Chapter Ten

“Would you like a water?” Dante asked me as we lounged by his outdoor pool later that morning. After all the drama and excitement of yesterday, all I wanted to do today was relax, and Dante was only too happy to cater to my every whim.

“No. I’m okay for now.”

“Just let me know if there’s anything you need.”

I glanced at him from over the top of my sunglasses, giving him a lascivious grin. He sat in the lounge chair beside me, wearing a pair of swim trunks and nothing else. The heat had caused a bit of sweat to bead on his chest, making his skin glisten. I did my best to keep my eyes trained on his face, but it was nearly impossible to not ogle his physique — the broad shoulders, the firm muscles, the sculpted abs, the dark skin, the slight bit of hair disappearing beyond his waist. I didn’t think I’d ever tire of this man.

“Something I can help you with, Eleanor?” he asked flirtatiously when he noticed I was looking anywhere but at his face.

Placing my book on the ground, I remained mute as I stood and climbed onto his chair, straddling him. I yanked at the elastic securing my hair back and leaned down, shading his face. Grinding against him, I hovered my lips over his, the feel of his erection growing hard against me making my confidence increase with each second, each circle of my hips, each whisper of my mouth against his.

He grabbed the back of my neck, his eyes growing dark. “Eleanor,” he growled, his muscles tightening as I continued torturing him. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Good,” I breathed against him before pulling away. He kept chasing my kiss, to no avail.

“Are you trying to be a tease?”

Biting my lower lip, I gave him a coy look. “Why? Is it working?”

“You bet your beautiful ass it is.” He forced my head toward his, crushing his mouth to mine. He ran his hands along my frame, settling on my ass, his harsh grip flaming my need for him.

A loud ringing pierced the air and I leaned back, eyeing his cell phone on the side table next to his chair. He glanced at the screen, frustration washing over his face.

“You need to get that, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry. It’s a business thing.” He placed his hands on my hips and gingerly lifted me off him, kissing my nose. “I’ll make it quick.” He stood, then answered his phone, keeping his voice low, but I could tell he was speaking English.

My forehead wrinkling, I scrutinized him as he disappeared into the house. I glanced at my watch. 11:38 AM in Rome. That meant it was 5:38 in the morning on the east coast, and 2:38 on the west coast. Who was calling Dante so early?

I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I had a feeling Dante wasn’t completely honest when he said it was a business call. As much as I wished I could trust him blindly, I couldn’t, not yet, not after everything I’d learned yesterday. So instead of retaking my place on my lounge chair, I headed into the house, my footsteps delicate as I listened for any sign of Dante, doing my best not to alert him to my presence.

The living areas were empty, the only light coming from the sun beaming through the large windows. As I continued toward the staircase, I heard an obviously American voice crack over the speaker of his phone from down the hallway off the foyer.

“Mr. Luciano, are you still there?”

My ears perked up and I tiptoed past the staircase toward the source. The voice was low, gravelly, with a distinct Midwestern accent.

“Yes, I’m here.”

“I’m not sure why someone would feed you false information—”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Dante interrupted with a heavy sigh.

Desperate to hear every word, I paused just outside his office, a small gap between the door and frame permitting enough sound to escape to allow me to listen in on this private conversation. My suspicions that this wasn’t a business conversation grew stronger every second.

“Someone thought I was getting too close to figuring out what was going on, so they wanted to divert my attention. How did you figure out Cynthia Edelman may not have committed suicide?”

I stepped closer, holding my breath.

“It’s not much, and most likely not sufficient to reopen the case, but my guy was able to break through the firewalls and get into the secure server at Barnes Pharmaceuticals. He couldn’t find anything too suspicious there. But he did notice a forwarded email she sent to what we’ve determined to be her private account. When we looked into that account, we found correspondence between Ms. Edelman and an account registered to a John Doe regarding your phone calls about Sprylif. I’ll be forwarding them to you, but in a nutshell, she told the recipient of the email that you’d been asking questions about Sprylif again. That’s when the recipient threatened her, telling her to do whatever it took to divert your attention…or suffer the consequences.”

“Doesn’t it seem odd she’d use email knowing someone may find it? It could just be another setup.”

“She certainly tried to cover her tracks, but my tech guy was able to locate them. I could be wrong, but my gut is telling me this was authentic correspondence.”

“Even if it is, that doesn’t mean my father’s not the one behind it. He—”

“Mr. Luciano,” the man interrupted. “You hired me to take care of your interests over here in the States because of my ability to always see through the bullshit. When you came to me asking for help to get to the bottom of what really happened to your daughter, I was more than happy to help, but I was adamant that I’d follow the investigation no matter where it led me. You can hold a grudge against your father for abandoning your mother all you want, but he’s not the man responsible. I have zero physical evidence tying him to anything to do with this. The only evidence we had was a phone call from a woman we now know was taking orders from someone else.”

“Maybe he’s just really good at covering his tracks.”

