Chapter Fifteen

Stefano

Darkness surrounded me. I couldn't escape the inferno of rage flowing like lava through my veins. Blood stained my hands and cleansed my soul. There was no guilt for the carnage. Moreau was dead, Byrne was dead, and his lieutenants were dead.

Ian's crime empire was being dismantled, one dead soldier at a time.

With Carmine next to me, we weaved our motorcycles between cars, pushing limits, and taking risks. It was the only way I could outrun my thoughts, and Carmine wasn't going to let me spiral alone.

Doyle and Clarke had turned on their bosses. Both Ian and Patrick.

They'd filled in the missing pieces on Patrick Byrne. He'd suffered a debilitating left-side stroke after the stabbing. There wouldn't be any more underage pussy in his future. The sick fuck had lost total mobility on his right side, and his ability to speak.

Jessie, the woman who'd helped him lure young girls into his web of deceit had died in the fire I'd started in his mansion. Good fucking riddance.

If he couldn't get me the information I wanted, he wasn't going to be any use to me. But I wasn't going to end his miserable life. Let him suffer with someone to wipe the drool from his mouth and change his diaper.

His reign of power with the Irish was over. Ian hadn't spared his brother. He'd used his connections to have Patrick stripped of any and all Briofagan holdings.

Those holdings were slowly converting to a new authority. Luca was the negotiator. My angel would become a very wealthy woman once her husband's body was identified. All that remained after a fire in one of Karas' shipping container were the unidentified bodies of three individuals.

If the police asked, I wouldn't know anything about it. Luca had his guys on cleanup. I had enough cops sniffing around with Celine's disappearance. She'd been gone a week. Seven fucking days.

Seven days of pure mental torture. Seven fucking days where I could carve my heart from my chest to escape the pain of not having her with me.

I'd quietly made contact with Marie. Charles would be cremated, but no services, no comments to the press or the DA's office, nothing more would be done until Celine returned. Marie was under the impression that she needed time to process his death and the damage his lies had done to a disturbed young woman.

I pulled the motorcycle into the underground parking of the bank.

Knox had sent a text. He finally had Ryan, Patrick's right-hand man.

I pulled off my helmet and stripped out of my gloves on the way to the basement.

"Don't kill him."

I snapped my gaze at Carmine.

"Not until he tells us the shit we need to know."

I entered the code and opened the door. Knox and Orlando sat at the table across from who I assumed was Ryan. He rubbed his hand down his face as he calmed his laughter.

Nothing was fucking funny while my Angel was in the hands of my enemy.

Knox twirled the cherry of his cigarette in an ashtray. "Ryan volunteered to come in and tell us what we want to know."

"Volunteered might not be the right word," Ryan said, his Irish accent thick. "More or less encouraged or end up like Patrick. I'd rather be dead."

He would be. I set my helmet on the counter and shrugged out of my jacket. "Start talking," I said.

"How far back do you want me to go? Patrick and I became friends in primary school. Chased girls and robbed a bank once for kicks."

"I want to know about his business with Isaak Karas. Patrick weaponized information. What does he have on Karas?"

He leaned back in his chair. "Patrick and Isaak had once shared a mutual interest in young girls, but Karas doesn't take unnecessary risks. Eighteen is legal. Sixteen is a felony. When Patrick went from hunting on college campuses to trolling junior high and high schools, Karas pulled out."

I rested my hands on the table and leaned into Ryan. "Ian discovered something in those files that linked Karas to Moreau. He used it to get to Karas."

"Patrick is obsessed with information gathering. Checks and balances. Or maybe a better analogy would be to say they were at a stalemate. Both with enough ammunition to destroy the other."

"What did he have on Karas?"

"Karas is sick. Apparently, he's sterile. No kids, no heirs." Ryan leaned forward. "A billion-dollar empire up for grabs."

"Fuck." Carmine and I stared at each other.

"Oh, it gets more interesting. This is where the Bruno family gets involved. I think you know a greedy bitch that would spend—years—strategizing a way into that fortune."

Giada.

"Italian pussy that has been passed around the Bruno family isn't going to do anything for Karas. He likes them young and blonde."

I processed everything he'd said. "But if Karas is sterile, why take Celine?"

"Because Ian made a hypothetical jump. Hear me out. Karas and Patrick fucked indiscriminately during college. Entitled pricks. They had so much fucking money, women would fuck them for a dinner and a night in the penthouse. They spent a lot of time on Karas' island. They'd take girls there to party."

I needed a cigarette for this.

