CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

brAXTON

I stand in the shower and let the water roll down my back. Gianna is still asleep, and I didn't want to wake her even though it's mid-morning.

I heard her tears, and they ripped my chest apart.

It took all my willpower to stay quiet.

What can I do?

Tell her I'm in love with her too?

Oh, and how I'm running an operation which will soon expose the Baldassare's to the federal government. That her family took my cousin, and she's likely been kept in a crate like an animal without food or basic human rights?

Fuck, I wish she wasn't a mobster's daughter.

I wish she was a free woman not promised to someone else—whoever the fuck the guy is—and had shown me some semblance of disgust for what her family does.

But she hasn't.

A fact I can't forget.

Gianna has never had a chance in life to live freely and be all she can be. She lives in a cage.

I watched her at dinner and saw her reaction as she took in all the things that are out of reach for her. She doesn't believe it's possible.

It probably isn't.

Take me with you.

Then she told me she loved me. Jesus Christ, my heart exploded into tiny shards and cut me from the inside out. How could I do this to her? How could I break her heart... and mine?

The temptation to climb back into the Ferrari and flee to Manhattan, basically kidnapping Gianna, was right there. Right damn there.

Except, I need to find Amy.

And I couldn't ignore her other words. I wish it was not such a heavy price . There was a heavy depth to them, and I know without question they are her truth.

More than once in the past twenty-four hours, I've tried to work out how I could take her with me. Even the idea of it could get me killed.

Gianna knows that.

If you don't take me home, my father will kill you.

Choosing me would mean giving up her entire family, all her friends, and this life.

I love you.

I've never said those words to a woman before. When I do—the day I say those words—will be to the woman I intend to marry.

Not to someone I'm about to betray.

In a few hours, I'll be heading to the location her family keeps young women as slaves.

The haunting question inside my head is whether Gianna fucking knows about this. I may not voice them, but I feel it in my chest when I imagine her as the mother of my children, as I fill her with my cock. As I run my eyes across every achingly beautiful inch of her body.

Does she know what her father does?

I need to know if she is complicit.

And I need to know who the real Gianna is and who I'm falling in love with.

Goddamn it.

I shut off the shower and grab a towel. Then brush my teeth, rub the towel over my dark hair and walk back into the bedroom. Gianna is sitting up against the headboard, the room dim from the curtains still being shut, and watching me.

"Good morning," I rasp.

"Hey." She smiles, but there's a sadness to her. "Do you want to go out for lunch?"

"Sure. I will just check with your father and check the timing of our plans." I didn't tell her any details yesterday. Only that I would be heading out with her father's men to do business.

She nods.

I study her reaction.

Does she fucking know?

I sit on the edge of the bed and lean my arm on the other side of her, surrounding her with my body. I kiss her lips. "I think I'm free until dinnertime."

"Okay," Gianna replies, and suddenly I snap.

"Are you okay with me doing this?"

Her mouth parts and eyes widen, surprised by my question and abruptness. "Working with my father?"

I nod sharply.

"Yes. I wouldn't have introduced you if I wasn't. Brax, I need you to know I've never done that before. Guys have tried to use me to get close to my father. I hate it."

I narrow my eyes.

"Yes, fine. I was being selfish by doing it for you." Her eyes dip, and despite the situation and her not answering the question I'm asking, I find myself happy with her answer.

Somewhat, at least.

But with only a few hours left together, I'm like an obsessed man needing to know everything about her and how she thinks.

Who she is.

What she knows.

"Why do you want to leave with me?" I ask next.

Gianna's eyes dart away and the sadness returns. "You know why."

I take her chin. "You want to leave this world?"

She nods.

"Do you know what I do?" I growl out my question, my heart pounding.

This is dangerous fucking territory.

I want my answer, yet I'm terrified to hear it.

This beautiful woman has crept inside my heart while I was using and betraying her, and she's staring at me like I'm the man of her dreams.

When I'm her nightmare.

"Yes," Gianna answers, and my heart shatters into a million pieces.

She knows.

She's always known.

Her eyes dip away with shame, and I want to wrap my hands around her throat, tearing the life-giving air from her lungs. How could I feel this way about a woman who is okay with such evil?

Who selfishly brought me into this world so she could use me for her own pleasure.

She is not who I thought she was.

"But I want you anyway," Gianna adds.

I bet you fucking do, sweetheart.

I remove my arm and sit up, rage blazing within me like a hurricane. It's me who should be ashamed.

I'm a US Marine, trained to know who the enemy is. Not to fall in fucking love with one of them. I cannot believe I let myself fall into this fucking Stockholm type syndrome.

Just a few more hours of holding up this charade.

I hope Amy is one of the women in the shipment tonight. If she's not, then it's time to face that I'm chasing a needle in a haystack.

And that I'm shit at this undercover work.

I've done my best—now I need to get the fuck out of this world.

And away from Gianna Baldassare.

"I have some calls to make," I tell her as I pull on my clothes. "I'll meet you down by the car in an hour and we'll go for lunch."

I don't glance back as I leave the room.

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GIANNA

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W HAT THE HELL was that ?