Thin Lies (Donati Bloodlines #1) (13 page)

Emma
chewed on her inner cheek before asking, “So what happened?”

“My
mother died. I learned some things. I decided to take a different path from
that point forward. One that didn’t include a woman that my uncle had
handpicked for me, never mind one that couldn’t even get my blood hot enough to
want to fuck her. I think she was okay with it all, but then again, I never
gave her a ring, a promise, or anything else. We just were.”

“And
then you weren’t.”

Calisto
lifted a single shoulder in response because honestly, he didn’t give a damn.
“Anyway, she was the only person that I considered marrying. We had never even
had sex, I wouldn’t really call it a relationship, and my affection for her was
limited to what she could provide me with in the future.”

“I
don’t understand.”

“A
boss needs a wife. She would have given me the right standing for my family and
Cosa Nostra when Affonso was ready to step down. But as I said, things happened
and I decided to change direction accordingly. The marriage wouldn’t have been
about what I wanted, but rather, what someone else wanted for me.”

“Someone
like Affonso,” Emma said quietly.

It
wasn’t even a question.

Calisto
swallowed audibly. He could have lied, but he chose not to for reasons he
couldn’t explain. “Yeah, for someone like Affonso.”

“So,
that’s what he meant.”

“Hmm?”

“Affonso,”
Emma said. “He told me that if you would just do what he wanted, then he
wouldn’t need me at all. The boss, right? That’s what he meant, wasn’t it? If
you would just give him the guarantee that you would take the seat, he wouldn’t
need to worry about his legacy carrying on in the mafia because someone from
his family would take over.”

“You
answered your own question, Emma.”

“In
more ways than you know,” she mumbled.

“What
does that mean?”

Emma’s
lips pursed before she said, “My other question that I didn’t ask. I was going
to ask what it was that Affonso wanted you to do that you wouldn’t do for him.
I can safely say I know the answer to that now.”

Calisto
smirked. “Yeah, that’s what I won’t do for him.”

“Why
not? It’s a family thing, isn’t it? Maximo’s father was the boss before him.
Affonso’s father had been the boss, and it was your father afterward. Don’t you
want to carry on that legacy?”

“No,”
Calisto said honestly.

“Why—”

“You’re
making a lot of noise and making me miss the movie, Emma.”

Her
mouth snapped shut with an audible crack. Calisto could practically feel her
glare burning into him, but he pretended like he didn’t notice a thing was
different. As quickly as their conversation had started, it was over. Calisto
needed it to be this way.

He
had to stop her before she got too far; before she dug too deep. Those scars
needed to stay covered.

“Can
I ask one more thing?” Emma asked in a whisper.

Calisto
sighed. “Shoot.”

“Why
won’t you give Affonso what he wants?”

“Isn’t
it obvious?”

“No.”

Calisto
glanced to the side, meeting Emma’s gaze head-on and unabashed. “Because it’s
what the bastard wants, Emmy. I’ve already given him far more than he deserves.
I won’t give him any more.”

Emma
settled back into the couch without saying another thing. Calisto was grateful
that she had dropped the subject and seemed content to finish out the movie. A
few minutes passed them by in silence. Calisto rotated between his beer and the
bag of popcorn between him and Emma.

Then,
quieter than her earlier whisper, Emma said, “I don’t know what it is about
you, but you make me curious, Calisto. I’m not actually like this all the time.”

Funny.

She
made him curious, too.

Calisto
woke to bright light, his back aching, and the shriek of the suite’s phone
ringing in the background. Groaning, he shielded his eyes from the sunlight
streaming in through the windows. On the end-table, he counted the six bottles
of beer he’d downed during the two movies he’d watched with Emma before he
realized she had fallen asleep on the other end of the couch.

Her
cute little snores had been enough for him not to wake her. He must have fallen
asleep, too, considering the television was flashing a blue screen to show the
movie was over. Glancing to the side, Calisto found the couch empty and the
blanket that Emma had been using was tossed over the arm.

“Shit,”
he muttered.

Pushing
up from the couch, Calisto went in search of the goddamn ringing phone. He
checked his watch as he strolled into the kitchen with bleary eyes. Six in the
morning.

