The Twelve Zenati Pt. 19

"I see," Armando's voice was deeper and more serious now.

"Today I went to meet with my contact and got blindsided by something that I didn't expect, and Noah got dragged into danger because I hadn't considered the possibility that the strays would be picking at the remains of Remington's empire and be ready to rip each other apart for a small corner of it. What I'm doing has become somewhat more dangerous now, and I don't want Noah in the line of fire. I need you to order him to go home. Take him with you tonight," Marcella said as she got to the point of why she had called him and asked him to meet her here.

Armando leaned back in his chair, tilted his head back and laughed heartily. A genuine good-humoured laugh that shocked Marcella. She had been serious. Surely this man would want his son's safety, above everything else. Why the hell was he laughing as if she had just told a joke? He must have noticed the look on her face, because he finally sobered and looked at her.

"You're serious, aren't you?" he asked, and when she nodded, his eyes widened. "What makes you think that I have that sort of power over my son?" he asked, truly perplexed by the request, and wondering if she had gotten to know his son at all.

"Respect your elders. Obey your parents. Trust me, I know Table law," she grumbled.

"But you obviously don't know my son if you think that he will leave you to face whatever danger you're in alone just because I tell him to," Armando chuckled and shook his head in disbelief.

"You don't understand. Noah's in real danger and I can give you a reason to use to make him see why he needs to return with you," Marcella said, hating that this conversation was not going the way that she expected.

"I think that you had better tell me the whole story, don't you? Based on what you have said so far, the only way I can see that my son will come with me is, if I insist you accompany us because you are possibly in greater danger than him, if you stay here alone." Armando dropped any semblance of affability then and spoke seriously while pinning her with a dark gaze.

"Fuck!" she swore quietly. "I should have known better than to believe that I could trust anyone associated with the Tables." She sagged. "Do what you want, then." She made to get up and move away from him.

"What I want is to help you and my son, but I can't if you don't tell me the whole story. No one knows I am here, not even my wife. Sit down and talk to me. Nothing that you say will go any further than the two of us, if that is what you want, but I can't make an informed decision about Noah unless I know the danger that he is in." He had reached out and grabbed her wrist loosely as he spoke, guiding her back down to her seat. "Please, Marcella, you can trust me. I would never do anything to harm you. I know that words from my brothers and I are cheap right now, but my actions in coming here alone must count for something."

"Noah knows it all anyway, now," she sighed. "Or, at least, the highlights." So, she proceeded to tell him the story of her investigation, her seduction of Vinnie Vegas and finding Olivia's boat, of the deal they had struck for more information, none of which Noah knew the details about. Then of the meetings with the first messenger and her meeting today that had blindsided her. When she had finished she sat back, feeling exhausted, and sighed.

"Me taking Noah home wouldn't matter now. They have involved him," Ambrose said, as he thought through what she had told him. This young woman had to have balls of steel, so to speak, and he had no doubt that she could, and would, carry on alone if she could, but Noah had gotten himself embroiled in the deal now, and he had to play it out with her. "Besides, Olivia hasn't been exonerated yet, so she can't promise to give them something that is not hers to give."

"If the AFP make this bust, she will be exonerated. The people and places that populate her story will be discovered. She can prove that she was nothing more than a toy to that man," she said, angrily.

"What does Noah think you should do?" Armando asked softly, reaching out to place his hand over hers on the table.

"He thinks we should call you and ask for help," she sighed, and even though he tried to hold it in, Armando let out a chuckle of delight. "He's swimming laps, probably trying to work out the best way of getting me to do things the way he wants, even though he has promised to follow my lead until this is done," she grumbled.

"And the first thing you do this afternoon is take his advice and do what he wants?" Armando couldn't help the small smile that turned the corners of his mouth up.

"Not exactly. I called you so that you could come and take him home, away from the danger," she said petulantly, knowing how this looked now and how it would look to Noah. "Fuck!" Marcella swore again.

*****

Noah paced the room. It had been well over the hour that she had asked for, and he checked his tracking app again, to make sure that she was exactly where she said she would be. He wanted to go and find her, but she had asked for the time alone to think. He had done his thinking in the lap pool, not that it had helped him very much. He still believed that they needed help from someone in his family, and his father would be the best person to confide in. Hating that he had become the needy one in their relationship, or whatever it was between them, he called her number and sat on the couch.

"Hey," Marcella said, sounding amused.

"Hey, you've been in that bar a while now. Maybe we should get some food?" he asked tentatively.

"Maybe but..." She paused for effect. "I met this man, and he's been buying me drinks for the last hour. Do you mind if he comes to dinner with us?" she asked.

"You're supposed to be engaged, Marcella! To me! You're not supposed to be at a bar flirting with another guy and letting him buy you drinks all afternoon!" His temper flashed.

"Don't get your panties in a twist. He's married with a brood of bratty kids like you," she said, and he could tell that she was rolling her eyes at him. "We've just been talking, and he held my hand a few times, on top of the table. Honestly, I doubt that anyone will question the disguise, especially as my fiancée will join us for dinner," she laughed lightly.

