Bad Sons Page 3

  He releases his hold, and I exhale, unsure whether it’s relief or regret I feel at the loss of his hands. Pressing my lips together, I take a step away from him. I’m not doing this to myself. There’s no point in dragging out an affair which will end in him being unable to choose me.

  “I can’t do this,” I say.

  “Why not?”

  I shrug, tossing a look over my shoulder. “Because I’m not getting paid for it anymore.”

  And with that, I leave the room. I stop in the hallway, keeping my fist wrapped around the doorknob, and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to control my trembling. The look on his face … I could die of regret.

  Chapter 4

  TO SAY I’M HURT by Aida’s harsh words is the understatement of the year. She hit me low. When Jewel first told me she’d paid Aida to seduce me, I felt both furious and embarrassed, as if the tenderness I showed Aida was made to be a mockery.

  But then Aida left a letter. Beautiful words mirroring exactly how I felt. And now, she’s just thrown it all in my face, turning memories I once held precious into a transactional act.

  She’d been dismayed at seeing proof of my wedding ring stamped on my finger, I noticed that much. In a way, she’s right to stay away from me. I’m not a free man yet, but now that I’ve seen her again, I need to reassure her of my intentions.

  The way I went about it just now was all wrong. Something about her makes me impulsive and desperate, two hapless comrades to witness my inevitable stupidity.

  After leaving the spa, I wander around the second floor holding a bottle of water. I take a hallway near the back. One hallway leads to the right and one to the left, both to the new additions. While the first floor consists of luxury suites, the second and third floors have more modest rooms.

  I walk through a massive arched doorway into the newly constructed section. The plank wood floor ends, being replaced by plush carpet lining the hallway straight ahead. Several doors for the rooms line each side.

  Digging in my back pocket, I pull out my phone, wincing at the slight ache in my shoulder. While my movement is much looser than this morning, tenderness lingers from Aida working on the joint.

  I dial Jewel’s number and walk to the end of the hall.

  “Hey,” she answers cheerily.

  “You’re never gonna guess who I just saw.”

  “Elton John?”

  I breathe out a laugh. “What?”

  “You told me to guess, so I did.”

  “Worst guesser ever. I saw Aida.”

  “Oh gosh.” She pauses for a moment. “You okay?”

  I blow out an unsteady breath and sit on a burgundy damask padded bench at the end of the hall, staring out a tall arched window overlooking hemp crops. “I don’t know. She acted strange.”

  “You know you have my blessing, right?”

  I nod even though she can’t see me.

  She continues, “And if she needs you legally separated or divorced, then we’ll do that. I mean, I know we’ve only stayed married this long for Hero’s sake and the ease of being married on all the paperwork, but maybe it’s time, Nando. I can look into getting the process started, okay?”

  Deep inside, I know she’s right, but I’ve gotten comfortable with our life. It’s nice coming home every day to my little girl, and being able to sleep beside her at night when she chooses me. She’s used to my and Jewel’s separate sleeping arrangements, but maybe we’ve reached the point where we need to separate our lives fully.

  “I don’t know. We’ll see. And thanks for saying all that. It means a lot to know you support me.”

  “I’d do anything for you, Nando. You know that. What you did for me and Rome, and what you continue to do is nothing short of amazing. You deserve your own happiness.”

  Her voice thickens at the end, and I know she’s once again feeling shame for tricking me into getting her pregnant.

  “Don’t start that with me, Jewel. You two make me so happy. I would never change anything, because it gave us her.”

  She sniffles. “I know.”

  “The sex was pretty damn good, too. While it lasted.”

  Her cough turns into choking laughter on the other end. “Oh, you’re the worst.”

  “The best.”

  “Shut up.”

  Grinning, I stand from the bench. “All right, well I’ll try video calling sometime tonight to talk with her. Later.”

  “Bye.”

