“You don’t need to do anything.” My heart stops beating when the line goes dead.
“Hello…” I whisper, stupidly aware of the lost connection.
The already narrow walls close in around me. What does that even mean?You don’t need to do anything.Of course, I do. I have to figure out a way to lose the goons on my heels and get to the roof when the chopper returns.
“Wait!” a female shouts. “I don’t understand.”
My gaze settles on Matheus again, his tall, well-built proportions dominating the carpeted corridor. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, showing off tanned forearms and a heavy gold bracelet. He fixes his disheveled shirt tails back into expensive dress pants, simultaneously catching my eye, his glazed pupils flashing shades of fire and brimstone.
Yanking at his already undone top button, he stretches his neck and exhales in a quick breath.
“You don’t need to understand,” he mutters, avoiding eye contact with the blonde girl who’s right next to him now. “India!” Although he smiles, it comes across as forced, almost cruel. “Were you talking to Giovanni just now?”
“I was having fun.” The girl reaches for him, her hand falling through the air as he heads straight for me. “I thought you wanted––”
“Christ.” He shoves his fingers into his thick hair, rotates toward her, and covers her open mouth with his, hard and sloppy.
Pulling away, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as she blinks up at him like he’s a god. “Nope… nothing… I’m all out of interest today.”
The girl pulls her lips between her teeth and rolls back her shoulders. Her eyes cut to mine before she does a one-eighty and hurries off.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, eyeing his clenched fist and how he’s taking deep, controlled breaths.
“Why wouldn't I be? I have everything I could ever fucking want,” he grinds out the words and somewhere in the depth of his sonorous tone, I detect satire or perhaps something else. “Areyouokay?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Giovanni knows about Sicily,” I admit, my stomach roiling.
“He was going to find out eventually.” Matheus juts out his elbow, beckoning for me to grab it. “We’re intense motherfuckers most of the time, but we look after our own. And you’re stuck in the middle of those two.” His long lashes lower briefly, his mood becoming less malevolent. “Rather you than me, India. We were all shocked when Gio sent that video to Dré. He’s tried to break into his world for years. I’ll take you back to the party. There’s a bottle of Cristal with our names on it. We could both use another drink to get through the rest of this shit.”
I nod and link my arm with his, letting him lead me along the corridor. “I wonder if he’ll get here in time to stop the plane taking off.” He adds, flicking out his wrist and checking his gold Rolex.
My stomach knots. “I’m not boarding the plane. So, it doesn’t matter if he’s late.”
Matheus opens the door and lets me walk in ahead of him. There’s no music playing, only silence. Tomás eyes me from across the room, his impeccably dressed physique imperial, as he stands there with his cell phone in his hand.
His unwavering glare shoots chills over my scalp. It’s an unsettling feeling to encounter after having spent time with him on Sin Island and never once had I felt threatened. But having this man's sole attention alters the atmosphere, making it airless and uncertain. It's almost like he doesn’t consider me as the little girl under André's protection anymore.
Next to him, André takes a slug of liquor, his carbon black eyes watching me over the rim of his glass. They both stand there in the hush, not saying a word, their unreadable expressions plunging the room’s temperature to polar.
“What’s going on?” I whisper.
22
INDIA
“What’s it like?” Matheus asks me through his headset microphone. “Blackwater Manor.”
I lean forward where he sits on the opposite side of the chopper to me, seated snugly beside Tomás.
André sits right next to me, his knee jiggling. The confinement of a cabin quickly becoming an endurance test.
“I guess it’s similar to him.” I shrug. “Formidable and moody looking, but a surprise when you get deep inside.”
I’m still in shock. After Giovanni hung up on me at the hotel, he immediately rang Tomás. Summoning his brothers to his home, with the clear instruction that I had to return with them, or the hangar where the Souza jet awaits would go up in flames.
After years of keeping his address a secret, he’s finally opening the front door to the people who matter the most to him––because of me.
However, something doesn't feel right. There's a niggle of panic haunting me and the powerful men escorting me to Blackwater are seemingly aware of it too.
