Ice Queen : Echoes of the Underworld (Echoes from the Underworld) Page 2

  The way he looks at Sofia is like a fairy tale. She is his everything, and he is hers. What must it be like to be loved by someone, and to love them back so completely that it consumes the air around you?

  Sitting back on my pillow, I let out a long sigh. I gave up on the thought of love a long time ago. I knew my husband would not be one of my choosing. I understood that I would always be a voiceless, choiceless, wife. It wasn’t until I saw Sofia and Nicolai together that I even dreamt of something more. I thought love and fairy tales were only in the movies and romance novels, not a real beautiful thing. Now I see what they have, and I want that too.

  I laugh to myself. I am being ridiculous. No one would want me anymore. I am a traitor, a cold and heartless woman who delivered the weapon that killed her brother. I have no home. The only thing slightly tempting about me is my inheritance, my groom's prize for taking on such shame. I don’t know that any amount of money would compensate for that, nor any man stupid enough. It is my only solution though. I have to find a man who would rather his pockets be fuller than his pride. When Sofia returns, I will ask her to help me. She will understand.

  A small knock at my door startles me, and I sit upright and place the book I am reading down. “Who is it?” I ask.

  “Laurence, mam. I am the masseuse,” a deep voice answers. “I am here for the massage you ordered.” Scrunching my face up, I walk over to the door and open it. “I didn’t order a massage,” I tell him.

  My jaw drops to the floor the moment my door is fully open. Laurence is no man. He’s a demigod. Olive skin, muscular toned arms, eyes that look like glass reflecting back at the ocean. Lord have mercy, he’s sex personified. Shirtless, wearing only loose cotton lounge pants that sit low on his hips, and his chiseled muscles carve a perfect pattern of masculinity across his torso. Clearing his throat, Laurence brings my attention back to his face. My cheeks burn with embarrassment. Hell, I may as well wipe the drool from my mouth. I am so obvious.

  “I didn’t order a massage,” I repeat.

  “No?” he says, a hint of a French accent on his tongue. “Mr. Valsetti said you requested my services.”

  “Which one?” I snarl, crossing my arms over my chest. His brows crease, confusion paints his pretty face. I shake my head with frustration. “Was it, Nicolai?”

  “No, mam.”

  “Never mind.” I shake my head with a sigh. “I know which one. It’s fine.” Uncrossing my arms, I rake my eyes over him one last time. “Thank you, but I don’t require your services today.”

  “Are you sure, madam? I have been hired to give you a personal and thorough treatment today. If you know what I mean?” His winks seductively. God, I would love to say I wasn't tempted, but my strict and proper upbringing yells a big ‘NO’ in my face. I shake my head as if it would rid away my naughty thoughts.

  “I am positive,” I assure him. “Please make sure Mr. Valsetti pays you anyway. I don’t want you to have completely wasted your time.”

  Stepping back, I close the door quickly before I change my mind. How dare he? This is Alessio’s doing, I know it. I didn’t miss the smirk on his face this morning when I passed him in the kitchen. It was a look of mischief, and now I know why.

  I try to do anything to distract myself. Read, listen to music, scroll through social media on my phone, but my mind cannot erase the ill thoughts I have of Alessio. The more time that passes, the angrier I become, until I just can’t take it anymore. Storming down the stairs, I set out on a mission to find him and give him my piece of mind. He is not in the kitchen, by the pool, or in the library, nor in his room. The last place I check is Nicolai’s office. I don’t know what I am thinking when I barge through the door without even knocking. My mind is so clouded with rage that my body acts of its own accord.

  Luca immediately looks over the top of his laptop at Nicolai’s desk. His lips turn up at the sides with disgust when he sees me. All the breath in my lungs abandons me. The hostility in the air is stale and pungent.

  “Excuse me?” he barks. “Can I help you?”

  My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I’m frozen in place, staring at the man who killed my family. This is the first time since I have been living with Sofia and Nicolai that I have ever been in a room alone with Luca. There is so much I want to yell at him, but at the same time, I have nothing to say. Even though Luca knows that it was me that helped save him, even though he knows I lost my brother as a result, he still looks at me as though I am the enemy. He still treats me with such contempt. Does he forget he murdered my father and my brother?

