Page 73 of Captive Rival: Armani
Though it should be. I should be talking her out of the mess she’s about to get herself into. But who knows? Maybe she’s right, and she and Mr. Orloff will have an amicable divorce in a few years and nobody will end up worse for wear. Or maybe they’ll end up legitimately falling in love, and Jules will be telling the funny story about how they got married for the rest of her life. Who am I to judge?
“O-kay…then what is it?” she prods. “I’m kinda crunched for time here.”
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and blurt, “I think you’re wrong about the Bellantis.”
I spill the words quickly and then gulp down more wine to fortify myself for the reaction I’m about to get. But she doesn’t even respond, as if I’ve actually stunned her.
Finally, a huff comes through the line. “Are you serious?”
Shit. Now I have to explain myself. I’m so glad I’m doing this over the phone, rather than face-to-face where I’d have to witness the sight of her frowning disappointment in me.
“I am. Look, I’ve gotten to know them and understand them a lot more since moving in here. The pieces just aren’t adding up, and—”
“Jesus, Candi. Are you listening to yourself? You’ve been snowed by good dick. It’s making you think you have feelings for this guy and blinding you to what’s right in front of your face.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I remind myself to keep my voice down, so I’m not overheard. Armani and his brothers went to have some kind of meeting at the Bellanti offices after dinner, but Karina is still somewhere in the house. She and Marco have been out of town a lot, but he’s got some time off from the racing circuit this week so they’ve been staying in Marco’s rooms here at the Bellanti estate.
“It’s not that, Jules. It’s that all the terrible things you’ve said about them, like the trafficking and the drugs and the arms deals…the executions…I’ve seen zero evidence of anything like that.”
“Of course you haven’t—these are professional mobsters. It’s not like they’re going to bring their dirty work home with them and talk about it around the dinner table! The Bellantis are cold-blooded killers, Candi. And Armani tortures people! Did you forget about that dungeon on the property?”
“No, I haven’t forgotten.”
“Good, because there is a very fucking dark side to that man you’re catching feelings for. He hurts women. He treats them like disposable goods, like…likecommodities. He’s not a nice person.”
My lips tingle. I’m clutching my wineglass so hard, I’m surprised it hasn’t shattered.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve told you this before,” she snaps. “You’ve seen it yourself on the yacht! The Bellantis use women as bargaining chips for their allies and business partners. They pass them out like party favors and trade them with each other like baseball cards! How else do you think they take in such consistently high profits in a volatile market? They’re a small family winery. There’s no way they’re raking in millions of dollars every year solely because they make good wine. The cops are probably in on it, too.”
This phone call was a bad idea. I’ve never heard such vitriol in her voice. She’s absolutely livid, and I can’t be sure if what’s coming out of her mouth is factual or merely ammunition to keep me on her side. The problem is, when it comes to the mafia stuff, I have no idea what the Bellantis are involved in.
“Did you forget when their shipment of wine went up in flames on the docks?” she goes on. “Did you forget what else they were gearing up to transport that day?”
“The police didn’t find any women. The fire wasn’t even on the news,” I point out.
“Which is so odd now, isn’t it? Unless you consider the fact that we’re talking about the goddamn mafia. These people can bribe their way out of anything, and they have the Napa police in their back pocket. The only reason there weren’t any women there is because we set their shit on fire first.”
Closing my eyes, I sink down into an overstuffed chair. Is she right?
“It’s a good thing you tipped Uncle Sergio off about that shipment when you did, by the way,” Juliana says. “Remember, the whole reason we’re doing all this is to stop the Bellantis from getting away with these heinous crimes. With all their money and their friends in high places, they’ll never stop trafficking women untilwemake them stop.”
My throat tightens. Her voice lowers, taking on the sweet, even tone I know so well.
“We. Meaning you, and me, and everyone else that’s working toward this goal to stop the Bellanti reign and all the sick shit that comes with it. I need you, Candi. I need you to stay in the fight. I know you want to believe in the fairy tale, but come on. Use your head.”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” I whisper, my voice wobbling.
“Of course you don’t. It’s called Stockholm syndrome. But you need to get it together. You’re picking the wrong side of this battle. You married asociopath. I’m sure he’s very charming. That’s why he’s so dangerous. But he doesn’t give a shit about right and wrong; he doesn’t know what human empathy is! He destroys women for money. You can’t forget who he is and what he’s capable of.”
Memories flash in my mind—the smell of blood and bleach in the Deep Cellar, Armani cuffing me to a chair in Vegas and getting so rough with me that I cried, Armani torturing the tattooed man, not a shadow of remorse in his eyes, the hard bulge of Armani’s guns under his jacket every single day, his—
“Get me the names I need,” Juliana commands, interrupting the whirl of my dark thoughts.
I’m still wavering. There’s more to Armani and me than sex, I know there is. But what if he’s truly as bad as she thinks? What if he is a sociopath and I’m just a toy for him to play with? And I’ve known Juliana for years. I’ve always trusted her. There’s no benefit for her in lying to me about this.
“I’ll try,” I murmur.