Jesus.

In
the last three weeks that Calisto had been watching Emma, he hadn’t known her
to wake up earlier than eight. Maybe he should have woken her up the night
before and gotten her back to her penthouse and into her bed.

Calisto
found the cordless phone under a dish towel on the kitchen island. That
confused him more than anything. He was ninety-nine percent sure that he had
brought the phone into the living room the night before after talking to
security, getting the popcorn set up, and turning the movie on. It shouldn’t
have been in the kitchen, and it definitely shouldn’t have been covered by a
dish towel.

He
didn’t get a chance to answer the call before the ringing stopped. Calisto
cursed under his breath again, noting it had been security calling. Quickly,
Calisto hit the three digits for the fools downstairs and waited for someone to
pick up.

“Good
morning, Mr. Donati.”

“Morning,”
Calisto grumbled.

It
wasn’t a good morning. He was still tired, he probably shouldn’t have chugged
six beers in a matter of a couple of hours, and his back still hurt from
sleeping in an upright position on an uncomfortable couch.

Fuck
the good morning.

“Someone
called two seconds ago,” Calisto said. “What did they want?”

“Actually,
we’ve called three times. Someone was just getting ready to come up and wake
you.”

Calisto
blinked and then rubbed at his eyes. “Sleeping off a rough night. Sorry about
that. Is she up and around?”

“That’s
part of the reason we were calling. We noticed about a half hour ago that your
sensors were activating from room to room before Miss Sorrento entered the
elevator and went into her own suite. Approximately ten minutes later, the emergency
door exit in her pantry was activated. We assumed you were awake as well
because of the sensors in your suite, sir.”

It
took Calisto far too long to realize what the man was saying.

“Wait
one goddamn second,” Calisto muttered. “Are you telling me that you didn’t
begin calling me the moment she stepped into the elevator and then entered her
penthouse, like you’re supposed to?”

“Well,
sir … You see, after last night, the morning shift was left a note that we
weren’t to bother you with seemingly unnecessary calls. And again, we assumed
you were also awake and knew that she was, too.”

“It’s
morning! She entered her place alone! Yes, that is a necessary call.” Calisto’s
agitation bubbled just below the surface. He was two seconds away from telling
the fool right where he could shove his fucking note. “The exit door, you
said?”

“Um,
yes, sir. About ten minutes ago. We started calling you the moment it was
opened.”

Calisto
didn’t berate the man on that issue. It was his own damn fault for drinking
before sleeping.

“Thank
you,” Calisto said.

He
hung up the phone, tossed it to the kitchen table, and made a beeline for the
only bedroom in the suite. The moved phone and dish towel suddenly made sense
to Calisto as he searched for his suddenly missing car keys. His suit jacket
was hanging off the chair where he left it, along with his dress pants. The
keys should have been in the inside pocket, but they weren’t.

Cristo
.

Affonso
would have a fit.

Calisto
would be responsible.

Emma
must have moved the phone. She likely tried to muffle the sound with a towel so
that when it rang, it wouldn’t be loud enough to wake Calisto. She probably
took his keys as well.

Sneaky.

Damn,
he had to admit it was a good play. 

Emmy,
you crazy girl … What are you doing?

Calisto

Balancing
the phone on his shoulder, Calisto hastily buttoned up his suit jacket. “Allow
me entrance into Emma Sorrento’s penthouse, now.”

“Yes,
sir,” said the security.

Calisto
stepped into the opened elevator, pressed Emma’s room number, and waited for
the fools downstairs to approve his request for entry. Finally, the doors on
the other side of the elevator opened after his side closed.

“Thank
you,” Calisto said into the phone. “And one more thing.”

“What’s
that, sir?”

“Should
Affonso Donati or Miss Sorrento’s family call today wanting updates on her
arrivals and departures, please make sure to keep this little incident under
wraps. There’s no need to go worrying them over nothing. I will handle it.”

“Absolutely,
sir.”

“Good.”