  “Well?” He cocks his head, pinning me with his stare. Luca is tall, dark, and handsome. His Italian heritage predominates in his features, yet his soul is ugly. All the good that may have once been in him has been destroyed with his hatred, his power, and his greed for vengeance.

  “I found it.” Alessio walks into the office holding up a folder. He entered through another doorway to the right-hand side of the office that I had not noticed before. It must lead to a file room, or a storeroom perhaps. Stopping mid-stride, he looks at me, then to Luca. His eyes widen a little as a sense of awareness washes over his face.

  “Everything okay, Eden?” he asks, placing the folder on Luca’s desk, then walks over to stand in front of me. This is the first time Alessio has addressed me without a hint of sarcasm, jest, or intention. Tears threaten to fill my eyes, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing them. I swallow thickly trying to alleviate the lump forming in my throat, but I’m still speechless. No matter how much I force my body to move, implore my mouth to open, nothing cooperates. I can imagine what I must look like to the both of them. Pathetic, weak, and completely ridiculous.

  “Miss Kastrati just barged in here like she had an agenda, but now the little rat can't seem to find her voice.” Luca chuckles. I expect Alessio to follow suit, but he doesn’t. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I would say he looks concerned for me.

  “She is looking for me,” Alessio answers sharply, taking my hand and leading me out of the office and down the hall.

  I shake my head and pull my hand from his defensively. “Let go of my hand.”

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” His eyes frown down at me. They are a dreamy hazelnut colored brown. Soft, smooth, and inviting.

  “You,” I snap. “You are my problem right now because I just received a visit from a half-naked man offering to do inappropriate things to me.”

  Alessio’s brows arch; his devilish smirk returns. I wish to God he was not so ridiculously hot. I pay attention to what he is wearing. It’s not his usual attire of jeans and shirt. He is in a business suit with his slacks hugging his muscular thighs and accentuating his lean waist. The outfit makes him look older, appear sterner, and professional. His cheeky grin brings me back to the reality that he is still a wolf in sheep's clothing.

  “Oh?” he remarks. “He wasn’t to your standards?”

  “No, he wasn’t,” I bite back. “I don’t think you're funny, Valsetti. I think you're disgusting, and that was completely tasteless.”

  Alessio laughs. “Don’t be such a prude. I sent Laurence to help you relax a little. Lighten the fuck up.”

  I purse my lips, arching my brows. “Lighten up, ha?” I mock. “In this household? Where I have to see the very man that murdered my family every day?” Shaking my head at him, I feel the anger inside me heat my skin. “You are delusional.”

  “You chose to be here, Principessa, so don’t go brooding around the place as though you're forced to stay.” He folds his arms across his chest, leaning his back against the wall.

  “I am not here by choice.” I huff, with my hands on my hips in full defense mode. “In case you've forgotten, my family has been wiped out by yours.”

  “You have enough money to last you ten lifetimes. You could get your own place.”

  I laugh at his stupid suggestion. “You're not very smart, are you Valsetti?” He looks at me genuinely perplexed. How the hel
l doesn't he know? I had just assumed Nicolai would have disclosed to him my situation.

  “Enlighten me then, Principessa.”

  “Stop calling me princess,” I snarl at him. He looks a little surprised that I know Italian. My mother was Italian, she had me study it when I was young. The lessons stopped when she died though, so I am not fluent, but I know enough.

  “Prefer me to call you Regina di ghiaccio then? Or perhaps you’d rather rattito?”

  He thinks his name calling will upset me further. Ice queen and rat are names I’ve become accustomed to now, so his efforts are fruitless. “You’re childish.” I arch my brows, looking unimpressed.

  “You’re stuck up.”

  “You're intolerable.”

  “You’re fucking sexy.” He draws out his words seductively, his thick Italian accent par for the course.

