The Darkest Days (Torn Apart Book 2) Read online

  “Damn you. Shut your filthy mouth,” she said coldly, feeling the brunt of his ugly cruel words. “Just say what you’ve come here to say and leave---”

  “Truth hurts?” Victor sneered. “Vanessa, I could walk out that door right now and never look back, but it won’t change the simple facts. Within these walls, the truth of Armani’s deception breathes, and you have to inhale its nastiness.”

  She inhaled a sharp breath. “I told you to shut---”

  “You stupid fool! Nothing that you shared with him was real. He never wanted you…he never loved you. Don’t you get, Vanessa? The only thing Sebastian Armani wanted was to get under my skin and nothing more. Time for you to accept the truth----you mean absolutely nothing to him.” A look of pure disgust covered his face. “Did you have to bring him up? I was certain that his name wouldn’t crop up this evening, especially with it being our engagement party and everything. Vanessa, this is a celebration of us being back together---this is our chance to put things behind us. Why can’t you just be happy about it?”

  “Why can’t I be happy about it? I’ll tell you why. I hate the very ground that you walk on, and I can’t stand the fact that we’re even sharing the same air space. I hate you,” she said plainly, staring hard into his face, and suddenly the chills racked through her. “Does that answer your question?”

  “Sebastian Armani is responsible for all of this! He’s the very reason we’re not married now!” Victor shouted, raking a hand through his hair. “For Pete’s sake, Vanessa, the man is a raving maniac. He is responsible for the church explosion where many were hurt, and it was just a smokescreen so that he could kidnap you. It nearly cost your life!”

  She shook her head in denial. “No, Sebastian would never do such a cruel and sadistic thing. Killing or harming innocent people in cold blood is something that he would never do. I know him---”

  “I’ll be damned…Armani really did a number on you, didn’t he?” Victor said, amazed, and then as if disgusted with the thought, he trailed away from her and onto the wet bar. He grabbed the chilled wine before pouring it into two champagne glasses. Then, he strode back to her before offering a glass to her. “Even now, after everything that I’ve told you, you’re still wearing those rose-colored glasses where he’s concerned. What will it take for you to see him for the monster that he is?” He blew an exasperated breath. “I don’t want to fight with you about this. So, let’s just have a drink and relax.”

  With a frown, she pushed the glass away. “No, I don’t want anything to drink, and certainly not with you. Besides, you probably spiked it with something---”

  “What’s up with you---you’re not making even the smallest effort to fix things between us. Face the facts, Vanessa. It’s you and me, together again as distasteful as the thought may be to you.” A sneer passed along his face. “At some point, you’re going to have to accept that we’re going to be married, whether you want to or not,” Victor said, placing the full glass of champagne on the perfectly squared white table. “Forget about Sebastian Armani. The bastard played you like a fool, and you’re still standing here pining away for him.” Exasperation filled his tone. “Why can’t you see what’s right in front of you? I love you, Vanessa, and I always have. Give me a chance.”

  “A chance? Are you really being serious? Have you not heard the words that I’ve said? I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want any part of you,” she retorted sharply, returning his cold look with her own. “Why is that such shocking news to you? Let’s not forget the big reason why I abhor you so much. You’re threatening to harm the two people that I love most in this world---”

  “And I will go through with the threats! Especially if you insist upon harping on it every second! And you’re doing it again!” he shouted, advancing towards her threateningly, and then stopped short of her. The pure violence radiated from his long form, and the thunderous expression on his face spoke volumes.

  Rather than shrinking back from his anger, she held her ground. The wrong thing to do would be allowing him to think that she was afraid of him, although she realized that the danger was there. Forcing herself to hold his stare, she asked, “What do you mean?”

  “The day of our last wedding,” he spat, flexing his hand slowly into a balled fist. Yet, it didn’t take the edge off his temper. “You were doing the same thing---telling me how this was going to be a loveless marriage and how you’d never love me. Trying to find excuses to leave me.”