  All the employees stand at attention in the entryway as Eli and Frank enter. My eyes find Aida, who stares straight ahead. Next to her, Abram leans in to whisper something in her ear. A flash of a smile flutters across her face as she angles toward him to reply. His eyes sparkle in amusement as he tosses his head back in quiet laughter.

  Jealousy rises in my throat, burning like a noxious poison.

  Both Eli and Frank wear tailored three-piece suits, but have shed their jackets due to the Virginia heat. Frank wears charcoal colored slacks and a vest, and Eli wears a similar ensemble in navy. Both men have a powerful presence, and I don’t miss the way some of the women shift their eyes between them, a coral shade rising in their cheeks.

  After a quick clap of his hands, Eli calls attention. “We would like to officially welcome everyone to Tempest Estates.”

  The staff releases an energetic round of applause and whistles.

  Eli grins. “For those of you I haven’t met, my name is Eli and this is my business partner, Frank. This week, we will be preparing for a unique set of visitors who are due to arrive in two days. Who here has heard of escape rooms?”

  Several hands raise, mine included.

  “These visitors happen to be escape room enthusiasts, and are paying a handsome sum to be fully immersed in a real-life escape room here at Tempest. They want to come in here and feel like it is a real experience. You are not to hint at nor discuss anything related to their rooms, housekeeping especially. When the game begins, they may get scared. They might scream or pound on the walls or doors. Rest assured that this is all part of what they paid for. Each family will be aware of the panic button in their room that will end the game immediately, so they will always have that option.”

  I stifle a smile. There is no panic button. Once the game begins, it doesn’t end until we get what we need.

  Confessions.

  Eli continues. “Most of the time, you won’t hear anything, because the luxury suites here on the first floor have the highest STC ratings for soundproofing. So, while they’re immersed in their games, business should go on as usual out here. If anything concerns you, speak with the concierge and he will get in touch with us. Any questions?”

  The staff shake their heads in unison. It’s somewhat reassuring how easily the workers take this in stride. People will be screaming and begging to be let out of their rooms, and they’ve just been given a believable reason to ignore it.

  Frank speaks up. “Everyone can head into the dining room, where our chefs have a buffet ready, and we’ll have more time to talk in there.”

  With an unspoken signal, everyone turns and makes their way into the dining room.

  Eli walks over to me with Frank and puts his arms around both our shoulders. “Come on, let’s find a table and eat.”

  After piling our plates high with food from the buffet, Eli, Frank, and myself settle at a table in the center. I glance at the buffet to see Abram behind Aida, talking animatedly as they select food. Sighing deeply, I stab my fork into my spaghetti and meatballs.

  “So, who came up with all the escape room thing?”

  Frank raises his hand with a devilish grin. “I’ve always been obsessed with stuff like that. Sleight of hand, illusions, murder mystery, mind games. All of it. I’ve known Eli’s story for quite some time, so it only took some questions to clarify specifics.”

  “What’s the plan then?”

  Eli and Frank glance at one another. Eli leans forward, speaking softly over the din of conversation. “Each family will begin in their own
suite, with simple puzzles regarding their family history. It’ll start off light and fun, then get heavier. We expect at a certain point, Don or Alfonso will refuse to continue. That’s where the wives and their children come into play as pawns.”

  Frank slices into his flank steak and pops a piece of meat into his mouth. Once he’s done chewing, he continues, “We’re going to do some things that won’t be nice. They’ll seem scary. But that fear is key. Understand that no one’s life is actually at risk. It’s all a mind game.”

  While Bea and my mom know we’re up to something, I’m not sure if either of them have informed Don’s wife, Clara. I assume my mom would have shared something with her. They’ve always been close.

  I set my fork on the plate and wipe my mouth with the cloth napkin before continuing. “I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with that. What if someone has a panic attack? Bea has a history of those.”

  Frank holds up his palm in a soothing gesture. “We’ll take her out before anything gets to that point. If we notice anyone besides Don or Alfonso cracking, we’ll remove them from the game. Those two will stay the entire time.”