Ryan continued. "A couple of years pass. Patrick and Karas still do business together, but they never socialized. They had a silent understanding. Then Isaak ends up sick from this condition he's always had, some blood disease. This time he has a bone marrow transplant that leaves him sterile. Patrick had a good laugh about it. He said Karas always wanted kids. Claimed he probably had a few out in the world, but he never gave girls his full name and never cared to know theirs."

Sweat dampened my armpits as Ryan spoke. I could feel the story unfolding before the words were out of Ryan's mouth. Celine had been sick as a child. Celine didn't know her father, and her mother couldn't name the man she'd slept with.

"Celine's profile is on the bone marrow transplant list, and she only has one match."

"Isaak Karas?" I asked, knowing the answer.

"No." A slow smile spread across his mouth. "But she matched to the same man who donated his bone marrow to Karas. Same genetic markers, same blood type. And if you'd seen a picture of Karas, Celine looks just like him in the face. Plus, she's blonde and petite. I don't know who her mother is, but my guess is she'd met Isaak at least once."

I raked my hands over my head and onto the back of my neck.

"If I'm Ian," Ryan said. "I want to be in a position to take over the Karas empire. I've just found his illegitimate daughter, but I know his greatest regret is never producing an heir to take over. He makes Celine his legal wife, then baits Karas. Karas bites, but you get involved," he said to me. "Karas can't get to Celine. He goes to the person he knows will take care of his Bruno issue."

"Some things still don't fit." Knox stubbed out his cigarette. "I'm still an outsider looking in."

"The fuck you are," Orlando said.

I rested my hand on his shoulder. "Knox, you're family."

"Okay, as someone new to the family, I have to wonder what Giada's play is. She sent the text, she shot Joe, and she grabbed Celine. I've watched the surveillance footage with Emilio. No way was she expecting the black car to be there. She was heading for her ride."

We'd nearly lost Joe. He'd have a long recovery, at least six months of rehabilitation, but he was alive.

Orlando tapped his fingers on the table. "Did she interfere with Karas' plan or did Karas interfere with hers?"

"He might be in bed with her," I said. "But no way does he trust her." Karas was like us. Trust no one.

Knox chuckled. "Dude, men in her life are like plumbers laying pipe. She makes them work for the rent. Pussy is her currency."

"Celine is a threat," Ryan said. "After the work Giada's put in, no way does she deliver Celine to Karas."

"Are you telling me Karas doesn't have her?" If we were right, and Karas was her father, she'd be somewhat safe. She wouldn't be with me where she belonged, but she wouldn't be subjected to the grim and twisted shit I'd had fucking with my head.

If Giada had her, then she might already be dead.

Fuck, I'd know if she was gone. I had her light inside me. When I closed my eyes, I couldn't sleep, but I could fucking feel the warmth of her hands on my body, smell the vanilla and wildflower scent of her perfume, and remember the blue of her eyes, the way she looked at me, the way she tasted. I could feel her love for me.

"Stef, no way does Giada openly betray Karas," Carmine said. "He has her."

Ryan nodded. "Giada was on the inside of a dynasty that Karas wanted overthrown. If she delivered the Bruno assets, she'd get the billion-dollar prize. But she can't deliver. Luca isn't dead. Marco has alliances with Adami, Cirillo, and Jilani."

Knox pushed away from the table. "Giada may want Celine out of the way, but not before she secures her position with Karas. She's not going to fuck up a billion-dollar payout."

"Karas is a ghost," Carmine said. "Off the grid. We need to find him."

Orlando spoke up. "Emilio can track his plane."

"It won't get you to him, but it'll get you close," Ryan said. "He has a private island, but I don't know where. He doesn't allow any visitors." He visibly swallowed and clasped his hands on top of the table. "Are you still going to kill me?" Ryan asked.

I shrugged. "I'm not but you had your hands on Marco's wife. I doubt he's feeling as forgiving."

"You can ask him later." Knox wrapped a hand around Ryan's arm and led him out of the room to lock him in one of the holding cells.

"What now?" Carmine asked.

"Get Emilio to track the jet. I owe your brother." He'd found her for me once before. I fucking hoped he could do it again.

Celine

Voices clashed just inside the breakfast room. Giada and Isaak once again argued. Over what, I had no idea. But then I spoke English and maybe five Italian words. Amore mio being two I'd never forget.

I wasn't concerned about getting caught eavesdropping, even though I was the source of the argument. Celine sounded the same in every language. My name coming out of Giada's mouth was spoken like profanity.