  She studied him closely.

  Just what was he not saying?

  Like why she was desperate to flee…

  “I’m taking it that history is repeating itself, and I’m behaving in the same manner,” she probed further. “What happened before the wedding? Why was I so against the idea of marrying you like I am now---”

  “Come on Vanessa---can’t you just cut the crap, already? You know why I would say such a thing. I’m still not buying this amnesia act that you’re putting on. It’s a convenient escape so that you don’t have to face reality. And that reality is that you know my father is in control of you, me, and everything.”

  She fought to keep the confusion from her face.

  But, perhaps, she was getting to the actual truth…

  “You’re right, I am aware of your father’s influence on things,” she said, lifting her chin, and decided to play along. How else would she get to the bottom of things? “I don’t know what your father will do next----”

  “If you cross the line, he’ll make you pay, and because you’re directly tied to me----Why’d you have to snoop around and put your nose where it didn’t belong?” Victor whined, and suddenly seemed younger than his thirty-two years and more like a child. “If you hadn’t violated my trust and collected evidence against me and my father, this wouldn’t be happening.”

  “Evidence---what kind of evidence and where is it exactly?” she hedged cautiously.

  Victor raised a brow. “Tucked away somewhere in that amnesiac mind of yours, I suppose.” Then, he shook his head in irritation. “That’s not important. Just know that because of your actions, Father has enough ammunition to keep your damn mouth shut. Shouldn’t everyone be as lucky as me---to have a father with such power and influence? Although he’s a ruthless and proud man, he’s willing to do anything to protect me,” Victor claimed, eyes glazed over, and they seemed almost feverish. It’d be easy to fathom that he existed along the fringes of insanity. Then, he looked at her directly. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be a dead woman right now. So, you have me to thank for being alive.”

  Alive, she mulled, looking away from him.

  She didn’t even feel her heart beat anymore.

  It’d died the moment that she’d been separated from Sebastian and Meghan. She defined the phrase dead-woman-walking. Inside, down to the deepest depths of her soul, she was dead emotionally.

  As Victor spoke, her thoughts moved to the present again, and she started.

  “The engagement party is within the hour. Unfortunately, we’ll be traveling separately since I have business to attend to beforehand,” Victor retorted, finishing his drink fast and then slapped the empty glass down alongside her full one. He faced her with a tight smile. “A limo will bring you to the festivities. When you get there, be sure to play the part well or there will be dire consequences. Who knows? After this evening, we might even consider taking our relationship to the next level.” His words were stone cold. “Soon, you will reciprocate my sexual feelings---regardless if that’s willingly or unwillingly on your part. I think that I should be commended for being so lenient with you anyway. Not once have you given me any signs of physical intimacy beside a few chaste kisses, and all those came before your accident, of course. Certainly, you can agree that it’s time that I taste your wares. No more excuses on holding out---”

  “You’re vile and disgusting. I want you to leave---now,” she said coldly, shaken by his spoken threat, and turned away from him again. “Get out of here.”

&n
bsp; “Just think about what I said, but know that I take what I want,” Victor snapped unkindly, already heading for the door. “Don’t make things harder than necessary. I’ll see you, there. Goodbye.”

  Through the glass pane, she watched as he strode for the door. When it closed behind him, she released a pent-up breath before sagging with relief.

  But, still, the sense of impending horror lingered.

  ***

  “I’ve always strongly believed in the element of surprise. The bastard won’t even see me coming,” Sebastian muttered bitterly, and his piercing green gaze fell on Marc. “So, it is the West Gala Hotel as we suspected.”

  “At 8:30 pm, the engagement party will be in full swing and that means we have roughly an hour to get in. The west end is undergoing some type of construction, so that appears to be the most vulnerable area. That’s our entry point,” Marc muttered, tapping the blueprint with a well-manicured finger. “I’ll tell you now, getting inside is going to be dangerous. Hell, let me be frank, potentially deadly if we’re not careful enough.”