Calisto
hung up the phone and stepped into Emma’s quiet penthouse. His reasons for
wanting to keep Emma’s disappearing act a secret was obvious—she probably
panicked and ran when she thought there was an opening, and Calisto was not
going to be the fool who put his head on the block for her foolishness.

He
got the girl, as far as that went. He didn’t blame her for wanting to get away,
or wanting to be free of what her future held, but he couldn’t help her there.

Letting
her run meant sacrificing his life.

Calisto
wasn’t quite ready to die yet.

He
had to give Emma credit where it was due. This escape plan of hers had to have
been a spur of the moment thing, considering she couldn’t have known he would
invite her over the night before. For a quick getaway, she had done okay so
far.

Running
was one thing.

Hiding
was quite another.

Calisto
put his cell phone inside his pocket as he strolled into the main area of
Emma’s penthouse. The clean, bright atmosphere of the place was magnified in
the morning light. White marble floors and eggshell-toned walls lit up under
the sunlight filtering in through the large floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Emma,
Emma, Emma,” Calisto murmured under his breath as he took a look around. “Tell
me where you’ve gone, sweet girl, and make this easier on both of us.”

He
made a beeline for the bedroom that he knew belonged to Emma. After having
spent the better part of the past few weeks packing things in her apartment
with the help of a moving company, Calisto felt comfortable enough to know
which rooms had been designated for what purpose.

In
the bedroom, he found a mess. Clothes, what little Emma had kept for the
duration of her stay in Vegas, had been tossed on the floor and discarded. The
closet door was opened far enough for Calisto to see that Emma had taken one of
the four designer suitcases out and left the other three behind. She’d taken
the smallest one.

Just
enough to pack a couple of things, he realized.

That
explained the mess.

Even
the small jewelry box on top of the dresser looked like someone had been
rifling through it.

In
the attached bathroom, the countertop looked like it had exploded products over
the top. Calisto recognized a few obvious things that were missing from the
mess. A toothbrush, hairbrush, and a small toiletry kit that Emma had asked him
to tell the movers to leave alone so she could keep using it.

The
scattered products didn’t bother Calisto as much as the writing on the bathroom
mirror did. In red lipstick, Emma had written one word with hard strokes.

Sorry
.

Calisto
rubbed at his forehead, sighing. “
Cristo
. You’re going to make me do
this, huh, Emma?”

Irritation
churned in Calisto’s gut. He hated to admit it, but he was bothered by the fact
that Emma had tricked him like she had. After the night before, he thought that
maybe the two could be friends, and he would be able to ignore the strange
attraction. At least to the point where he could be appropriate and respectful
to his uncle’s soon-to-be bride.

Emma
played him.

Hard
.

It
pissed Calisto off like nothing else.

On
the other hand, he also couldn’t deny the concern bubbling up right behind the
anger. Emma had little to carry her. No money without approval and no vehicle
that wasn’t able to be traced. She had only enough clothes to use for a few
days, and frankly, Calisto didn’t believe the girl had enough street smarts to
stay low and out of sight for the amount of time she would need to get away
safely.

It
was bad, all the way around the board.

The
cell phone in his pocket rang, bringing Calisto out of his warring thoughts.
Hitting the answer button, he put the phone to his ear and said, “Donati
speaking.”

“Mr.
Donati,” the familiar voice of the security guy said, “we’ve got two visuals on
Miss Sorrento before she was able to leave the building. We thought you might
want to know what route she took to leave the casino.”

“She
took the exit. That’s what you said.”

“Yes,
sir, but she had several levels down below that she could have entered from.
The exits for the penthouses can only be unlocked from inside the rooms, and
not from the stairwells, like the hallways below.”

“You’re
wasting my time with nonsense. Hurry the fuck up.”

“Sorry,”
the guy muttered. “We first got sight of her coming out of the exit inside the
underground parking garage on the third level.”

Calisto’s
fist tightened around the phone. “Is that so?”

“Yes,
sir.”

“And
the second visual?”

He
really didn’t need the guy to say it. Calisto knew what was parked on the third
level of the underground parking garage.

“The
parking garage camera caught her unlocking the black Mercedes parked in your
parking spot, sir,” the guy said quieter.

