Page 30 of The Price of Power

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Page 30 of The Price of Power

“Olivia Collins, meet my brother, Matteo.”

Identical twins—I hadn’t been prepared for that.

Still, I remembered my manners and pulled back my shoulders before giving him a slight nod. “Hi.”

“Hello,” Matteo greeted me back. His voice might have been the same as Gabriel’s, but the tone was worlds away, clipped and far more formal. The differences became even more evident when he turned his attention toward Gabriel, crossing his arms as he looked his brother in the eye. “Collins?”

Gabriel let out a hard breath. “The meeting this morning didn’t go as planned.”

“I can see that,” Matteo said, glancing back at me. Even though their features were the same, the differences in their mannerisms and energy made it easy to tell them brothers apart. “Should I take our guest’s presence as a sign that Theo didn’t settle his debt with cash?”

Well, that was blunt. Apparently, unlike the sweet older woman downstairs, Gabriel’s brother didn’t have any illusions about the nature of our relationship.

“Something like that,” Gabriel answered. “After I get Liv settled into my room, I’ll come down to fill you in on the details.”

“She’ll be staying in your room?” Matteo sounded somewhat surprised by that…and more than a little amused. “And how long do you think that will last?”

“We’ll see,” Gabriel said with a shrug.

We would? Another dash of hope filled my chest. It was starting to sound like, despite Gabriel’s insistence that I stay with him for three months, no one who knew him well thought he’d stay interested that long. My heart leapt at the thought I might get out of this nightmare earlier than expected.

“The important thing,” Gabriel continued, “is that all the men know Liv is my guest and completely off-limits. I mean completely.”

Matteo nodded. “Understood.”

Well, that made one of us.

“Come on,” Gabriel said, pulling me forward again.

It was one more flight of stairs before we reached the master suite of rooms on the top floor. Gabriel had barely stepped through the door before he started giving me a rushed tour.

“This is the front room,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the welcoming sofa and armchair arranged in the center of the dark wood-paneled room. Carved maple bookcases and cabinets lined the walls.

“The bathroom is through here,” he flung open the left-hand door, revealing a beautifully restored century-old washroom with perfectly preserved blue and white tiles and a claw-foot tub with gleaming fixtures. My jaw dropped open at the sight of it.

But I barely had time to take it in before Gabriel strode back across the room to the door on the right-hand side. “Walk-in closet is here,” he declared. “Write down a list of your sizes before we go down for lunch, and I’ll contact the woman who does my personal shopping. It should be fully stocked for you by this evening.”

I couldn’t help but shake my head. Even for someone as rich as Gabriel clearly was, that was still too much.

“Or I could ask one of my friends to pack up my things and send them out here,” I tried. At least then, I knew I’d like what I was wearing.

Without even looking at me, Gabriel shook his head. “I already rejected that plan,” he said. “Don’t anger me by bringing it up again.”

“Or?”

It was only a single word, but I still didn’t know where in the world I found the courage to ask it. Especially when Gabriel spun around to stare me straight in the eye.

“Excuse me?” His voice was as hard as the marble fireplace set into the wall across from me.

It was a perfect opportunity for me to back down. To bow my head and mutter “nothing” like a petulant child who’d gone too far.

But somehow, I knew that wouldn’t help me.

Sure, I was afraid—absolutely terrified, to tell the truth. But out of all the worst-case scenarios I’d planned for in my life—encryption to keep my passwords safe, pepper spray on my keychain for muggers, extra bolts installed on the apartment door to keep out burglars—I’d somehow never once imagined ending up the hostage of a bloodthirsty mob boss. I had no clue what the consequences of breaking his unwritten rules might be.

“I just want to know what happens if I make you mad,” I said.

But Gabriel just shook his head. “No, you don’t. I promise you that.”




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