  “Akin to the exploits and escapades like those of secret agents? Let me guess…I’m agent 009, and who the hell will you be, 0010?” Sebastian joked, arching a brow, but still his smile lacked any humor. “Don’t worry, I’m prepped---all my spy gear is intact.”

  Straightening from the other side of the desk, Marc passed him a long look. “Dude, this is serious, and nothing to joke about---”

  “You don’t fucking think I know that, Marc?” he snapped, throwing him an angry glare. “The people that I love and care about---their entire lives hinge on whatever happens tonight. And I simply will not screw up for any reason.”

  “Damn it, you’re coming unglued, and you’re wearing your emotions on your sleeve. But, don’t tighten your hands around my balls because of it. I’m on your side, alright? So, chill.”

  He blew a hard breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry. There’s no time for any bullshit. Go on with what you were saying.”

  After giving him another long look, Marc continued. “Security will be tight. Once we’re in, we should be prepared for anything---I’m sure you’re aware of that already. However, we won’t be complete sitting ducks. I’ve managed to scalp some VIP passes and get our men in. With all hope, you won’t go AWOL once I reveal the cost of that little endeavor. Let’s just say that it’s going to hurt that bank account of yours like a serious mofo.”

  “Can you believe the ego of those bastards---taking full control of the hotel and allowing limited access like they’re royalty?” he asked with disgust, throwing Marc another look. “They’re nothing but a joke.”

  “No doubt,” Marc agreed readily. “The best of the worst will be there tonight and that means that we have to take extra precautions.” Staring at him intently, he paused. “We can’t rule out the prospect of someone getting hurt…or killed. And that includes you. Are you prepared to lose your life over this?”

  Turning away from him, Sebastian faced the outside world. The dark mood of the Atlanta summer night was as somber as his own, he noted, staring out the study window at Widow’s Pointe. Yet, the deep woods surrounding the massive estate showed signs of restlessness as well. Also, he noticed the lone figure trailing along the edge of the woods. Of course, recent events had mandated tighter security, and they were stationed all over the sprawling 300 acre estate.

  Sure, it was a given that he had Santini on a wild goose chase with his enemy believing that he was in upstate New York. Like his parent’s grand home, his own estate was like an impenetrable fortress. But, still, it wouldn’t be wise to be lax and not be on guard at all times.

  As his green gaze focused, he caught sight of his reflection in the glass pane, and unsurprisingly, apprehension played along his rugged features. No doubt his thoughts were held hostage by Marc’s words.

  He frowned hard.

  Of course, he’d considered the possibility of bloodshed.

  Even his own---

  For weeks, his thoughts had been on constant replay, envisioning a 1940’s gangster-style scenario with firing guns and dead bodies. But, he was willing to risk everything to free Vanessa from that monster, regardless of the potential deadly consequences. Protecting Meghan was at the forefront of his mission as well. If he didn’t make a stand, his daughter would be left vulnerable to unspeakable cruelty.

  That, he vowed, tensing further, he would not stand for. Even worse, hadn’t people that he loved paid the price before? The brunt of his past failure in that regards still haunted him, he mulled, stiffening.

  He’d lost his wife, his son…

  And he’d be damned if he lose anyone else in the process.

  “To hell with the cost---it’s the least of my concerns. We’ll do whatever’s necessary to make things happen,” Sebastian retorted sharply, facing him again. “Vanessa doesn’t need to spend another moment in the presence of that sick fucker. There’s no telling what kind of hell he’s put her through already,” he murmured as his frustration peaked. “How could I have let things get out of control like this? Because of my short-sightedness, Vanessa’s paying for my mistakes. She’s in trouble because of me.”