  Grrr. I practically scream in his face before turning on my heels and storming away. I can’t stand to be around him a second longer. He infuriates me and is so arrogant. Why do I let him get to me like that? He doesn’t know the real reason I am here. He doesn’t know me at all.

  Why do I even care what he thinks?

  Four

  Alessio

  I watch Eden storm off down the hallway. What the hell was that? That would have to be the first time since she has been here that she has shown any emotion. I am not sure whether she was going to cry or hit me. Feisty little thing.

  Walking back into Nicolai’s office, Luca looks at me with a cocky grin. “What was that all about?”

  “I sent a masseuse up to her room for a full-service massage as a joke. The girl needs to lighten up. Obviously, though, she didn’t find it funny.” I sit on the chair in front of the desk and rest my hands behind my head. Luca has been taking care of the business while Nicolai is away on his honeymoon; it looks strange seeing him here. Luca is much like me, not much of a suit and tie man, sticking more to hands-on action, than paperwork and politics.

  “Why are you wasting your time on her? She is a Kastrati rat.”

  “That rat saved your life,” I inform him.

  “A rat is still a rat,” he spits. “Besides, she did it for Sofia, not for me.”

  “Regardless, you’re alive because of her.”

  “Alessio, I killed both her father and brother. I don’t think Eden wants to be BFFs.”

  I stretch out my legs, cracking my knuckles as my mind wanders over her mysteriousness. “What do you know about her? Did Nicolai tell you why she is here?”

  “Juna fucked her over. It’s like he knew she would inevitably betray him. He made a clause in her inheritance so she would not get a cent of it until she is married. Even then, her husband gets all of it anyway.”

  “That’s brutal,” I reply. “Why doesn’t she go live with Antonio? Surely anywhere would be better than here?”

  “From my understanding, Antonio doesn’t want her either. Think about it. She’s a traitor.” Luca shuts his laptop and considers me for a moment. “What’s with all the questions? You got a thing for her or something?”

  I laugh at his ridiculous comment. “Of course, I don’t.”

  “I get it, Alessi. She’s hot, and you’re... well, you. But take my advice, man. Stay the fuck away. She is dangerous. Besides, I think one Kastrati in the family is already one too many.”

  “Jesus, man, calm the fuck down. No one is talking about marriage here. I was just curious about her, that is all. She has that whole broody, mysterious vibe going on.”

  “Speaking of marriage. What’s your plan? You have two weeks until Nicolai returns, and then you will be expected back in Naples. The clock is ticking by fast. You don’t have much time left to find yourself a bride.”

  “Don’t remind me.” I sigh. “I don’t want to just marry some random woman to appease my father, nor do I want to marry for the sake of good business deals. I am not ready to settle down. I am too young, and let’s face it, with my party reputation, I am not really appealing marriage material.”

  “You say it like your world is about to end. Marriage is not the end of your life, Alessi. Just find a decent looking woman who is easily controlled and willing to stay that way for the right price tag.”

  “Shallow much?”

  “I am just being real here. It’s either that, or you open yourself to the possibility of love.”

  “How would you suggest I do that?” I chuckle. “Love doesn’t just walk right up and tap you on the shoulder saying, ‘Here I am.’”

  “You could try dating one woman at a time, not five, for starters.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault that they all fall at my feet.” I laugh.

  “Just pick one of your regular women. Take her home, play the happy couple for a while to keep your father satisfied, and then break it off. When he pressures you into finding a wife again, you could say you’re too heartbroken to move on with another woman for a while. It will buy you some time.”

  Shaking my head, I rake my fingers through my hair frustrated. “I have tried to fool my father in the past. He sees straight through it. I need a better plan than that, Luca.”

  “You didn’t pick the right girl, that’s why. You will need to find a woman of substantial standing within the underworld. She would have to have something worth risking to be with you, or else he won’t believe you.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  “Maybe so, but you only have two weeks, so you best start looking.” Luca looks at his watch and stands abruptly. “I have to go. I’ve got dinner plans in town. I will see you tomorrow.”

  My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and stare at the screen. Jesus, speak of the devil.

