39. Chapter 39

39

Ilaria: Soren and I are over.

Noe: [surprise face] What happened? We were just talking about this yesterday.

Emmy: I'm so sorry, sweetie.

Ilaria: There was a family emergency. He decided our fling was too much of a distraction and that he needed to focus on his priorities.

Emmy: Are you okay?

Ilaria: Not so much right now, but I will be. I knew this was coming. Not quite this soon, but it's not a surprise.

Noe: If you need some wine therapy later, let us know. I'll supply the therapy.

D read pooled in Ilaria's stomach the instant she woke up.

If only she had stayed asleep longer She wanted to be blessedly numb.

It had been an amazing few weeks. She had always considered herself a positive person, but these last few weeks she had been truly happy.

Weren't there magazines that claimed that the modern woman didn't need a man to be happy? She was convinced of that herself. Yet she couldn't deny that when she was with Soren—when he accepted her completely—she felt complete.

Or maybe this was just more psychobabble. Ilaria could almost hear a therapist in her head saying, "If you accept yourself completely, you will feel complete."

Ugh. There was nothing more annoying than fielding the different sides of conversations she had with herself.

But if she could have benefited from a therapist's analysis, then so did Soren. He was convinced that his happiness was irrelevant, as long as the people around him were happy. If he didn't believe that he mattered, and that he deserved to be happy—and in fact seemed to relish his martyr role—then who was she to try to convince him otherwise?

Ilaria dragged herself out of bed, determined to move forward like she had resolved she would do. She put on a pot of coffee—extra strong. She took a cold shower to clear out the cobwebs in her head. And decided that instead of focusing on Soren, she would work out her frustration at the gym and then get some much-needed work done at the office. She filled her coffee mug, grabbed her laptop and gym bags, and slammed the door.

Despite all that, her thoughts still drifted back to Soren. To his eyes that reflected more blue when he was relaxed and a dark gray when he was angry or turned on. To his thorough and attentive lovemaking. To his assuredness and certainty about his place in the world.

If there was anyone she wanted by her side when things got tough, it was Soren. And the fact remained that she would miss him.

Ilaria stopped in her tracks walking down the hall to the elevator.

Fuck. Not only would she miss Soren, but she was in love with Soren.

The emotion had crept up on her, the sneaky bastard.

Ilaria: Goddammit. I just realized something.

Emmy: ?

Ilaria: I'm in love with him. Despite all my efforts.

Noe: Can I tell you the truth? I think you were in love with Soren two years ago.

Ilaria: What? Why didn't you say anything then?

Noe: It didn't occur to me back then. It was only after we met him, and I saw the two of you together, that I realized it.

Noe: For what it's worth, I think he's in love with you too.

Ilaria: Ugh. Don't tell me that. I don't want to hear that.

Emmy: Maybe you should talk to him.

Noe: Yeah, you should. You might be surprised.

Ilaria loved her friends, and they were suggesting she do what a rational adult would do. But her immature self wanted to hide and avoid. She felt as if she were back in the same predicament two years ago, when everything hinged on what Soren would do.

Ilaria: You didn't hear him last night. He shut me out.

She couldn't go through that again. She had vowed to herself she wouldn't go through that again. Yet here she was, letting her walls down, falling in love with him, trusting him. Setting herself up for another heartbreak. She thought it would all be harmless fun, and when it was time for him to leave, she would be able to let him go with all the nonchalance in the world.

Anxiety clawed at her stomach as she got into her car and tried to take several deep breaths. They were here again—she had let him inside her walls, and he shut her out of his.

Noe was right: she had been in love with Soren even back then. Probably since they were teenagers. Which was why it had hurt so damn much when he rejected her.

Ilaria started her car and squealed out of the parking lot. At least this time, she was marginally more prepared. She might have still been in love with him, but she didn't hold any expectations that a long-term relationship would come out of it.

She was still sad—grieving, even—but she wasn't shocked.

And if she didn't learn her lesson this time around, she truly was an idiot.

***

Ilaria arrived at her self-defense class, raring to go. She wanted to be so tired she wouldn't think about how pathetic her love life was or analyze why, for years, she had been in love with someone who was completely unavailable.

Today, the class would be practicing how to get out of a chokehold. She took her place at the edge of the mat as the instructor demonstrated. Then the instructor called for everyone to team up. Ilaria turned to the woman to her left, Annie. and suggested they pair up.

Annie was a head taller than Ilaria and had muscles that suggested she worked out with heavy weights. Ilaria knew Annie would have her good and tired by the end of the class.

"Don't go easy on me, okay?" Ilaria requested from her partner.

"Okay," Annie grinned wickedly and cracked her fingers.

Ilaria pretended to be the victim walking down the street. Annie surged behind her and wrapped her right arm around Ilaria's neck, securing the hold with her left hand.

