Liar's Lullaby

Chapter 5 Episode 5

“Have you decided what you’re going to do to me?” I ask when the silence starts gettinguncomfortable.

My breath hitches up just a little, but I try and maintain my composure. Men like him never respond toweakness.

“Great. I’m ready to go whenever. Bags are packed and everything.”

He doesn’t laugh this time. Just stares at me—unblinking, unmoving.

“I have a proposal for you,” he says.

Dread pools in my stomach.

“I’m not f*****g anyone,” I say before I can stop myself.

He doesn’t react apart from raising his eyebrows just a little. The scar that cuts across his righteyebrow is illuminated in the darkness.

“Who said anything about f*****g?” he asks. His tone betrays his amusement.

“I know how guys like you operate.”

“Oh, is that so?” he asks, taking another step forward towards the thin grille that separates us. “Andtell me, micetta: how do guys like me operate?”

Just shut up, Charlotte, I warn myself. The more you talk, the harder this gets.

But I’ve never been very good at taking my own advice.

“You use women like objects. Like possessions,” I snarl. “You use women when you want anddiscard them when you’ve had enough. If you plan on passing me around to your men, you can go fuckyourself. I’m not a whore.”

“No, you’re definitely not a w***e,” he agrees. “To be a w***e, you have to be likeable.”

I’m purple with anger. Trembling. I ought to rip this cell from the wall and—

Little by little, I regain control of myself.

When I do, I see the flash of amusement in his eyes.

He can see the war raging inside my head. He likes it. He wants to encourage it.

Don’t give him that satisfaction. Just breathe.

“Do you want to hear my proposal?” he asks once I’ve calmed down again. “Or would you ratherlounge here for another few hours?”

“What is it?” I grind out.

“A child has been… left in my care recently,” he tells me with an odd hitch in his voice. “I needsomeone to look after her for me.”

He wants me to look after a child.

“She’s six, and you’d be responsible for taking care of her. Putting her to bed, feeding her, washingher. Whatever she requires,” he continues.

I’m still trying to process the ridiculousness of his proposal.

When I’ve been quiet for several long seconds, he clears his throat impatiently.

“Are you being serious right now?” I demand.

“I’m a serious man, Charlotte.”

“You want me to be a nanny?” I ask, still dumbfounded.

“If that is the term you prefer, sure.”

I stare at his face, and it slowly starts sinking in that he’s completely serious.

“I… how would this even work?”

“You’d have a room on the compound. It would adjoin Evie’s room, naturally,” he explainsnonchalantly. “I’ll give you a monthly allowance for her expenses.”

I see his lips move, but I’m still stuck on a few glaring details.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I say, raising my hands as though he has me at gunpoint. “Hold on a second. Youwant me to… move in here?”

“It’s a full-time position,” he tells me.

“For as long as you’re useful to me.”

I should’ve expected an answer like that.

I narrow my eyes at him. “I stole, like, forty dollars’ worth of food from you,” I point out. “Thepunishment hardly fits the crime.”

“Unfortunately for you, I’m the judge and the jury, micetta.”

He keeps speaking Italian—at least I think that’s what it is—in this cool, rippling voice. The languageis pure gibberish to me, but whatever the hell micetta means, it’s worming its way into my brain eachtime he uses it.

He says it possessively. But also tenderly.

It’s just another ploy. Another manipulative tactic.

Don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing that it works.

My hands feel clammy and my head spins with frustration.

Nothing makes sense. Nothing is going the way I expected.

“You’re not planning on paying me, are you?” I stammer.

As if this is just a funky twist on a job interview and we’re merely hammering out the details of theposition.

“You’d be living in my home rent-free,” he says coldly. “And you’d get three meals a day. The way Isee it, it’s a win-win situation.”

“How the hell is this a win for me?”

His smile spreads wide. “You won’t have to steal from me anymore.”

I bristle at the arrogance. It makes my decision easy.

“I have a life, you know,” I growl. “I’m not leaving it for you.”

His hair catches the light. It’s dark, thick, lustrous. My fingers itch to run through it.