  After pushing his cleaned plate away, Eli props his elbows on the table and clasps his hands together. “We have a plan in place to trick them into signing waivers. Every room is equipped with high quality video cameras and audio jacks. Once we have enough evidence, we’ll end it.”

  “What if they try to escape? Don is probably carrying.”

  Frank shrugs. “Windows are bulletproof and walls are concrete. He won’t be able to get out.”

  “Do you have a paramedic on staff?”

  “Yes,” Eli says. “We made sure everyone we hired is up to date on CPR. Our concierge is a multi-talented man. He has a black belt in judo along with paramedic training, but it won’t come to that.”

  Judo, huh? Glancing over at Abram, I mentally size him up. That slice of information makes me primed to fight the dude. Wrestling versus judo. I may lose, but I relish the challenge.

  My eyes shoot over to Frank. “What’s your last name? I always wondered what the P stood for. I remember seeing your signet and the crest with two lions.”

  “My ring.” His jaw works as he folds his arms. “Right. Figured that asshole still had it.”

  I snort out a laugh.

  “My last name’s Prospero.”

  That name … I shoot a look in the direction of Aida’s table, but then force my gaze away. That’s her last name. When she came with me to the prison, her father’s name was Franco Prospero. Frank.

  My eyes widen as the realization hits me. Raucous laughter comes from her table, and my attention focuses on Aida, who’s laughing at something Abram said.

  Frank catches my look and lifts his chin. “You know my daughter?”

  What are the odds? destiny whispers in my ear.

  “Yeah.” I lower my eyes to my plate, suddenly very interested in twirling pasta around my fork. “Met her a few years ago. We, uh, well I actually brought her to see you that first time.”

  “Ah,” is all Frank says, lips pursed as he nods, his eyes locked on me. “Her name is Ana here.”

  “She told me,” I say.

  Frank’s eyes narrow. I wonder how much she told him about us.

  A waiter comes by to remove Eli and Frank’s plates, and both men murmur their thanks.

  “Could I get more coffee, please?” Frank lifts his mug.

  The waiter nods and rushes away.

  After setting his mug on the table, Frank returns his attention to me. “I knew she needed a great job, and I wanted to have my baby girl somewhere close where I could personally protect her against scumbags. So, this was the best opportunity for both of us.”

  “Yeah, it’s great,” I say a bit too enthusiastically. “Really good idea.”

  Frank crosses his arms and leans back with a loud laugh. “I’ll be damned. After all these years of arranged marriage hell that inheritance forced on us, a Montague fell in love with a Capulet, and a Navarre with a Prospero.”

  Eli rumbles out a belly laugh. “That’s some bullshit right there.”

  Fork poised at my mouth, my eyes move between them. I clear my throat. “Look, I’m not—”

  “Shut it.” Frank jabs his fork in my direction. “It’s all over your face, man.”

  Eli shoves a shoulder against Frank and the two men chuckle. In that same moment, Frank’s eyes drop to my left hand, where my wedding band gleams as a shining symbol of my assholery.

  His nostrils flare as his eyes rise to mine. Something unspoken passes between us. In that moment, I know without him needing to utter a single word that if I put his daughter in a compromising position, he’ll take the anger he’s stored for my father out on me.

  Clenching my jaw, I drop my fork on my plate, then rest my elbows on the table. I meet Frank’s eye and lower my chin in silent assent to his unspoken promise.

  The set of his wide shoulders relaxes, and he shoves another sliver of steak into his mouth, grinning at me as he chews.

  Chapter 5

  ABRAM CHUCKS ME UNDER the chin as we leave the Prospero suite the next morning. I motion with my hand for him to lower his head, and he complies. Sliding my fingers along his neck, I straighten his collar.

  “So hopeless,” I tease, looking up at him.

  He laughs and grabs me by the back of my head, kissing my forehead right as Fernando comes around the corner. Abram drops his hand and leans against the wall.

