The Woman at the Docks - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,40
had taken and parked behind Famiglia, was still there.
She had some of her things, but she didn't have access to her money.
There was nowhere to go without some cash. You couldn't even drop down in an all-night diner to get your shit together, make a plan for your next move.
Then again, if Matteo was right, if she wasn't working alone, if all of this was just a ploy for something more nefarious, if this supposed sister of hers didn't actually exist, then she would've had people to come get her. Because she did have her phone.
I pulled over in the lot outside our family restaurant, watching the sun rise over the water.
No.
It couldn't have all been made up.
Because I had that damn picture.
They were similarly beautiful, yes, alike enough that they had to be sisters, even if I thought Romy was the standout, that her sister's eyes were a little cold, lacking the liveliness I saw in Romy's.
My hand reached out toward the passenger seat as a realization hit me.
We'd all been looking all over town. We'd been bribing desk clerks to give us information. We'd been asking servers at all-night diners.
But we hadn't fucking called her.
"Christ," I hissed, hitting the dial button, waiting.
Right to voicemail.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
On a sigh, I ended the last call, bringing up a text instead. She could avoid a call. But she would see a text, she would think on it, which might give me an in if I sent a follow-up one eventually.
If she wasn't playing us—playing me, in particular—then a couple of carefully-worded texts offering to hear her concerns out, to meet her halfway, might get through to her.
Then, hopefully, things could be ironed out.
I wouldn't admit it out loud—mostly for fear that I might be proven wrong—but I wanted to be right, I wanted her to be on the up-and-up. I wanted her back in the house. No, not even the rental house. My house. I wanted her in my house. I wanted her in my bed. I wanted a fuckuva lot considering I'd only known the woman a couple of days.
I shot off the text.
I went home.
I talked to my men.
I shot off the second text.
And then I caught a couple hours of sleep.
To have my subconscious plagued with images of her.
Not just hands on skin, and the sound of her voice when I slipped inside her.
No.
My mind was going deeper.
A home.
A ring.
A horde of little kids at our feet.
I woke up with an unfamiliar ache in my chest, strong enough for my hand to rub there, trying to ease the sensation.
It was a solid moment or two before I remembered the texts.
I scrambled for my phone, unlocking it, scrolling through a couple vague texts from my men.
And then there it was.
A text from Romy.
Only if you come alone she told me.
I couldn't give her that. Technically. It was wrong. There was a hierarchy. I answered to my father. He made the decisions.
I couldn't tell her I could go there alone.
And yet...that was exactly what I did.
Chapter Ten
Romy
Anyone watching these events unfold would likely think I was wishy-washy, flip-floppy, like I was someone who couldn't make up their mind, couldn't stick to any one decision.
To that, I had to admit that it certainly seemed that way. Hell, I even sat there looking at the texts, cursing myself out for being swayed.
I couldn't come to a conclusion about why I felt that way either.
If I was alone and scared and without a proper ID or money or way to get money. Even if I decided to scrap all of this today and go home, I would have no way to do that.
Not that I had any intention of running away from this.
But it wasn't even a possibility.
It was scary to be completely without options. I didn't even have a place to go.
Originally, I thought I could go to an all-night coffee place.
But there had been a sign on the door saying that you had to buy something to stay.
I found myself sitting in a well-lit park near a pier beside a massive hospital, figuring that I was safest in public, and that no one would question my presence near a hospital, figuring I was there with a loved one, and needed to step outside for a minute.
I also figured it wasn't somewhere the Grassi family would come looking for me.
That said, this was as far as my plan could go, wasn't it?
Without the proper identification, without access to money, without my car, I