What she said to me when she'd taken me played on a continuous loop in my mind. I was a threat to her plans, and she was a threat to my life. Isaak hadn't left the island, but there would come a day that she'd eliminate her problem—me.

Sunshine warmed my face, a breeze drifted in off the ocean, and the sky was perfectly blue, yet I hadn't been able to curb my anxiety. Knots twisted in my gut. My chest ached with an all-consuming hollowness I'd never felt before. I continued to make deals with myself. Unfortunately, I was running out of reasons to bargain.

Maybe I was in shock and survival mode, but I'd been able to handle Deo's proximity. I just had to wait for the opportunity to escape.

Once a week, supplies were brought to the island by boat. Any transportation on or off the island was by helicopter. The Sikorsky helicopter sat on the pad, and the resting blades taunted me. I'd learned how to do most things on YouTube. I wondered if it could teach me to fly a helicopter.

Guards and staff for the house lived in the two other villas on the island, and the only vehicles were a couple of golf carts. Not that there would be anywhere to go. Isaak had everything he needed here. Gym, pools, a chef, house staff, theater rooms, tennis courts. He even had a bowling alley in the main house.

And now, there was a studio, but I'd yet to touch a canvas. I couldn't paint my pain. I didn't want to let it go. I felt it like a blanket smothering me, and yet I found comfort in the heaviness of it. I wanted to drown in the murky waters of my misery.

"Celine?"

I lifted my gaze to Isaak as he sat next to me on the white wicker lounger. Then I turned back to the hypnotic pull of the ocean and took a sip of my tea.

"You look beautiful this morning."

The blue sundress was just another bribe. I didn't want the clothes any more than I wanted to be here. In the two weeks, I'd changed. The sun had kissed my skin into a golden bronze, but it couldn't hide the prominence of my bones.

I'd always been thin, but I'd lost weight. I'd stopped wearing makeup because I couldn't stand to see my face in the mirror. Shadows darkened beneath my eyes, and the marks Stef had left on my body, the reminders of the way he'd kissed me, the way he'd fucked me filthy, had faded.

"You still won't speak to me."

"Nothing you say changes anything."

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "I received the DNA report. I had no doubts, and now, you won't have any either. You are my daughter."

My brows furrowed as I squinted against the brightness of the sun on the sand and ocean. "DNA doesn't make me your daughter. It means you fucked my mother." I glanced at him. "Do you know her name?"

"I didn't even know of your existence. Once Ian contacted me, I did all I could to learn everything about you. Your mother's name was Liora Nielson. She would have been nineteen or twenty when you were conceived. She died nearly ten years ago. I wish I could tell you that I remember her, but I won't lie to you."

I jerked my head around and glared at him. "Why not lie about her? Tell me you loved her, that she was beautiful, and that I look just like her. Tell me you've thought about her often over the last twenty years, and how much you regret not keeping in touch. I mean, you've lied to me since the moment I arrived. Why stop?" I slammed my mug to the table and jolted off the couch.

"She wouldn't have remembered me either."

"You're partially right. She didn't know your name, but she never could have forgotten you."

I could even see him when I looked in the mirror. She had to have known from my birth that I was the product of a casual encounter.

"My conception cost you a grand, and eventually cost my mother her life. You think I'm some gift to you from the universe, and I'm wondering what I did to deserve living in this hell you call paradise."

His jaw ticked with tension. "One day everything I have will be yours."

"I don't want it, and I'm pretty sure Giada does, so give it to her." More money came with more problems.

"That has been our argument. She'll come around." He grumbled, stood, and slid his hands into his pockets. "Giada isn't a complicated woman. She's loyal."

I laughed. "She tried to kill me."

"Giada is hungry for power, but not even she is foolish enough to threaten my daughter."

"You weren't there." For the past two weeks, we'd had different versions of the same argument.

"Enough. Giada is useful, and you'll want her at your side to run the Karas empire one day." He exhaled a frustrated sigh. "I don't want to fight with you. You agreed to give us time."

"And you promised me email access."

"I never promised."

"Your word should be your promise. You say things you don't mean. Never make promises you can't keep." I itched to antagonize him. Two weeks in captivity, two weeks apart from Stefano had begun to mute my memories. I listened for him on the breeze. Never be on the defense. "I should be able to trust what you say. Stefano taught me that."

His gaze hardened. "I warned you not to bring him up in our conversations."

"Why? You want to know me. You should know the man I'm in love with has never lied to me, never broken a promise, and he's never had to force me to do anything."

