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My shoulders tensed. “Yes.”
“Don’t fail me again.”
“I don’t intend to.”
We disconnected and I gave myself a minute to get myself together before I laid out plan A in my head. If that one failed, plan B would have to do as backup. I grimaced. I hoped I wouldn’t have to use the latter, it meant Sean’s death would be quick and far too painless.
I flicked on my indicator and cruised out onto the highway. If all went well, in less than an hour Sean would no longer have a heartbeat, and Tilly could relax knowing the target was off her back.
That Sean’s death could well start a gang war—if they worked out who killed him—wasn’t something I was ready to concede. I was a bull at the gates ready to explode into brutal action.
Vengeance was going to be sweet.
Chapter Nineteen
Chantilly
The late morning sun streamed through the bedroom window when I finally woke. Unloading about my past to Valentino had taken a weight off my shoulders. It was true what they said about a problem shared being a problem halved.
I sat and rubbed my eyes even as my near death experience came back to haunt me. My breath shuddered out. It’d been a close call. That I’d accepted my fate didn’t come easily to me in the cold light of day. I’d always been a fighter. I wasn’t a quitter.
I swung my legs out of bed and stalked across the gray carpet and onto the large, blue-white tiles of the bathroom, where I freshened up and relieved myself. My full bladder was probably as much from the seawater I’d swallowed as it had been the champagne I’d drank.
I shivered then as I looked into the mirror. I was a little thin, gaunt almost. I didn’t want to lose any weight; I needed all my energy so that I didn’t lose my will to fight. I clearly needed to look after myself better.
Heading to the closet, I picked out an outfit from the few things left to me by Marco. After dressing into a violet-colored blouse and denim shorts, I brushed my hair and pulled it back into a bun before walking barefooted out of the bedroom to find Valentino.
I was still quietly reeling about my topsy-turvy emotions. That I’d wanted his arms around me after I’d managed to escape from him was crazy town. I was a walking, talking paradox.
I stalked down the hallway to find the kitchen, dining and lounge room empty. I blinked. It was spotless, everything cleaned and sparkling with a lemon scent lingering in the air. Even the floorboards looked polished. His cleaners might have been here while I’d slept, but it was obvious my lover wasn’t. I was sure of it even before I checked the guest rooms.
That each of the carpeted rooms had been vacuumed while the master bedroom I’d been in had been left made it more than apparent the cleaners knew not to disturb me.
My spine stiffened. It wasn’t until I checked the office, then automatically glanced at the monitors, that I knew for sure he wasn’t using his gym or swimming laps in his pool. I looked at the monitor to his garage. His jeep was damn well gone!
He really had left me again!
That he’d done so after what had happened was a spear through my heart. He didn’t give a damn about me. All he cared about was serving his don. That he killed others for a living made my stomach twist. Of course he didn’t give two shits about me. How could he when his soul eroded every time he ended another life. That I’d nearly died meant very little to him in the bigger scheme of things.
I swallowed convulsively. I should be used to men like Valentino. Heaven only knew Sean had tortured and murdered anyone who dared stand up to him. He killed for the most minor offences. That Valentino carried out killings at the command of a don whose heart was likely darker than Sean’s made me nauseous.
What had I done to deserve being entrapped again? At least with Sean my hatred had fed my need to escape. Valentino made me question if I even really wanted to leave. That I might actually have coerced my way out of the house when his cleaners were here, but instead had slept soundly, set my blood to boil.
I stepped closer to his desk and kicked it, enjoying a microbe of satisfaction in the act. Imagining it was Valentino’s ass made me feel even better. I spun around and glowered as I looked up high, aware he’d see me thanks to his cameras recording my every move.
Adrenaline roaring through me, I stomped around his desk to grab his chair and swing it with force at the nearest monitor.
Crunch. Crack.
Oh, the joy!
I smacked the chair against the next monitor, then the next. As glass exploded my mood lifted.
Crack. Smack.
I attacked the monitors as if I was a madwoman. Perhaps I was. But if I died thanks to my insanity, at least I hadn’t completely lost my independence, my defiance. My courage or fight!
I was on a roll, adrenaline continuing to lend me strength as I swung the chair at the very last monitor. Satisfaction coursed through me as the screen shattered into fragments. It was only when the monitors were broken and twisted remnants of their former, pristine selves that I dropped the mangled chair.
