Page 9 of Stone’s Revenge

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CHAPTER FOUR

“Has she tried to escape?” I brush imaginary lint from my shirt sleeves as if I’m about to enter a business meeting. Which I am, of sorts.

Lucca’s eyes don’t move from the door. “Once. She’s been quiet since.”

Tio and Lucca are built like steel, and it isn’t just their body size that intimidates others. They both say little, show no emotion, and are loyal to me as if they were made from my own blood. Their fathers had both served the Parlatore family in some capacity as well. Lucca’s father had been our family’s driver for decades, right up until his heart attack, and Tio’s father had been my mother’s and sister’s personal guard.

I don’t and never will blame him for their deaths. Only one person is responsible for them, and I intend to get my revenge in a way that will rip him from the core.

I nod at Lucca before opening the door. “Good. You can go have your breakfast. Tio’s around.”

The room is quiet and only lit by the little ray of light from the slider door. The sun still has another twenty minutes before it breaks free of the horizon. I like to start my day before it rises and continue until well after it sets. Sleep is not important to me. I’ll sleep after I avenge my family’s deaths.

The covers on the bed are a mess, the only sign she’d ever been here. I’m not the type to panic or rush to conclusions, so I step over the pool of satin at my feet and, taking a deep breath, go to the balcony. If she had jumped...

The tension in my neck releases when I find her asleep on the lounge. Curled up in a ball and dressed in all black, she looks like she was ready to escape before sleep found her. There is no worry of that. If she climbs over the railing, she’ll fall to her death.

Her death is something I do not want. It would ruin everything. I need her alive. For now at least. After I am done with her, it doesn’t matter if she dies. I sit in the chair opposite her and cross my ankle over my knee, waiting for her to wake.

Once the sun fully rises and shines on the balcony, she’ll wake. For ten minutes I study her face, sweet and angelic in sleep. Void of harsh makeup, she appears younger than her twenty-six years. It is when she is awake with spitfire in her veins that makes her appear older. Not much older, but enough to cover the angelic façade of sleep.

I let my gaze trail down her legs, wrapped tight in black leggings. I remember what her ass looked like in those unflattering shorts she wore to the diner. It will be even more magnificent without the bulk of fabric covering it.

Her tits are decent as well, from what I could tell from underneath the baggy shirt she wore. I’d studied pictures of her for years and knew every nuance of her body, of her facial expressions. It is important to be able to detect her under a different guise. Blonde, brunette, brown eyes, green eyes...I can identify that mouth—those lips, especially—anywhere.

That mouth is meant to be wrapped around my cock. I lick my lips and shift in my seat. The noise wakes her, and she jumps to her feet, her eyes wide with fear.

I remain in my seat, partly blocking the doorway back into the suite. She takes a step back and white knuckles the railing, then glances out over the horizon. I can see the trepidation in her eyes as she realizes there is no escape.

Her ivory tower sits perched on the edge of a cliff. The view of the Mediterranean Sea is stunning, endless miles of blue water. In the distance, on a clear day, the small island of Linosa can be seen. Today isn’t one of those days. Last night’s cloud cover made for a moonless night. I imagine her panic when she woke and couldn’t escape past Tio or Lucca, whoever was on duty at the time, or see out her windows.

I picked this suite especially for her. I spent months preparing it in anticipation of her arrival. Now that she is here, it is time to get my plan moving. I’ve waited long enough.

I stand and she gasps, pinning herself against the railing. Good. I want her to be afraid of me. It will be easier to get her to do what I want. Not that I have any concerns when it comes to getting my way. I always get what I want.

Her cooperation will make it easier though so I can focus my energy on the other end of my business dealings.

“Callista.”

“My name is not Callista. It’s Gia.”

Very well. I could appease her in this small way. It will have no bearing on the final outcome of the transaction.

“Gia,” I say, then motion to the lounger. “Sit. You look like you’re ready to leap over the railing and fall to your death. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

When she doesn’t move, I stalk across the balcony until I stand inches from her. Her chest rises and falls with every nervous breath. I can smell her sweat. Her fear. I live off this. The control. The power. The revenge.

“Just...just let me go. I don’t know who you are or what you want or who the hell you think I am. Just let me go,” she sputters.

I reach up and push a strand of hair away from her face. “Gia.” I click my tongue. “Where do you plan on escaping to.”

“Home.” She looks out over the cliff to the crashing waves below.

“You are home, Callista.”

“No.” A single tear rolls down her cheek. “Please, God, no.”

“It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than God to help you.”


Tags: Emery Quinn Romance