  I startle slightly. “Fernando, hey.” Crossing my arms, I walk closer to him and lower my voice. “What’re you doing here?”

  He looks between me and Abram, confusion bleeding into betrayal, then lowers his gaze from mine and stares at the slate tiles. “I need to see your father.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  When my father spoke to me at length last night, finding out Fernando is Alfonso Navarre’s son, hit me in the gut like a sucker punch. You’d think I’d know this, but all the transactions and communication that took place for Jewel’s plan were all in her friend, Isabel’s, name.

  Him being Navarre blood has changed everything I thought I was once so certain of and ready for.

  I slip the antique brass key out of my pocket and shift my attention toward Abram. “Hey, I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Sure.” He nods and shoves his hands in pockets then walks down the hallway.

  I turn to Fernando. “I’ll let you in. And let me give him a heads up first, okay?” After unlocking the door, I call out, “Hey, Babbo! Got company.”

  After a moment, my father emerges from his room, wearing a ribbed black tank and joggers. He’s breathing heavily, coated in a layer of sweat with tape wrapped around his hands.

  Inside his room, he’s created a gym of his own. There’s a punching bag and a speed bag he uses for at least an hour every day. Boxing is my dad’s therapy, though I’m pretty sure he needs real therapy after everything he’s been through.

  My father smiles widely. “Fernando, what can I do for you?”

  Fernando turns to me briefly.

  I back to the door, keeping my hungry gaze fixed on the man who makes my heart both sing and weep at the same time. “See you around.”

  Tightening his lips, Fernando nods. Pain shines clear in his eyes and there’s nothing I can do to wash it away.

  My day completed, I stretch my tired arms and flex my cramped hands.

  “Need anything?” I ask Abram as I pass by the concierge desk.

  His lips tilt in a smile. “Nah, I’m good. We meeting up later?”

  I nod. “Definitely. I’m just gonna go shower first.”

  “What’s the point of showering when you’re gonna just get all messy again?” His eyes glimmer in mischief.

  Feigning a gagging sound, I turn away. “That’s just gross.”

  “Later,” he calls to my retreating back.

  I raise my hand in a parting wave as I tiredly head to the dining room. After grabbing food, I have
every intention of bringing my plate to my room to eat in solitary silence. But tucked in a corner, I notice Fernando sitting at a table on his own, reading a newspaper and drinking coffee.

  He’s a guest of sorts here. I should make him feel welcome. Nothing wrong with that.

  “Mind if I join you?” I ask.

  His eyes raise from the paper then he nods without saying a word. I set down my plate and plop into my chair. The beef roast is so tender I don’t even have to use a knife. Once I chew and swallow a few bites, I turn my attention to Fernando.

  “How’s your shoulder feeling?”

  He lowers the paper and angles himself toward me, putting one arm over the back of his chair and spreading his thighs in masculine repose. “A lot better. Still a little tight, but I hardly notice it.”

  “I can work on it again, if you’d like.”

  Chuckling softly to himself, he shakes his head. “It’s probably best we keep our distance. Guests are arriving tomorrow anyway.” His eyes grow curious. “So, do you know about … everything?”

  “Of course. I play no major role in it though.” I chew another mouthful of the food, then swallow, my eyes curiously moving to Fernando. “What did you talk about with my dad earlier?”

  Sighing, he rubs one palm down the side of his face. “How do I say this?” For a moment, he purses his lips in thought. “I don’t know your father as well as I know Eli. And there are moments where I feel this volatile energy from him, like he’s capable of something no one expects. But then I wonder if it’s just my imagination.”

  I nod as I take another bite of food. My dad has that air about him. He always has.

  Fernando continues, “So I asked for reassurance that nothing extreme will happen to my father. I just want him in jail, not dead.”

  I press my lips together as I stare at my plate, already knowing my father’s response.

  “He told me to ask you about the day he lost his job. The same day your mother died.” He stares at me.