Zane
I chuckled to myself. Isabella had spent almost the whole day in bed asleep. She was getting so lazy. If she didn’t watch out, she’d start to get fat.
I was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking some coffee and going over what I’d have to do that night. For one, I needed to get in touch with Jake. If we were going to make that deal work, he was going to have to get his shit together. I frowned, pounding on the table with a fist. The last thing I wanted was to get fucked on this deal. If Jake and I didn’t work together like Lionel wanted, my name was going to be shit.
I grinned when I heard the door upstairs bang open. “There she is!” I called loudly. “Miss Sleeping Beauty. I thought you were gonna be out all day!”
There was no reply, only the sound of Isabella’s footsteps thundering down the stairs.
“Someone’s in a cranky mood this morning,” I mused. “Oh, wait, afternoon. Want me to throw some bacon and eggs together?”
There was still no answer. I saw a flash of blonde hair pass me and I frowned when I realized Isabella was trying to get out the front door. It was triple-locked, and soon enough I heard her wrestling with the chain lock.
“Isabella? What are you doing?” I stood up and scratched my head, walking over to the door. What I saw would have made me laugh if it didn’t look so weird. Isabella was dressed only in house slippers and one of my button-down shirts. It barely covered her ass and I watched her long, tanned legs bracing against the floor as she tried to yank the door open. My cock twitched and stirred in my pants as the delicious scoop of Isabella’s ass shook and trembled underneath the thin fabric. “You forget something?” I joked, leaning against the wall. Isabella’s blonde hair flashed over her shoulder and she glared at me as she turned around.
She held something out to me that glistened in the low light. “What the fuck is this?” Isabella hissed in a low whisper. It was the locket my father had given me, the locket that had belonged to Gianni. Isabella was wearing the other half around her neck.
I laughed. “Baby, you goin’ through my stuff now? Don’t I get any measure of privacy?”
Isabella made a fist and swung back. When I realized she was actually going to hit me, I caught her fist in mid-air. Isabella’s swing was surprisingly strong, but I was much stronger, and I caught her easily. For a moment, we struggled like that. I was holding her arm a few inches away from my face. She wriggled and tried to slip out of my grasp, but I took a step forward and grabbed her other arm, holding her firm. She struggled against me and tried to bash her head against mine, but I ducked out of the way.
“Fuck you!” Isabella said. She reared back and spat at me.
I dodged, and started laughing. “You’re so cute when you’re pissed off, baby,” I told her mildly. “Come on, sit down, we’ll talk about this.”
I let go of Isabella’s arm and she kept swinging wildly at me. She swung too hard and crashed to the floor. Dropping to my knees, I grabbed her before she could make too much of an impact. She was red-faced and screaming, like an angry cat trapped in an alley.
“Come on, honey,” I said through gritted teeth. “You don’t have to fight me like this.”
Isabella struggled and made sounds like a wild animal. Finally, I grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head, so her body was flat against the wall. Her tits were sticking out, quivering, showing how afraid she was. When I tried to look in her face, she screwed her eyes shut and looked away.
“Isabella, calm down,” I said in a serious, solemn tone. “I don’t have time to fuck around with shit like this. Come on, tell me what the fuck is the matter. Take a deep breath.”
Isabella was hyperventilating and trying to gasp in air.
I shook my head as she tried to fight me again. “I’m really getting tired of this shit,” I said under my breath. “Either you calm down, or I’m locking you up in the bedroom,” I told her. “Come the fuck on, Isabella. I’m not a fucking mind reader. I’m going to let you down, now, okay?”
Slowly, I released Isabella’s wrists. She rubbed them with each hand, giving me a wounded expression and glaring at me with her icy blue eyes. “I hate you,” she said softly. “You lied to me from the beginning.” She held up the necklace again, then threw it at my head. I dodged and the pendant hit the wall behind me before sliding to the floor. “You always lied, Zane. You always fucking lied to me.”
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t,” I told her in a calm voice. “I didn’t lie to you. I didn’t know until after we’d slept together, until after this had already happened,” I added, gesturing to her tummy that was growing rounder by the day. “I didn’t know until afterwards. I swear to god, Isabella.”
Isabella looked at me. She bit her lip. “I don’t know whether or not I can believe you,” she said in a low, soft voice. “I don’t think I can trust anything else you say to me, Zane.”
I rolled my eyes. “This is total bullshit, Isabella,” I said. “Come the fuck on. What would I have to gain by lying to you?”
Isabella looked at me, her blue eyes wide with fear. “I don’t know.” She sniffled. As I watched, she crumpled on the floor until she was hugging her tan knees with her skinny, tan arms. “I don’t know anything. Everyone lies to me! I don’t have any family! I didn’t have a singing career! And now you’re basically holding me hostage!”
I frowned. “You think that ring on your hand means I’m holding you hostage? I’m hurt, Isabella.”
She glared at me but didn’t respond. “I don’t know what to think anymore,” she said flatly. “I don’t think I can be with you anymore.”
I walked over to the table, sat down, and patted the tabletop with my hand. “Come sit. We’ll talk.”
Isabella glared at me but she didn’t move. Instead, she hunched over more tightly, flipping her head down so she was hidden by a mass of blonde hair.
“Come on,” I repeated. “I’m not gonna sit here all fuckin’ day. I had fuckin’ plans until you came running downstairs like a banshee out of hell.”
