Page 17 of Condemned By Betrayal
“Where are the pups?” Logan asks.
“They’re both adopted,” she replies.
Logan sits on the couch, making himself totally at home. “None left for me. I’m hurt.” He starts in with his drama. I glare at him, but he ignores me, keeping that same stupid, childish expression.
“I’m sorry,” Elowen chuckles. And I turn my attention back to her smiling face.
She meets my eyes. “Would you like something to drink?”
I shake my head.
“I’d love a cup of coffee,” Logan answers.
“He won’t.” I cut him off, glaring at him. “You’ve had enough caffeine for the day.”
I have no problem with him drowning himself in coffee, I’d pour more down his throat myself if it meant he’d shut his mouth, but I have many problems with him asking her to make him a cup. Most specifically, sending her away to the kitchen. I’m not going to get the chance to watch her all day, it’ll be just a few hours at most, and not a second of that will I let this bastard waste.
He looks at me, grins, and then turns back to Elowen. “My brother is really caring.”
“That’s sweet. If you want anything else—”
He waves his hand. “Nothing. Let’s get to work.”
She settles onto the couch adjacent to mine. She’s close enough that the air around me diffuses with the scent of roses.
I slide the folder toward her. “This is the contract I’ve prepared. You can discuss it with your lawyers and let me know what you think.”
She takes the folder. Her slender fingers work the button open, her hands are beautiful, like everything about her. An image flashes through my mind, her playing the piano, her slender fingers moving across the black and white keys. From that night, I know she plays beautifully. Will she ever play for me someday? I want her to. There’s an intense longing for her music deep within me.
She opens the folder and begins reading. I stare at her while she does. Her lashes aren’t very long, not very dense, yet perfect on her doe eyes and round face. Her nose is small, with a rounded tip and a straight bridge. And her lips, they look pale, bloodless, but I have a feeling that’s not their natural color, just the way I know her skin isn’t supposed to be this pale.
Logan says I’ve got some issues with my brain, that my obsession with her isn’t normal. Sometimes I think maybe I do have some issue, with all the dreams I’ve had of her, how has she latched onto my mind in such a way that I can’t get her out, not in the day and not at night? Not that I want to, when I’ve never felt more alive than I do now. But I want to understand why it is so. One coincidence is that I feel this way about her. Another is my similarity to her lover. The third is my blank mind, no memory of my past.
Is it possible that I’m him?
Yeah, sure, motherfucker. You’re the man this woman loves, go tell her.No one would believe that nonsense. Even I find it bizarre.
A smile touches her lips when she reaches the third page.
But I could lie to her. Tell her I’m Salvario, that I lost my memory and someone changed my face. I’d have her. All of her. I’d still search for Salvario, and if I find him, I’ll kill him. She’d never know I’m not him.
She looks up, meeting my eyes—eyes that haven’t left her face for a second. A flicker of discomfort crosses her face, then she nods.
“I agree to the terms.” The smile comes again. “I’m glad you added the clause that you’ll protect the people and this city.”
It’s her city, of course I’ll protect it.
She takes the pen from the holder and starts signing it.
“You should also consult your lawyer,” Logan advises.
She looks at him. “Actually, I can’t. My family can’t know about this deal.”
Once she signs the contract, she slides it back to me.
“Alright, now that the papers are signed, let’s talk about the man. Tell us everything about Salvario,” Logan moves on.
“His full name is Salvario De Falco. His father was the Don of the Camorra—Corrado De Falco. His mother’s name wasAlba. She was raised in England, then forced into marriage by the Don.”