“I’m giving you an opportunity here,” he says. “You’d be wise to take it.”

He stares at me unfazed. I don’t see disappointment, and I don’t see annoyance, either.

There’s only confidence and the stubborn will of a man who’s used to getting what he wants.

“Very well,” he says. He’s already turning for the door.

I seize the grille, panic gripping my throat and making my words come out hoarse. “Wait! Where areyou going?”

“I have business to attend to,” he says without so much as a glance at me.

“You’re just going to leave me here?”

“I think you need a little more time to consider my proposal,” he says, a self-satisfied smirk dancingacross his lips.

“You can’t do this!” I yell.

His only answer is the resounding echo of the door slamming shut.

As I walk back out through the wine cellar, I have the odd sensation that I’m walking in the wrongdirection.

The fight in her tight little body…

She’s made for this world—for my world—even if she doesn’t know it.

Marco is standing at the entrance of the cellar as I near the staircase. He moves forward to meet me,his eyes cast down with deference.

“Make sure you let her use the restroom,” I tell him. “But no food or water.”

“And don’t underestimate her,” I warn. “She’s a lioness in sheep’s clothing.”

I nod in satisfaction and head upstairs to the ground floor. I make my way to the main common room tosee Evie.

I can’t think of her any other way other than that—just Evie.

It feels too weird to even think of her as “my daughter.”

Let alone to say the words out loud.

Adriano is there, seated far enough away from the child to seem out of place. Franco is the one sittingbeside her on the couch. She appears to be showing him the contents of her bright pink backpack andjabbering excitedly.

But the moment she sees me, she clams up.

Her eyes hit the carpeted floor and the scrunchie she’s holding slips from her fingers.

Franco stands up immediately. “Boss,” he says respectfully in greeting.

I don’t answer. My eyes are fixed on the little girl with sunshine hair.

I walk over to her and pick the scrunchie up off the carpet.

“Here you go,” I rumble.

She takes it silently, but still refuses to meet my eyes.

I realize how out of my depth I am.

Commanding hundreds of men? Effortless.

Slaughtering enemies with my bare hands? Easy.

But talking to a six-year-old?

Apparently, I’ve found my weakness.

I straighten up and glance at Franco. “I have business to attend to. I need you to stay with her whileI’m away.”

Another man might have made it clear what he thinks of the assignment. But Franco is a consummateprofessional.

“Of course, boss,” he says with a nod.

“Where are we headed?” Adriano asks.

My brows knit together as I shoot him a sharp look. “You know damn well the shipment is touchingdown at the airstrip in half an hour.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Adriano assures me. “I just assumed, y’know…” He waves his hand vaguely.“With everything going on here, I thought you’d sit this one out.”

“I’m still the f*****g don,” I snarl. “The kid’s appearance hasn’t changed anything.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it and lets it fall closed again.

Instead, he stays silent as we make our way out of my sprawling mansion and towards the massivewarehouse that adjoins it.

I’ve got a number of different vehicles waiting for me. I choose the Gladiator Rubicon and jump in thedriver’s seat. Adriano rides shotgun.

“You could let me drive this beast once in a while,” he suggests.

I smile. “In your f*****g dreams. I’d get it back in a million little pieces.”

He rolls his eyes and grumbles, “I flip the Ferrari one time and you never let me forget it…”

Chuckling, I zoom out of the warehouse towards the black gates at the end of the long drive.

The same gates Evie supposedly walked up to with the note in hand.

“The cameras didn’t catch anyone else with her?” I muse out of nowhere.

“Huh? Oh, no,” Adriano replies. “I checked a few times. Whoever they were, they made sure to staywell out of range.”

“Something doesn’t feel right about this.”

“You doubting she’s your kid?” Adriano asks. “Because we can always get a paternity test done.”

“No. I know she’s mine,” I say confidently. “I just don’t buy the rest of it.”

“I agree,” he says, drumming his fingers on the center console. “It’s fishy as f**k. But we’ll keep oureyes open from now on. And who knows? Maybe the kid will let something slip once she relaxesaround you.”