She looked up at me and blinked. “I hate you,” she said softly.
“I don’t give a shit,” I replied mildly. “You’re stuck with me for now. I’m your baby daddy, remember?”
Isabella looked away. “I wish I weren’t pregnant,” she said softly. “I wish we had nothing to do with each other.”
I sighed. “Isabella, look. I’m not gonna say this again. We have to get this shit taken care of, okay? Come on, sit down and I’ll tell you everything. Yes, everything.”
Isabella gazed at me through a mess of hair. “I don’t believe you. You had every chance to tell me from the beginning and you didn’t. Why should that change now? How do I know you won’t just tell me more lies?”
I ran a hand through my dark hair and rolled my eyes. I was getting really exasperated with her shit, and I just wanted to be alone, with a beer, maybe in a strip club somewhere. I couldn’t deal with any more of this weak feminine bullshit. Isabella had already spent more time crying in the past week than I’d seen in the past five years, and I needed a fucking break. “I don’t enjoy this any more than you do,” I said icily. “I tried to make things nice for you, but apparently, that wasn’t enough.”
Isabella looked chastened. Finally, she stood up and walked over to the table, holding her head high and her back straight. “Fine,” she snapped. “Tell me. Tell me everything, Zane, and don’t leave anything out this time.”
I took a deep breath. “You have to promise you’re gonna let me talk, okay? No interruptions. You let Zane speaky weaky and then we can talk.” I shot a sarcastic smile in her direction. “Sound good?”
Isabella rolled her blue eyes. “What other choice do I have?”
I nodded, feeling satisfied. “Good,” I said. “Your father, Gianni Bianchi, was second-in-command to my father. He was in the mob, the mafia, the family business, whatever the fuck you wanna call it. He did a lot of bad shit, and I watched maybe a third of that go down. He was loyal, and my father loved him. My father is Lionel Ricci, head of the family business. He’s been in charge for over thirty years.”
Isabella looked at me with a shocked expression on her face. I could tell she wanted to interrupt but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.
I continued. “And he left you a shit-ton of money, girl. Like, a huge fortune. And the reason I haven’t told you is because I was afraid if you were grabbed or kidnapped, that would be the first thing you’d tell your captors.” I raised my eyebrow at her and Isabella blushed deeply. “So, you can see, this has been for your own goddamn good. Fine goddamn job you’ve done of repaying me.”
Isabella blinked again. “My father didn’t have anything to do with the mob,” she said softly. “Mom always said he worked in construction and he died in an accident,” she added, glaring at me. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Zane. Don’t tell me lies about my father!” She started crying again, breaking down into sobs and propping her head up on her arms.
I let her cry for a few seconds, letting a deep sigh out and leaning back in my chair. “I ain’t lying to you anymore,” I hissed under my breath. “I told you I was gonna tell you the fuckin’ truth this time. It ain’t my problem if you don’t wanna believe it.”
Even though it was only the middle of the afternoon, I stood up and walked out of the kitchen towards the little bar I kept in the dining room. I needed a fucking drink, and damned if I wasn’t going to get one. Isabella’s sobs flooded the room with noisy, sniffling cries. She sounded like a little kid. My irritation with her was growing by the second. I was sick of dealing with this woman who acted like a tough broad, only to be confronted with the slightest notion of something off-color and then turned into a sniffling, sniveling little brat.
“Isabella, I don’t have time for this shit,” I called loudly. “I have some shit to get done today, so you better fuckin’ wrap up that crying jag soon.”
Isabella only sniffled and sobbed in response. Rolling my eyes, I poured myself a double neat whiskey and knocked the whole thing back in one gulp. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dialed Jake’s number and held the phone up to my ear.
“Yo,” Jake said after the second ring. “What’s up, man?”
“You got any news on that deal?” I raised my eyebrows. “We gotta figure that shit out soon, dude. Lionel ain’t gonna sit around for much longer, and I can’t risk losing this promotion.”
Jake laughed, a rich, deep, throaty sound. “Sounds good, man,” he said, like I hadn’t just asked him a serious question. “You wanna talk about that later?”
“No,” I said through gritted teeth. “I wanna talk about that shit now, asshole. This was supposed to be worked out two weeks ago!”
Jake laughed again. “You can’t rush perfection, bro,” he said casually, in a way that infuriated me. I wished I could reach through the phone and punch him. “You can’t keep hustlin’ me like this. I ain’t got nothin’ for you.”
“Are you fuckin’ worthless? You promised me this deal ages ago! I bet you don’t even know any fuckin’ Russians! You’ve been lying to me this whole goddamn time!”
“Jesus, relax, Zane,” Jake said. “I’ve been busy, that’s all, fuckin’ busy. Which is more than your pampered ass can say.”
Seething, I hung up the phone without replying. Something was starting to smell like a rat, and that rat’s name was Jake. If he didn’t help me out soon, I had no idea what I was gonna start doing. I had to work out this deal, or else Lionel was gonna look me over when it came time to die. I had to do something.
“Yo, Isabella,” I said loudly, calling back into the kitchen. “You know anyone who does blow?”
Isabella gasped. “Zane, what the fuck are you talking about?” She sounded more horrified than ever. “Are you kidding me?”
“Yeah, I was joking,” I said loudly. Jesus. Fucking woman couldn’t even take a joke!