Page 44 of Forbidden Eyes
She grabs it, keeping it closed, then looks up at me.
Time passes with nothing said between us. I wait, wondering what it is that she wants to say but can’t. Her lips tremble under my stare, tongue licking over them as if she’s nervous of what she’s about to do. Guess she should be. She’s nineteen and about to deliver some home truths to someone like Quinn Cane, let alone imagining what she’s going to have to say to her father. I’m surprised she’s not shaking more than she is.
My brow rises, a slight smirk settling in to get that snappy attitude back into her. She’ll need it in here. Nerves won’t get her anywhere at all. “You scared, little girl?” I murmur, flexing my fingers under hers. Her face hardens instantly, enough that my dick makes a fucking move in my pants. My voice lowers to a whisper. “You weren’t scared on that hood, Fia. You knew what you wanted then.” Her mouth parts, her breath filtering out, eyes widening. “You wanna play with the big boys, stop acting like the little virgin schoolgirl.” My thumb wraps over her fingers, pressure showing her how much it hurts to be part of this world. I smile at her slight wince, wondering how that whimper might sound if I fucked her.
My hand pulls from beneath hers, my head nodding at the door. She can go in when she’s good and ready. In front of me if that’s what she needs. What the hell does it matter? Either way, I’m about to get a fucking mouthful and she’s about to show this family who she really is: a Vico.
She’s up in my face and pressing her lips against mine before I've caught my next breath. I still completely, surprise catching me off guard, but it doesn't stop me reaching for her ass to bring her closer. She stops kissing me the minute my hands land on her, and arches her brow at me, a slight smirk settling onto her face.
“Screw you,” she whispers.
She yanks on the door so hard I’m surprised it’s still on the hinges, and then she’s off and striding into the room before I have the chance to respond.
“Fia,” Quinn says, dropping his pen onto the table and smiling. “Did you have a good time in Miami? Carter show you around the—”
“How long has my father been a drug dealer?” she launches.
His head rears back, eyes directed straight at mine as I close the door and follow in behind her. She gets in his eyeline again, blocking his view of me. “Don’t look at him. Look at me. Are you, too? Is that all this life of yours is built on?”
“The hell are you talking about?” he asks, leaning back and looking at her.
“No, enough, Uncle Quinn. I want the truth. All of it.”
He stares at her. No movement at all, other than him eventually taking his glasses off and throwing them on the desk beside his laptop. Then he waves his hand at her, pointing at the chair opposite him. “Sit down, Fia.”
“No. I’m not here to be talked at and placated. I’m here to—”
“Sit. The fuck. Down.”
His sharp, aggressive tone makes her shift her ass, and the confidence she wore vanishes. She seems nervous again, hovering, and my feet unintentionally take a half step forward. Christ knows why. Maybe it’s some protective instinct I’m not aware of. Either way Quinn notices, and the goddamn glare that comes from him immediately sets my pulse racing. His eyes bore into mine, ones I’ve known long enough to see where his mind is going.
He knows.
That one step forward gave me the fuck away.
Stupid.
“Carter?” he asks. I stare back at him, mouth a flat, tight line and my hands in my pockets. I might have to answer to him, but he’s only getting information if he asks directly. “Tell me you didn’t.” Fuck her, he means.
“I didn’t.” It’s not a lie, and he’s hardly likely to say that sort of thing out loud with her in the room. We’ll be having that conversation when she’s not here to get in the way of his language.
He nods and turns back to Fia, brow softening for his niece.
“I said sit down, Sofia. Get comfortable and run that question by me again. At least tell me where the hell it came from.”
She inches to the chair, perching herself in it, but she’s anything but comfortable. Her body’s rigid, fingers whitening under the tension with which she’s holding onto the armrest. “I saw it, Uncle Quinn. It’s not Carter’s fault. There was a problem. He had no choice but to take me with him, so don’t throw your weight around at him.”
Cute.
Useless, but cute.
His eyes flick between mine and hers as he reaches for the decanter and pours himself a scotch. I’ve never known him be able to switch from aggressive to pliable in the blink of an eye before now, but he’s managing it for her.
“Drugs. How long has he been doing it?” she continues. “And what for? It’s not like he hasn’t got enough money. Or you. I don’t understand. You both know what I’m doing at college, how important it is to me.”
He sighs and takes a sip of his drink. “Fia, what you think you saw was just something that needed doing. It’s nothing for you to be concerned about. It’s not all roses and rainbows out here in the real world.”
“Not something I need to be concerned about? I was nearly shot at in my own father’s fucking drug deal,” she screeches, standing to pace. “And then I had to watch Carter kill people.” Her body swings round, and she’s glaring at Quinn, her finger pointed. “And then, after we survived that, I was taken to Christ knows where to be ransomed off to my father and had to watch Carter kill more people to save me.”