Page 20 of Bellini Bound
I pushed past him, desperate to escape his presence. “Do us both a favor and stay the hell away from me.”
“With pleasure,” he called to my back.
My vision blurred as I raced through the maze of hallways toward my suite. As soon as I was inside, I flung myself onto the bed and allowed myself to cry. Each tear rolling down my cheek represented the hope leaving my body that I might be able to make the best of this bad situation. Because, for the foreseeable future, I was stuck in this quasi-apartment inside the home of a man I was legally bound to and whom I despised with every fiber of my being.
This couldn’t get any worse, but with my crappy luck as of late, life would find a way to ensure that it did.
Chapter 6
Enzo
ItwasamiracleI hadn’t already developed an ulcer with how badly my stomach had been churning in the days since I’d taken Allison—I refused to call her Allie, simply because I knew she preferred it—into the basement and forced her to put a bullet in Carmine’s chest.
The look of pure devastation on her face when she realized she was responsible for taking a life had twisted my insides, and they continued to remain knotted, causing me immeasurable internal agony.
Then I’d gone and taken away what was undoubtedly her passion—her job.
Though I would never admit it, I may have exaggerated a bit when I told her that returning to work was a security risk. While my review of the floor plans did expose several weak spots that our enemies could exploit, they could easily be shored up with some extra manpower.
Since her little attempt at grand theft auto three days ago, she hadn’t ventured from her room again. And she was definitely giving me the silent treatment. Something I’d been made acutely aware of when delivering atakeout bag to her door three times a day, never receiving a response when I knocked.
My stomach rumbled as the enticing aroma from tonight’s dinner offering reached my nostrils. Though I’d made sure to order in from five-star restaurants for the both of us, I desperately missed the home-cooked meals I’d become accustomed to.
When Matteo “hired” his now-wife, Summer, to be his daughters’ nanny almost a year ago, she began cooking dinner for them every night. And more often than not, I joined their little family unit like a fifth wheel, much to my cousin’s annoyance.
Fuck, I was practically drooling, wondering what incredible dish she’d crafted for them this evening. Everything she made was delicious, and I usually ate enough that there were never any leftovers.
But it wasn’t like I could sneak over there for a meal without an inquisition about Allison and why she wasn’t with me. Matteo would understand, but Summer and Bianca would pepper me with so many questions that my head would be in danger of exploding.
While the food might be incredible, it wasn’t worth that rare form of torture.
When I reached Allison’s door, I dropped the bag I held on the ground, retrieving the one I’d left earlier containing her lunch. The weight of it gave me pause. It was heavy enough to suggest that nothing inside had been consumed, and when I popped the clamshell container, it was indeed still full.
Now that I thought about it, I realized this wasn’t the first time she hadn’t touched her food. Hell, when I racked my brain to recall if there had been any indication that she was actually eating my offerings, I came up empty.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that this was her attempt to get back at me for telling the hospital that she quit. But what my wife hadn’t taken into account was that I could match and raise her level of stubbornness on any given day.
My fist came down on the door. “Allison. I know what you’re doing.”
No answer.
Another knock. “My schedule is wide open, sweetheart. I can stand out here all day and make your life a living Hell until you end this hunger strike.”
Silence.
Enough of this nonsense. To this point, I’d respected her privacy, but her immature act of protest was enough to forfeit that right, so I grabbed the doorknob and twisted.
Only, it didn’t turn.
“Allison!” I roared. “Why is this door locked?”
The deadly calm on the other side persisted, and panic skittered down my spine.
What if—What if I’d pushed her too far?
Sure, she’d been pissed as hell the last time I saw her, but growing up with Gemma had shown me that someone could appear tough as nails on the outside while they were suffering on the inside. My sister didn’t think anyone knew about her teenage cutting habit, but I did. That woman could teach a master class on masking despair with anger.
My heart dropped into my stomach, thinking that Allison might have been doing the same and she’d done something to hurt herself.
