationship for a while, apparently. It’s how she got this job.”
“Fuck,” he whispers. “That means she could’ve been helping him.”
“I asked her last night if she knew where he was. She said no, and she swore to message me if she saw him.”
“If she’s scared, swearing might not mean much.”
“Please don’t get mad at her or anything.” I plead. “When this is all over, I’ll still need a job.”
“I thought you wanted to work with your mother again.”
She smiles nervously. “Newsflash: that costs cash.”
I almost offer to help her right now, but something tells me she’d be too proud for that. At least if I sprung it on her so suddenly. Or would she? The idea simmers in my mind.
We reach Veronica’s hut, and Siena knocks on the door.
“Yes–come in.”
“Dario is with me. He’s coming in too. Are you decent?”
“Yes,” she replies.
We walk into the hut together. Veronica is sitting on the edge of the bed, her laptop open on her knees. I don’t know the woman well, but she seems skittish, her gaze flitting all over the place, the laptop shifting around as she attempts to balance it on her fidgety legs.
I lean against the wall, thinking about what Siena said. I should question Veronica, but I don’t want to push too hard.
“You look like you’re feeling better,” Siena says, pulling up a chair and sitting opposite her boss.
Veronica laughs shakily. “I was never not feeling better. I mean, I wasn’t feeling bad. I wasn’t ill.”
“Huh? I don’t get it.”
“And I was never in a relationship with Rocco.”
“Then why did you say you were?” Siena asks.
“That’s the story he wanted me to go with. But the truth is, he’s a small, vicious man who bullies women and terrifies them with disgusting threats of what he’ll do to innocent kids, tomy daughter. He said he was going to… I can’t even finish the sentence. Then he told me I had to pretend to be ill.”
“But why?” Siena says. “What would that achieve?”
Veronica just looks at Siena.
“It was you, Siena,” I say.
She twists in the chair. “Huh?”
“Rocco must’ve told Veronica to pretend to be ill so that you would be forced to take solo control over the trip. That naïve prick probably thought that you wouldn’t be able to handle it.He was dead wrong. He didn’t know how capable you are. How passionate about your work. How diligent and hardworking. He planned for everything… but not for you.”
“Mr. Bianchi is right,” Veronica says, her legs trembling even more now. “That was his plan–to exploit the naïve young girl who, he hoped, wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
“All this time, you’ve been lying here, terrified,” Siena whispers.
“He’s going to hurt my baby girl,” Veronica whimpers.
I walk across the room, kneel so I’m eye level with Veronica. “Miss Lane, I swear to you, Rocco will not hurt anyone you care about. Not your daughter, and not anyone else. You have my word.”
