I couldn’t help but grin. “My attorney is good at what he does. As far as Tristen, I’m thoroughly convinced he was placed into witness protection.”
“Why in God’s name would you think that?”
“After his death, the trial continued and I was convicted because of his written testimony provided by the prosecution, which the judge accepted given the… circumstances.”
“If you’d killed him then you wouldn’t have gone to jail.”
I offered a single nod. She was quite formidable, capable of shutting down her emotions when necessary.
“If what you’ve told me about him is the truth, isn’t that par for the course as to how US Marshals handle WITSEC?” she asked. “Why are you just realizing it?”
I was shocked that she knew at least a little about how the program worked.
“Not always. It depends on what kind of information the witness provides.”
“Which is why so many witnesses disappear.” A wry smile crossed her face. “Wait a minute. Your sentence was considered relatively light. That’s why you initially didn’t act on your belief. Tristen not only stole money from you, but he also removed intellectual property from your organization. Didn’t he?”
I lifted my glass in salute. “Excellent assumption, mygatita.”
She folded her arms, still staring at me. “But since you’re standing here, you think he’s holding onto whatever he took from you. Maybe he’s trying to sell it to the highest bidder.”
Her smirk was irritating, but also providing another moment of full arousal. “As I’ve said before. You’re very intelligent.”
“That would destroy you and your… organization.”
I almost noticed a faraway look in her eyes. “No, but it would become an uncomfortable situation.”
“And you think it’s possible I can help you locate this information. That is if he’s really living under an assumed identity.”
“While my father and brother chose to believe the forensics report, including providing me with a bloody pictorial of the aftermath of the crash as well as DNA samples, I’m smart enough to know that those things can and have been faked. The US Marshals are very talented.”
“You waited to hunt him down yourself. That’s an incredible, if not ridiculous story. I saw his casket. I was there at his funeral. I was…” She was still fighting the truth.
Before she looked away, I noticed the doubt was fading in her eyes as several pieces in her mind began to fall together.
“The casket was closed, you said so yourself.”
Sierra nodded instead of answering.
“Don’t try and fool yourself any longer. I have no idea why he made the decision to live a normal life with you, lying about who and what he was.”
“If what you say is true, then I need to know why. I deserve to have the truth. He could have picked up some tart off the street to spend time with. Instead, he chose to spend eleven months and thirteen days pretending he gave a damn about me. That doesn’t sit well with the logical side of my brain. I need to know other things as well, truths from you instead of riddles.”
“And they are?”
“Why call me? Why play a game when all you really wanted was to kidnap me, using me to get what you want? Why? Don’t you know or care at all what that did to me?” she snarled as she smashed her palm against her chest over her heart. “It hurt. I don’t know why, but you awakened something I thought dead because Tristen killed it within me. I always told everyone he was so sweet and amazing, bringing me flowers. Do you want to know the sick truth? At first it was wonderful, just like some damn fairytale. He came into my bistro on a warm autumn day. By that night, we were having dinner. We ended up spending the weekend together. Only two weeks later he asked me to marry him, and I said yes. We had an amazing whirlwind romance. He was incredible, so attentive and loving. We were almost exactly alike. I knew I’d found my Prince Charming. Christ. I was such a fool. There isn’t a man on earth who can fill those shoes.”
Her hateful glare was only partially directed at the man who’d lied to her.
“I’m sorry that he hurt you.”
“Right. You couldn’t care less. Don’t bother, Alessandro. I don’t need to be pacified. Please answer me one question. Did you send flowers, red roses to my store?”
I narrowed my eyes. “While I enjoy indulging beautiful women, roses are not something I enjoy giving. They remind me of death.”
The look in her eyes was as interesting as it was haunting. “Fine.” She laughed again as she fiddled with the glass. “As the weeks turned into months, Tristen started becoming agitated. At first, he was grumpy. Then irritated at everything I did. Then he’d storm out. Always apologizing. Always sending me a dozen red roses.”
My muscles tensed as I realized what kind of man Tristen had been with her. Being rough with a woman was one thing, being abusive another. “What did he do to you?”