Ilaria quickly took both hands and pulled down on both of Annie's wrists while she squatted low and turned her head to the left to avoid being choked. Then she deftly maneuvered her hip to the right and swung her left leg behind Annie's legs. She released her hands to grab Annie's thighs behind her knees, picked her partner up, and dropped her to the mat on her back.

Annie lay there, looking stunned, the wind knocked out of her.

"Are you okay?" Ilaria asked, bending over her.

Panting, Annie grinned and nodded. "That was really smooth. I had no time to react."

Ilaria grinned. "That's the idea." She laid on her back. "Now pretend you're on top, choking me."

Annie crawled between Ilaria's legs and wrapped her hands around Ilaria's neck, pretending to squeeze tightly.

Ilaria shifted her hips and wrapped her legs around Annie's waist, crossing her ankles. Then she crossed her arms on top of Annie's arms, each hand grabbing the opposite elbow. In one smooth motion, she pushed her arms down, controlling Annie's arms, and swung her legs up to wrap around Annie's shoulders. As she lifted her hips while locking down everything else, she forced Annie's arms into an unnatural angle.

Annie growled, trying to hold on, then submitted. "Okay, okay, you got me."

Ilaria let go, and Annie fell back onto the mat, panting.

"My turn," Annie said after she caught her breath. "And don't take it easy on me, either."

Ilaria became the attacker in their role play. She then paired up with the male instructor and practiced disabling a male attacker by grabbing and squeezing his balls—without actually hurting the instructor, of course.

She spent a satisfying hour channeling her frustration toward would-be attackers, and by the time she was finished, she felt more calm and centered.

Ilaria drove to the office, where she pushed Soren from her mind and dove into work. She would have liked some company, but Silas was meeting with Nina at her home to review expenses.

She spent most of the day reviewing the reports submitted by the heads, making notes of the businesses that needed more attention. She would have to plan to visit those soon.

Vincent's reports were, unsurprisingly, sparse. Only the financial histories were complete because those came from Nina. The descriptions, the future projections, and the strategies were all thrown together haphazardly and seemingly at the last minute.

And going by what Ilaria had seen of Vincent's work while her father was alive, and Vincent's formulation of a new street drug, it seemed her father had turned a blind eye to Vincent's activities for years. Whether it was due to brotherly loyalty, or pity over Vincent's family tragedy, she understood why her father didn't ask too many questions.

But it had gone far enough, now that she was in charge. There was loyalty, and there was business. As she had indicated to her aunt Rose, her responsibility was to her father's legacy, not to continue misplaced loyalties and sweep problems under the rug. And Ilaria sensed Vincent's time was up.

As she finished up the last of her emails, highlighted the businesses that were the top priorities, and scheduled a few meetings, Vincent banged open the front door of the office and stalked to Ilaria's office, his husky frame filling up the doorway.

Ilaria was immediately alarmed when she saw him and rose from her chair behind the desk. Vincent's face was red and sweating profusely into the collar of his shirt. His thinning hair was disheveled, as if he had been running his hands through it.

But what struck unease in her was his stature. He somehow seemed taller, his back held straighter. Even his limp wasn't as pronounced as usual. He looked threatening, intimidating.

And he was angry. Veins in his neck popped out. His bloodshot brown eyes seemed darker than usual, the pupils almost fully dilated. They bore into hers.

"You bitch." The malevolence dripped from his voice and body language.

Dammit. Ilaria kicked herself. The gun that Soren gave her was at home in a safe. What was the point of owning a gun if I don't even have it when I need it?

"What's the matter, Vincent?" She kept her voice even and calm, holding her body tall but in a non-threatening way. She wondered if she could make an emergency call without him noticing.

"You are a little fucking liar," he spit out. He stalked slowly into the room toward her.

Ilaria remembered the pointed letter opener on her desk, standing up in a pen holder. She was only inches from it.

"You told me—" Vincent continued to stalk closer. "—that you believed Galen MacGregor to be responsible for your parents' deaths. That I was right. Which made me believe you were on my side." He let out a humorless laugh.

As he got closer, she could see the spittle on his lips. The pupils of his eyes were unnaturally large, and along with the malice twisting his features, he appeared to be a deranged lunatic.

"But I came to find out you were never on my side at all." His voice was low, dangerous, the calm before the inevitable storm. "You've been cavorting around town with his nephew, Soren MacGregor."

Ilaria's stomach dropped. Vincent had her followed. She should have guessed.

"How do you know?" she asked him. She wanted to keep him talking until she figured out a plan to get out of there.

"I've got people everywhere," he sneered. "Do you know how much it hurts to be lied to?" He paced back and forth in front of her desk, hands clenched, effectively blocking her exit. "Do you know how much it hurts to know that your own family has no loyalty to you?"