There was a pause on the line. “I’ve told you. James Harrison has no motive. Do I agree with every decision he’s made in his political career? Certainly not. But I can’t ignore the fact that I have evidence of someone else being involved.”

“Evidence?” Dante repeated, his voice filled with intrigue.

“How much did Eleanor Crenshaw tell you about her parents?” the man inquired after a beat. “More specifically, her father.”

A sudden chill washed over me as I listened to his words. What was he insinuating? Part of me wanted to walk away and not hear any more. But I was paralyzed, unable to move, to blink, to breathe.

“Not much. Based on what I do know, she doesn’t exactly have the best relationship with either of them. It appears they simply had her to further her father’s political career, especially considering he had aspirations to be in the White House. Why?”

Silence filled the air, then the man released a heavy sigh. “I had my tech guy trace the email Cynthia had been corresponding with. Every single one had been sent from different public computers at various libraries in the Southern California and Washington D.C. metro area. One of the IP addresses was at a library in a suburb north of Los Angeles. I was able to get access to their security cameras. Much to my surprise, at the time one of the emails was sent from a computer at that particular library, a man with a gait and build identical to Francis Crenshaw’s entered the library, keeping his head lowered to avoid the cameras, and sat at one of the computers.”

I let out a gasp, quickly covering my mouth with my hand and peeking through the small crack between the door and frame to make sure Dante hadn’t heard me. My face heated, struggling to comprehend what this man was saying. It felt like the walls were closing in on me, my world spinning. I didn’t want to believe it. Not because I had some idealistic notion that my parents were good people, but they were my parents. While we’d always had a difference in opinion, I didn’t want to consider the notion that my father could have played a part in the death of this man’s daughter…this man I was falling for, this man I could see myself having a future with. How could we have a future when all he’d ever see when he looked at me from this point forward was the daughter of the man who destroyed his life.

“What exactly are you saying?” Dante pressed.

“I’m saying you may be sleeping with the enemy…or at least the enemy’s daughter.”

“Perhaps there’s some other explanation.”

His voice had taken on a pleading quality, as if he didn’t want to believe it any more than I wanted to. I’d never been close to my father, but this… I felt like I was learning about a complete stranger, a person I’d read about in the news who fell from grace. I’d seen other political families find themselves at the bottom after being entangled in a scandal. I never thought it would happen to my family.

“It could just be a coincidence. Who else is in the security feed from the library?”

There was a loud sigh on the other end. “I went to the library myself and sat at the same computer Crenshaw used. I checked the IP address. It’s a match. I tracked down security footage of the other libraries these anonymous emails had been sent from. Every single one of them—”

“You said it yourself. You didn’t see his face. I’ve seen photos of James and Francis together. They have the same build. Perhaps—”

“Mr. Luciano, please. I may not have seen his face, but how do you explain the fact that an exterior camera on one of the libraries picked up a car matching one registered to Francis Crenshaw?”

“My father’s good friends with him. Perhaps he’s trying to make it appear as if Francis is involved, not him.”

“Don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment. I’ve received a copy of Francis Crenshaw’s schedule and it checks out. The emails sent from D.C. libraries correspond to when he was in D.C., and the emails sent from California to when he was home. James Harrison was in D.C. at the time each of the emails was sent. I need you to get the idea that he is the one behind this out of your head. This new development points to it being the father of the woman you’re currently playing house with. When you called me earlier this week and told me there was something going on between you two, I told you to walk away. And I’m going to reiterate that same advice now. Walk…away.”

My breathing increased as I stared at Dante. I was waiting for him to agree that he shouldn’t pursue anything with me. If I’d found out the father of the man I was falling for may have been responsible for a loved one’s death, I certainly wouldn’t be able to stomach being in their presence.

“I just… I can’t.” Dante hung his head.

“You don’t know anything about this woman. She may have approached you on her father’s orders. She may be playing a part, too.”

“No.” He slammed his fist on the desk, his tone severe. “She wouldn’t. I approached her because I thought she could give me information. When she found out…” He shook his head, his voice trailing off. “No one could fake that reaction.”

“You’d be surprised. She was raised by a powerful political family. Lying is as second nature as riding a bike to them.”

“Not to Eleanor. She’s different. She’s not one of them.”

I pulled my lips between my teeth, my heart aching and filling with affection at the same time. He barely knew me, but knew enough that I wouldn’t be involved in something like this…whatever this was.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” the man replied with a heavy sigh. “We’ve started pulling bank records and tax returns to see what Crenshaw’s connection to Barnes or Ms. Edelman is. We—”

“Call it off,” Dante interrupted, his voice firm and unwavering, the commanding and dominating man returning. “Whatever you’ve been working on, stop. And tell all your guys the same thing. I want this ended. Now.”

My jaw dropped as I shook my head, unable to fathom the idea that this man was willing to do this, and for what?

There was a brief pause on the line. “You understand the truth may come out eventually. Like I’ve always said—”

“I know. I know,” he replied. “Two can keep a secret only if one of them is dead. And I understand my request that you stop what you’re doing may not prevent someone else from discovering what’s going on. At least I can sleep better knowing it wasn’t my actions that caused Eleanor any distress.”

