Page 63 of The One
Her entire body goes rigid, and I think she’s stopped breathing. She stares at her clasped hands in her lap, her knuckles turning white from the pressure of squeezing them together.
The silence stretches. The vulnerability in her posture tugs on my instinct to puff out my chest and shield her from the world.
“Mariella,” I encourage her, reaching across the center console to caress her cheek.
Damn, her skin is soft. As my fingers glide under her chin, I lift her face to meet my eyes. They’re big and brown, and clouded with fear. It’s like a punch to the gut.
“You can tell me anything. You’re safe,” I try to assure her, my voice steady but urgent. I need to understand what’s going on and how to fix it.
She swallows hard, her lips disappearing into her mouth as she moistens them. It’s not a conscious gesture; she’s too lost in whatever turmoil swirls in her mind. My cock still stirs, despite myself.
She takes in a deep breath, then pauses, leaving me hanging.
“Mariella, please.”
She breathes in again before confessing, “My father cornered me just before you arrived.” Her voice is quiet, hesitant.
“Antonio is still in Rome? He defied orders again?”
Motherfucker!
“I wasn’t meant to tell you. If he ever finds out, he’ll—”
“He won’t,” I’m quick to assure her.
I try hard to keep the anger from my voice. This isn’t Mariella’s fault. And I refuse to let my frustration spill over onto her. But it’s becoming increasingly clear that Antonio is way out of line.
The thought makes my blood boil. Tiero and I need to have a serious conversation about the new position he’s all set to take soon.
If we can’t trust Antonio to follow simple fucking orders, how can we rely on him as consigliere?
But who else is there? We have limited choices.
Every second I think about Antonio’s recent actions, a tight knot of rage forms in my gut. It’s infuriating to consider he might not be acting in the best interest ofla famigliaanymore, that his motives are self-serving.
But when haven’t they been? It’s no secret how power-hungry he is. He’s always tried to advance his standing, but his actions have always aligned withla famiglia’s.
“What did he want?” I can’t help but grit out.
Mariella takes another long breath, her eyelids fluttering shut as if trying to block out the world.
Her internal conflict is clear in the way her brow furrows and her lip quivers as she bites down on it. It’s obvious she’s torn, weighing whether to reveal the truth to me.
I want to reach for her, to ease her burden, but I hold back. This moment is hers to navigate, and I need to know how she will choose.
I’ll find out the truth one way or another, but I much prefer her coming to me with it. Mariella is loyal to a fault. The question just is, who to?
She finally opens her eyes, but they don’t find mine.
Instead, she stares at her hands, her voice barely above a whisper as she says, “He wants me to…”
She hesitates, her breath catching. I can see her pulse racing, and a mix of fear and uncertainty hangs in the air between us.
Then her eyes lift to mine.
“He wants me to spy on you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