"Vincent, it's not what it looks like," she said, trying to keep her voice even. "I'm just keeping him close so they don't get suspicious about what we suspect."

"Stop LYING!" Vincent roared, his face getting even redder.

Ilaria tried not to wince.

"Even now you can't be honest to my face. First that traitorous brother of mine, taking Galen's side after my family were senselessly killed. Now you."

There was no way he was letting her walk out of here. She was either going to run or fight her way out.

"Family loyalty sure isn't what it used to be," he bit out. "You think that by pretending to be on my side, you were going to entrap me? Force me to make a mistake?" He leaned over her desk toward her. "I don't make mistakes. I don't trust two-faced liars. So even while I went along with your power trip, letting you think you were calling the shots, I was watching you the whole time."

Fuck. She hadn't given him enough credit. She had always seen him as a bungling idiot, so she didn't think he would suspect her of duplicity.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I'm going to finish what I started, of course." He chuckled. "And what's ironic is that you gave me an angle that I hadn't considered, but it'll work out even better for me. I'm going to stick it to Galen where it really hurts."

Ilaria's stomach constricted.

"You're going to come with me." His lip twisted in hatred as he stared at her. "Willingly. Or else I'll track down your boyfriend and kill him."

Panic rose in her chest but she tamped it down. "If you take me, Soren will just come looking for me anyway."

Vincent laughed. "That's the plan."

Her heart dropped. If she went with him willingly, Soren would be heading into a trap, and Vincent would kill him. If she fought her way out, Vincent would hunt Soren down, but at least she would get a chance to warn him.

Ilaria took a deep inhale to calm her pounding heart. Vincent didn't look to be carrying any weapons, so he must have thought he would just overpower her.

Well, let's see him try.

When he briefly turned, she saw an opening and made a mad dash for the doorway.

He lunged for her and grabbed her arm. Relying on her self-defense moves, she twisted her arm around so that her hand was in a position to grasp his arm. Then she rammed her palm upward into his nose.

"Fucking bitch!" He released her arm to grab his nose, which gushed blood.

Then she turned, squared herself, and brought her foot right in between his legs.

"Aaah!" Vincent doubled over with a gasp.

Ilaria grabbed her car keys and her phone and then dashed toward the exit. But as she yanked open the door, a heavy form tackled her from behind, and she fell into the glass, knocking the wind out of her.

Moving faster and stronger than she thought possible, Vincent held her wrists behind her back in a vice grip and hauled her to standing, his reeking breath hot against her ear. "If you run again, I will kill him." He pulled a zip tie from his pocket and deftly secured her wrists. She felt the barrel shoved into her lower back.

She panted hard. "You're going to kill him anyway when he finds me. And you'll kill me too."

"Only after I kill Galen," he breathed. "Now walk."

Ilaria reluctantly did as she was told, walking slowly to the front of her parents' house. Maybe Silas is back. Her heart sank. Silas's car was still not back, and none of the neighbors were close enough to see or hear anything.

Vincent shoved her through the last few steps toward the backseat of his SUV. He roughly tied a black cloth around her eyes, then pushed her down to the floor behind the passenger seat.

"If you do this, the MacGregors are going to declare war on you," she warned him.

He climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door closed. "Good."

Vincent didn't seem to care that he was going down a path from which he would likely never return.

The car ride was silent as Ilaria mulled over her options. What were the chances that Soren wouldn't look for her? Virtually nil. How long would it take for him to realize she'd been taken? Probably tonight. Despite their break up, he still had a job to do, and he'd expect her to check in. What were the chances he would come up with a plan before he attempted any rescue? Pretty high.

Feeling slightly more hopeful, she was suddenly grateful that Soren's annoying habit for an overabundance of caution would work in his favor now. Because if he got himself killed trying to be a hero, she was going to be really pissed at him.

Ilaria filled her air with lungs. It would not help to panic. Regardless of what Soren might do, she still needed to keep her eyes and ears open. The best-case scenario was if she escaped and warned him before he came for her.

She should have told him she loved him. She wished she had realized it sooner. Damn her own stubbornness, and his, and now she may never get the chance. Even if he didn't feel the same, she didn't want pride and obligations to get in the way of her voicing her feelings.

Twenty minutes later, based on Ilaria's estimation, she felt the SUV slow down, turn, and then stop. Then the SUV rolled forward for another minute and parked. Vincent got out of the car, opened the backseat door, and roughly yanked her out.

She could see nothing through the opaque blindfold, but she heard distant sounds echoing through a cavernous space. She guessed they were at the warehouse Soren had mentioned.

Vincent's hand was tight on her upper arm as he dragged her along inside the warehouse. She heard a door open, and his hand shoved her inside a room and into a chair, hands still tied and blindfold still on. He secured her wrists to the back of the chair. Then his footsteps walked away, and the door slammed shut behind him, muffling the sounds around the warehouse.