Calisto
clenched his teeth hard enough to make his jaw ache.

Goddammit
.

Clearly,
the girl wasn’t playing around. She’s stolen his keys, likely thinking that she
would leave him without means to chase after her. It was one hell of a risk,
though, as most rental cars had GPS in them to track the vehicles. The Mercedes
did have GPS in it, but it would take Calisto half of the fucking day just to
get the information on locations from the company.

Not
to mention, if he did call for the GPS locations, the car would be reported as
stolen by the rental company. Calisto couldn’t risk the chance of police
becoming involved. There would be no hiding what Emma had done.

It
would be better for everyone involved, Emma included, if Calisto could manage
to get her back quietly, safely, and without issues. Even better if no one knew
it had happened at all.

“No
other visuals caught on camera?” Calisto asked.

“Just
the final one of the Mercedes pulling out of the parking garage and leaving the
property. She took an exit that was unmonitored by security.”

Smart
girl.

“Thanks
for the update. Remember what I said about those calls.”

“Our
lips are sealed, sir.”

“Wonderful,”
Calisto said.

“Is
there anything else we can help with?”

“Actually,
yes. I know the casino’s hotel has vehicles on standby for the wealthier guests
to use, should something come up and their rentals are unavailable. What do you
have on hand at the moment that is dark-colored and can make zero to sixty in
less than three seconds?”

“Um
…”

“That
is not an answer. If money is an issue, you can charge it to my card.”

“No,
that’s not the problem. I would have to check. We had a couple come in this
morning after checkout time.”

“It’ll
take me fifteen minutes to get down to the garage, right?” Calisto asked.

“About
that, yes.”

“Have
a car waiting when I get down there. Make me wait for one, and you’ll be
explaining to a guest why the closest dark-colored, fast car was stolen for a
joy ride. Understood?”

The
man on the other end cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Yes, sir.”

“Great.
Fifteen minutes.”

He
ended the call, feeling more frustrated than before. Stepping out of the
bathroom and back into the bedroom, the upended jewelry box caught Calisto’s
attention once more. He made his way over to the dresser and riffled through
the bits of jewelry to see what was there.

The
engagement ring that Affonso had given Emma rested on the top of the pile. So
did the bracelet and pendant necklace. Calisto took inventory of the room and
the belongings scattered about once more. This time, he looked at it with new
eyes.

Almost
everything Emma left behind was from Affonso. The clothes, fur coat, and new
shoes. Her jewelry, the new laptop on the bed, and the paperwork for the spa were
tossed onto the corner chair.

When
they had packed up the place with the moving company, Emma hadn’t left very
much except for a few outfits and things she wanted to physically take to New
York herself. Calisto was only now seeing the items as Emma must have when she
decided to run.

These
things weren’t hers.

She
didn’t want them.

Emma
didn’t want Affonso.

An
ache pulsed in Calisto’s chest. It felt like someone had taken a knife, plunged
it into his heart, and then twisted with all their might.

The
girl just wanted to be free.

Calisto
had to bring her back.

Jesus
.

Why
did this have to be so damned difficult?

Calisto
knew the answer to his question. It wasn’t just his odd desire for Emma that
kept poking at his nerves every time she was close by, it was also his interest
in who she was beyond the engagement ring, the last name, and her pretty little
mask. He’d never been very interested in a woman before. The one to finally
perk his interest just happened to be off-limits in a big way.

He
wanted to let her run.

He
did
.

But
he couldn’t.

“I
gave you a head start,” he said to the empty room. “But that’s just about all I
can do, Emma.”

Calisto
pushed open the third floor emergency exit and entered the parking garage.
Fifty feet away, a shiny, black Porsche was parked in the spot that should have
belonged to his rented Mercedes. A young man leaned against the back of the
Porsche with a set of keys dangling from his hand.

“Mr.
Donati?” the man asked.

“That’s
me,” Calisto replied. “And this car will certainly fit my purposes. Well done
to the bastard that managed to get this for me.”

The
young man smiled and held out the keys. “Here you are, sir. The tank is full.”

Calisto
took the keys. “Thank you.”