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His eyebrows rose on his forehead, and he looked me over. “Never thought you’d be one to have a ménage à trois at two in the afternoon.” He shrugged and shoved in the rest of the crackers in his hand. “Or at all, really. You were always such a good kid. Never expected this kind of lifestyle from you.”
The blood in my veins turned to ice.
How did my father know what I was just doing?
Was he watching us?
I felt the bile in my stomach rise. “You’re sick.”
He let out a lecherous laugh. “I wasn’t the one licking Eve Rosetti’s tits.” Then he shrugged again. “Although I’d really fucking love to. That woman’s got a great rack on her. I’d bet they’re real, too.” He pointed toward my chest. “Not like your store-bought ones.”
Okay.
I was going to kill him.
Right here in the kitchen.
“Either way,” he said with cracker crumbs falling out of his mouth and onto his shirt, “Carlo seemed to enjoy railing you both. Guess he’s got low standards.”
Yeah.
I was going to kill him.
Right after I barfed.
“Didn’t have anything else to do other than ogle young women?”
He spotted another bowl that had grapes in it and pulled it closer. “I have to keep an eye on you. Besides, it wasn’t my fault none of you saw or heard me open the door. Not my fault at all. They make locks for a reason.” He nodded at me.
“You need to get out of here before someone comes down and sees you,” I warned him of something he should be very well aware of. The fact that he was taking these risks—first, working for Carlo and now sneaking into his home and wandering around—worried the crap out of me.
I wasn’t sure exactly why he was doing it. There were other ways to keep track of me than opening my bedroom door while I was in there with Carlo and Eve.
And what if one of them had seen him?
My father wasn’t the smartest guy in the world. But even this was pretty dumb for him.
“Oh, yeah, now I remember what I was going to tell you.” He jabbed a finger into the air. “Got wind of the fact that people saw you and Carlo at the gala you guys went to. You might want to tell Carlo and get him to amp up his security. If Sergio gets wind of that…” His eyebrows rose even higher on his face. “Well, you know what’ll happen.” His hand sliced across his neck for full effect.
My stomach sank and part of me wanted to scream so one of the men would come rushing down here.
The other part of me knew my dad would sing like a freaking canary if I did that. "And who saw me exactly?" I asked in as calm a voice as I could possibly muster. I didn't want him to know how much he'd shocked me with this news.
Depending on who saw me and how long it would take that information to waft its way over to Sergio—I might not have much time left at all.
“Bad people, Bella. You need to get back home, grab my money, and then take the fuck off." His dirty hand pulled more grapes out of the bowl.
"And since when did you start caring about whether I lived or died?" It was a relevant question after all. And I knew the answer.
Never.
My father had never actually cared whether I lived or died.
The only time he ever did was when he wanted something.
Like using me to pay off a huge freaking gambling debt to a horrible mafia boss.
Yeah.
