Page 37 of The Price of Power

“I was going to call him a little later, but I’ll do it now,” I said with a nod.

“Here. Use this.” Matteo reached into his desk drawer. A second later, he pulled out an older model phone in a Milwaukee Brewers case. Liv’s phone—it had to be. “Tony found it on the floor of the office after you left. Apparently, it was still on, and the voicemail she’d been sending was still recording.”

A smile curled my lips at the thought of Theo listening in horror to every word we’d said. If the little prick had even an ounce of conscience, it would kill him to hear what had happened to his sister.

“Well, that will save me the time of explaining the situation,” I said with a laugh as I took the phone off his desk and pocketed it.

“What are you going to tell him?” Matteo asked, looking much more relaxed.

“The truth,” I said. “That he has ninety days to get me every last cent he owes us, or I’ll take his business and his sister. Right before I take his life. “

Chapter Twelve

OLIVIA

Gabriel hadn’t been lying. By the time that evening rolled around, the walk-in closet was filled with more designer-label clothes than I could wear in a year, let alone three months.

On top of all the pants and shirts and dresses, there were sweaters and jackets—things that would never see the light of day in a New York summer.

And the shoes.

So many shoes. All of them heels—the tall, towering kind I’d only seen on supermodels and drag queens. God only knew what Gabriel had been thinking when he’d told his personal shopper to go out and buy the highest stilettos she could find.

Maybe he thought if I didn’t have a pair of sneakers, I wouldn’t be able to run away.

I wouldn’t put it past him.

Apparently, just thinking about Gabriel seemed to summon him. I’d only been in the closet for a minute, looking over the massive haul, when I heard him clear his throat behind me.

Even though the sound had come from inside the closet door, I didn’t dare look over at him.

I wasn’t about to make that mistake again.

The first thing I’d done when he’d returned to the bedroom from talking to his brother was to lift my head and look him straight in those dark, bottomless eyes. Despite the solid hour I must have spent in that chair, berating myself for my body’s reaction to him and swearing that I wouldn’t fall into that trap again, the instant he was in front of me, all those embarrassingly hot feelings bubbled right back up inside me.

I’d done a relatively decent job of tamping them back down again, but only by making a concerted effort to keep my head tucked, my mouth shut, and my hands to myself. It had made for a dead boring afternoon, but I figured that was better than a shamelessly embarrassing one.

“So, what do you think?” Gabriel asked after a few seconds of strained silence had passed between us.

“The same thing I thought this afternoon,” I answered honestly. “That it’s way too much, and you wasted your money.”

“That’s not your concern,” he said, his voice coming closer with every word until the next ones sounded like they were coming from right behind me. “It’s my money to waste.”

Oh, really? Angry heat—the kind that had nothing to do with the closeness of his body—flared up in my cheeks.

Bite your tongue, I silently warned myself. Remember what happened the last time you talked back? Bite your tongue. Bite your?—

“So it’s okay for you to blow a small fortune on designer clothes for a hostage, but?—“

“We’ve been over this, Liv,” he said. “You’re not a hostage.”

Urg. At least now, I knew better than to try and argue semantics with him.

“Fine…for an unwilling guest.” Since he was still firmly behind me, I gave in to the temptation to roll my eyes. “How’s that?”

He answered with a dark and mocking laugh. “You can pretend to be unwilling if it soothes your pride, but we both know that’s not the whole truth.”

Yeah, I went ahead and ignored that, steamrolling right ahead.