“You’re certain about this?” the man asked once more. “If we scrap the investigation and pick up again later, there’s no telling what this guy may be able to bury in the interim.”

“Some things are more important.”

“Okay then.” His tone made it readily apparent that he disagreed with this course of action. “I’ll see that my tech guy stops what he’s doing and destroys all the evidence.”

“Thank you.”

Dante tapped on the screen of his phone, ending the call. He released a defeated sigh, briefly closing his eyes. After remaining still for a moment, he pushed away from his desk. I quickly straightened, padding on light feet down the hallway and scurrying back outside.

I was at a complete loss for words as I attempted to slow my breathing and make it appear as if I’d never left this spot. Overhearing this conversation was the wakeup call I needed. Over the past twenty-four hours, the fantasy of staying with Dante clouded my rationale and reason. That wasn’t reality. Nothing about any of this was. I’d allowed myself to listen to my heart instead of my brain. I had a mile-long list of reasons why I needed to go home, and all the things said during this conversation only added to that list. There was just one item on my list of why I should stay…Dante. I no longer felt that was enough.

“Hey,” Dante’s deep baritone cut through my thoughts as he rejoined me in the lounge area by the pool. He beamed a brilliant smile at me, acting as if he didn’t just learn my father may be responsible for his daughter’s death.

“Hey,” I answered, my voice clipped, lacking the playful exuberance it had earlier.

Dante noticed. He seemed to notice everything about me. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.” I looked at him, forcing a smile.

“Are you sure?” He narrowed his gaze as he sat on his chair beside me.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I responded, my tone becoming seductive to mask the uncertainty filling me. I needed to distract him so he wouldn’t ask questions. And I knew one surefire way of doing that.

Crawling onto his lounge chair, I straddled him, circling my hips, waking up his erection. Lowering my mouth toward his, my hair provided a curtain around us.

“Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” I pouted my lips, slowly running my tongue along my top one. “If memory serves, we were right…” I closed the distance, our breath intermingling. “About…” Even closer. “Here…” I pressed my mouth against his, biting his lower lip, eliciting a strangled groan from him. “You like that?”

“God, yes.”

I didn’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the disgust toward my parents for everything they put me through my entire life just to advance their position. Maybe it was the despondency at the idea that the person who gave me life could be so callous and uncaring as to be involved in the taking of another human’s life…a child’s, no less. Maybe it was the frustration I felt for not seeing them for who they were years ago, for still living under their thumb when I could have been free. Whatever it was, it filled me with a bitterness unlike any I’d ever experienced, and I needed to do something to extinguish the rage burning inside of me, to forget for a minute.

With determined fingers, I tugged Dante’s swim trunks down his legs, his eyes flinging wide open. I swiftly shimmied out of my bikini bottoms and lowered myself onto him, my nails digging into his skin, biting, pulling, tugging, as I fucked him hard, relentless, unforgiving. He matched my own fury, grabbing my face in his hands, forcing my eyes to his. And in that moment, as he looked at me, pleading without saying a word, I wondered if he knew I had eavesdropped in on his conversation.

“Don’t go,” he begged, gripping my hips with increased strength as he lifted me up and slammed me back down on him, each motion bringing me higher and higher.

“Dante,” I moaned, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“Don’t go,” he said, this time rougher, more callous, more demanding.

“Dante,” I hissed, my chest heaving.

“Don’t. Go!” his voice grew louder, violent, desperate.

“Dante.” I pressed my hands against his chest, digging, clawing, hurting. This was ugly and brutal and heartbreaking, all at once.

He grabbed the back of my neck, forcing my lips against his, his hold on me tightening, as if it would keep me here with him. But nothing would. Not anymore. I moved against him with more urgency, his tongue tangling with mine, his body intertwining with mine, his heart pounding against mine twisting me tighter and tighter until I cried out, every inch of me shaking violently as one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever experienced ravaged through me. He thrust into me again and again, his fingers painfully gripping my hips as he came inside me, marking me, claiming me as his. But I could never be his. Not anymore.

My breathing labored, I collapsed on top of him, my head falling against his chest, listening to his heart race in time with mine. Arms swallowing me, he kissed the top of my head, smoothing back my hair as he held me close, the affection in his motion in stark contrast to the way I just fucked him.

Everything came to a head at that moment. Growing up without a parent’s love. My relationship with Brock. The fact that he would have killed me if Dante hadn’t walked in when he did. I’d never allowed myself time to process any of it, simply brushing it aside and forgetting it happened. It was what I’d been taught since early on in life. Button it up and hide it away. I’d never allowed a single crack in my armor to show in all my twenty-eight years. That would make me weak. But now, the walls started crumbling around me, my throat tightening as I fought back a scream. Not because of my past, but because of my future, a future that Dante couldn’t be a part of, not with everything going on. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I now knew I needed to be on that plane on Tuesday, even if my heart stayed here with Dante.