  “Father,” I answer.

  “Alessio, when will you be home? I have the Russo’s on my back about shipments. You have been gone far too long.”

  I close my eyes, tolerating his verbal vomit, then tune out for a while. It’s always the same. Alessio, ‘You should be doing this’. ‘Alessio, you should be doing that.’ The old man never gets off my back.

  It is hard to respect a man who likes to keep his hands clean in the underworld by dirtying those of his son. I run all the underground and illegal dealings for the family. My father deals with the coffee trade for Nicolai in Italy. I am at the forefront of the tobacco and weapons deals. Orders are passed down; I am expected to obey. The blood never reaches his feet, yet mine are stained in it every day. I do it willingly and buy my time, for one day soon, I will be the man in charge, and I will be the one giving the orders.

  “Alessio, are you listening to me?” Papa belches, momentarily deafening me.

  “Yes, Papa. I hear you. I will be home in two weeks when Nicolai returns.” Standing, I walk over to the window and look out over the estate. I love the green, spacious serenity of Nicolai’s property, but it is nothing like the view I have overlooking Naples bay from my home. I do miss it. It is, after all, my home. I am not avoiding it. I am avoiding the man barking down the phone at me.

  “Good,” he replies sternly. “I have found a suitable wife for you.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Georgina Costa. Her father and I have been discussing the arrangement.” He says it so casually like he is discussing the weather and not MY LIFE.

  Fisting my hands tightly, I try to hold back my anger. “I already told you, I will not have you arrange my marriage for me.”

  “Roberto has been learning the ropes in your absence,” he informs me.

  I squeeze my hands even tighter. I am ready to blow but will not give him the satisfaction of it. He expects it. He wants it. My failure is his reward. “Roberto is not your son. I am,” I remind him with as much decorum as I can muster.

  “He may not be my biological son, but he is married to your sister, so he is family nonetheless.”

  “What the hell is it with you? What is the rush?” I break my resolve, spitting my frustration at him.

  I hear his sigh of annoyance through the line. “I told you this
already. I am old and tired. Alessio, I am ready to step down.”

  “So, what difference does it make to you whether I have a wife or not? That will not make me a better boss.”

  “Yes, it will,” he snaps. “Don’t you get it? The men may envy you with all the women you parade around and take to your bed, but they do not respect you. They do not see you settled, so you have nothing to lose. A man that does not have anything to lose, is dangerous. He makes rash decisions and only cares about himself.”

  For the first time, I actually see my father’s point. I can clearly understand where he is coming from. However, a woman, not of my choosing, is not the answer either. I would not love her; therefore, I would still have nothing to lose. Of course, he will not see my point of view. My father is stubborn and arrogant. His old school ways will never be changed.

  Eden walks out onto the path in the garden, coming into my view. Her golden hair is loose, the afternoon breeze blowing it softly across her face. She can’t see me through the tinted window, so I don’t have to hide from her as I watch her take a seat on the garden bench. The green shrubbery protects her from everyone’s view but mine. Drawing her legs up to her chest, she hugs them close to her, staring up at the sky as though she is making a silent prayer. Maybe something like, ‘Get me the hell out of here.’ I feel for her. She didn’t really have much of a choice to begin with. She chose to save her cousin, who was good and innocent, over her brother, who was corrupt and vicious. I don’t blame her for the decision she made. Hell, it saved my cousin. So as far as I am concerned, she is a hero, not a traitor.

  I understand the Kastrati’s quarrel with Eden, because absolute loyalty to your family is an unspoken code in the underworld. She broke a very sacred law. Unfortunately, no matter which way you look at it, she would have had to betray a family member regardless. Eden is not naive; she knows she doesn't belong here. She is aware that it is dangerous for her to stay, yet she has nowhere else to go. Like me, she is being forced into something she does not want, yet can see no other choice. Is that what draws me to her? Our likeness? Or is it more to do with the way she owns her title. Eden does not walk around acting as though she is owed something, nor does she expect anyone to be empathetic of her situation. She unapologetically owns her betrayal, and I respect her for it.