  With silent, stony features, Marc watched him from the other side of the desk. Still, there were flashes of pity in his dark eyes. “Didn’t I warn you that something like this would happen? From the very beginning, I cautioned you against involving Vanessa in your little scheme. But, it’s too late for regrets. We can only operate from where things are here and now. And from where I’m standing, the situation appears to be more than bleak.”

  At Marc’s word, the pain and guilt hit him hard.

  He slammed a hard fist against the desk. “Damn it, Marc!” he yelled, releasing a round of fiery expletives. “How could I have jeopardized Vanessa and Meghan’s lives like this?”

  This time, the swiveling chair received his fiery ire as he kicked it hard, sending it careening into the desk. If that weren’t enough, he shoved the papers and other items from it with one angry swipe of his arm. But, still, it did little to cool the raging anger that he directed at himself.

  With a look of sympathy, Marc watched him in silence.

  “I can’t lose Vanessa…I can’t lose Meghan. I have to fix this,” he whispered woundingly, and the anger drained from him at once. Bracing shaky hands against the empty desk, he stared at Marc. “If anything were to happen to them, I don’t know what I’d do---”

  “We’re not going to let anything happen,” Marc interrupted, eyeing him close. “Dude, I know it’s hard as hell, and while I’m close to things, I’m not even going to pretend that I know how you feel. If I were in your position---hell, I don’t know how I’d react. But, you need to take a step back, and try to look at things objectively. We’ll have our own men in place, stationed at all levels. If the heat rises, we’ll spread our own fire.”

  He gave a curt nod. “Before we go, I’m going to make sure that the place is airtight. Even though I have the utmost confidence in my security staff, I still don’t feel good about leaving Meghan. Thank God that Rosa’s here to lend some sense of normalcy for the poor kid. Heaven knows that I haven’t been able to do that as of late.”

  “Give Meghan some time, she’ll come around.”

  “My own daughter hates me,” he sighed with regret, straightening to his full height. “Fuck, I hate me.”

  “Megan loves you. Come on---you know that. She’s trying to deal with the things that have happened. With you having been locked up and Vanessa just up and gone out of the blue without a word, she doesn’t understand what’s happening. The poor thing,” Marc said, shaking his head, and the pity played across his face. “But, kids are resilient. They’re always a lot tougher than we give them credit for.”

  “She’s lost too much already---her mother, brother, and now Vanessa,” he muttered, staring unseeingly at a point across the room. “That’s too much to ask of anyone, especially a young innocent child. What makes it worse is that all of this---ev
erything, it’s my fault. But, I intend to make things right. Vanessa, Meghan, and I will be a family. We will be together again.” Finally, he moved from behind the desk before stopping alongside Marc. “To hell with the pity party…let’s go.”

  Chapter 2

  Roughly a half hour later, Sebastian made way along the deserted backstreet. Still, keeping his eyes downcast, he tugged the dark hood closer around his face and hoisted the gym bag higher on his shoulder.

  Even from the rear-side stance, the view was admirable, he noted, looking up.

  The grand West Gala Hotel loomed dead center of the other surrounding structures along 22nd West Avenue, and it was a mesmerizing sight against the starry backdrop. Tall, erect, standing at 30 stories, the impeccable structure contained 1350 rooms and more than 60 suites. The signature Solaris Red dome capped its top, giving it even a more distinctive flair.

  But, undoubtedly, there’d be another six or seven months before the multi-million dollar renovations were complete, Sebastian mulled, cutting a sharp right, and slipped under the yellow-ticker caution tape. The tell-tale signs of undergoing construction were evident along the back alley. The space was nearly shrouded in darkness except for the thin sliver of moonlight peeking through. Of course, that fact helped the situation in more ways than one.

  Like enabling his efforts this very evening---

  Though the evening was young, the Atlanta skyline was laden with clusters of bright stars. A pale quarter moon hung high and offered some visibility. When the dark shadow moved a few feet away, he tensed, but then relaxed as Marc stepped into full view.