"You can mourn him while you mourn your husband."

A knot of fear tightened in my gut. "He dies, I die." A silent understanding passed between us. Tears filled my eyes as I heard Stefano so clearly in my thoughts. "My threats are more like promises."

"Love fades with time," he said walking away. "As will your memories."

"You gave me your word," I said to his back. "I want email."

He left me alone on the patio.

A few minutes later, Deo joined me. He stood at the end of the patio and stared out at the ocean. Beige pants billowed around his long legs with strong thighs. An open V-neck tunic draped his broad shoulders and flattered the taper of his torso. The breeze caught the thin fabric, molding it to his corded abdominals. He wore a gold chain around his neck and open braided sandals on his feet.

"You shouldn't alienate him." His voice was calm.

I wanted him to speak to me like Isaak did. To tell me to follow the rules and accept my fate. Then I could hate him the way I was growing to hate Isaak.

But he was my only kindness on the island. I'd even gotten used to him always being nearby. Maybe like me, he didn't have a choice. "As long as I'm a prisoner, I can't be anything but his enemy."

He turned to me. "Will you take a walk with me?"

I hesitated a moment, then nodded. I didn't trust in much about this place or these people, but I did trust the Deo wasn't going to harm me as long as Isaak was here on the island.

We followed the pathway to the shore. Deo slipped his hands into his pockets. The wind lifted his dark hair from his forehead. "You should try to understand him."

Deo was handsome, with brown hair and intense green eyes fringed with dark lashes. Wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes, and soft dimples creased his cheeks when he smiled.

"I know you're frustrated," he said. "But your father is a fair man."

I picked up a perfect, unchipped shell from the sand and ran my fingertip across the scalloped edge. The surf crashed against the shore. "Was it fair of him to bring me here? Is it fair to forbid me from leaving? Is it fair for him to threaten to kill Stefano?"

Deo tossed a pebble into the waves. "It's unreasonable for you to expect your father to support a romantic liaison between his daughter and his enemy. You need to let your infatuation with Stefano Bruno be part of your past. Here, with us, is where you belong."

"Why do you care?" Because he seemed determined to keep me here as well. Giada was clearly close to Isaak, but he hadn't kept me close to her the way he seemed determined for me to spend time with Deo. Maybe I was a skeptic, but Deo made it too easy to talk to him, too easy to perhaps spill tea on the Bruno family.

Clearly, Isaak Karas hadn't been able to learn that I could keep secrets. I'd survived living with a murderer. I'd counted down the days to my twenty-first birthday, and I'd carried pink gloss, a pink phone case, and a pink pen to keep from having a panic attack.

Our arms brushed as he paused and turned toward me. "I wish for us to be friends." His accent thickened as his voice softened. "Perhaps one day we could be more than friends."

The breeze caught my hair. He reached out and rubbed the strands, then his fingertips slowly slipped along my arm. Tingles of fear chased over my flesh, the feeling like the poison threat of deadly spiders. I froze, afraid that one wrong move would sink their venomous fangs deep into my veins.

I took a step back from him.

"What do you do for my father?" I nearly choked on the word. It was the first time I'd really felt the truth of them. Isaak Karas was my father. Had I always known, maybe I would have been raised to hate the Bruno family as well.

"Whatever he asks of me?"

I took another step away from him. I was beginning to feel more than uncomfortable. Those barbed wire binds of panic tightened painfully on my chest.

"I don't believe anything he says." And I needed to be careful. Deo wasn't my friend. Like Isaak, he was my jailer.

"Celine, we all have regrets in life. He's trying to ensure you aren't another one for him."

I started walking down the beach again. "You don't earn trust and loyalty with coercion."

"I can help. Tell me what you need."

I cast a quick glance at him. "Access to email."

He rested a hand on my shoulder stopping me. "I want your trust, Celine." He stood with his feet shoulder width apart and slid his hands into his pockets.

We stared at each other, him with a pensive tilt to his mouth, me with a flutter of hope in my chest.

"If I agree, I want your promise that you won't contact Stefano or anyone with a connection to the Bruno family. You won't contact Marie."

My heart began to pound.

"Presley is a nice girl. Too outspoken."

My tummy flipped, and the sick feeling spread through me. "I promise. I won't email outside of my school portal."

"I'll talk with Isaak." He took a step toward me. "I'll protect you with my life, but I'll kill anyone who threatens Isaak. Do we understand each other?"

I understood perfectly. I had no allies on the island, but the list of those who would kill me just grew by one.