"Stay where you are. I am on my way," Noah growled into the phone and ended the call. What the hell was she thinking, drinking and flirting with another man while he paced their suite, worried about her and the dangerous situation that they found themselves in today? He was angry. He hadn't felt this much anger and frustration with her since she had left the hospital. If she truly thought that this was just a game, then she was about to find out that he was playing for a totally different prize, and he wouldn't put up with her bullshit anymore.

Marcella saw him arrive in the Lagoon area. He was mad. She could tell by the way he looked and stalked towards her like an avenging angel, flawless in his perfection, as his eyes zeroed in on hers and held her gaze as he moved closer. She held her breath as he came close and stood beside her. It was as if everything else ceased to exit around her for that moment, then his hands clamped over her wrists, and he pulled her up and into his body, using his hands on her back to press her flush against him, as he took her mouth in a brutal kiss that both shocked and aroused her.

Noah ran his hands down her body and cupped her ass, uncaring of who was watching, or the man sitting with her and buying her drinks. As if the thought of her companion poured ice water on his need, he broke the kiss and moved to take her chair, pulling her into his lap, making sure that whoever it was knew that she had been claimed by a man who would not ever want an open relationship. Wrapping his arms around her so that she couldn't move from where he had placed her, he finally looked up at the man sitting, watching the show.

"Dad?" Noah blinked, then he turned to Marcella, his arms loosening. "You called my Dad?"

"Neanderthal," Marcella accused and struggled free of his now-lax arms to move to another chair. Shocked, Noah could only blink between the two of them in silence.

"So, you're getting along well, I see?" Armando chuckled.

"It's the disguise. I explained that." Marcella lifted her left hand and wriggled her fingers, making the ring flash at him.

"That's a pretty believable disguise," Armando smirked, as his son continued to stare between them.

"Yeah, well, he takes it a bit far sometimes," Marcella grumbled. "I told Armando everything, so if you two want to discuss the situation, I will go change for dinner. Do you want me to make a reservation at one of the restaurants here?"

"I think this conversation is best kept private," Noah grumbled back at her. "We can order room service, or go somewhere else. Somewhere more intimate."

"Whatever," she said flippantly, as she stood. "I'm going to shower and change anyway, while you boys talk." She winked at Armando, hoping that, despite his protests, he could talk some sense into Noah about their agreement. No matter how you looked at it, blackmail or coercion voided any agreement, even in Table Family law.

"Actually, I'm keen to do some checking before I give advice based on what Marcella has told me. Give me say two hours and meet me at Wharf One," Armando said, with mirth filling his eyes.

"Good idea," Noah nodded and let his eyes rove to Marcella, who stood uncertainly now.

"Fine, but at least give him your version of events before he leaves," she sighed. "Thanks, Armando, for listening. I'll see you later on." With that, she turned and went back to the room.

Armando watched Marcella leave through the door that Noah had emerged from, and then turned back to study his son. As the silence lengthened, he raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"It's complicated." Noah finally broke the silence with a sigh.

"Blackmail, signed agreements, coercion? Complicated seems about right. Care to explain it to me?" he said in a disapproving voice. "Be aware, I believe her account of everything so far."

"Fine, it's true." Noah slumped in his seat and began to explain everything that had happened, since his arrival here, to force her into letting him help and protect her.

"You don't think that girl has been forced into enough corners in her life, so far?" Armando asked.

"You don't know her like I do. She gave me no choice but to do it this way." Noah defended his decisions.

"You know why she called me?" Armando asked.

"I suggested that you could help us with coordinating the raid and getting Olivia's agreement to hand over the house," Noah shrugged.

"No." Armando shook his head. "She brought me here so that I would order you to break the agreement and return home. She doesn't want you in danger with her. She asked me here to keep you safe, not to help, or save herself."

"She what?" Noah looked up, confused. "Why would she do that?"

"Why indeed? How about you think about that before you return to your room," Armando counselled, before standing and leaving his son at the table.

"Dad, wait." Noah stood to pursue him, finding him only a step away. "She fucking cares," he said quietly. "She cares that I'm now in danger too, because of the risks she takes," he said incredulously.

"She does. But she also cares about Vivienne, and blasted your mother in that initial meeting to take the heat from her friend onto her own shoulders, so that Vivienne could leave the lunch with grace and dignity. She cares about her sister, whom she has been protecting her whole life, from what I understand. Of course, she cares that you're now in danger too, but... she cares because that is her nature. What she doesn't like, and what will always stop her from truly caring about you the way you care about her, is that you have proven to be yet another man from one of the twelve Families that backed her into a corner, and made her agree to something she never would have, otherwise." Armando lectured.

"It's done. I can't take it back." Noah frowned, realising that his plan, which he had believed would give them the time and proximity they needed to begin a relationship, may be the thing that drove her away even further. "She still cares though, right? It's not a total fuck up?"

"Only she can answer that. I'm telling you that she sees you as her blackmailer more than her friend right now," Armando said sadly, wishing that he didn't have to say anything at all, but for Noah to make things right, he had to know that forcing this woman to do anything was not the way to win her heart.

"I can change that. I'm trying to get Marcella to trust me. She wouldn't have talked to me at all without the agreement," Noah almost pleaded for his father's understanding. "I had to do it this way."

"It's not me that you have to convince, Noah. I will always see the very best in you and your intentions. I do understand why you have chosen to force her hand. She doesn't, though, and until you are both honest with each other, things between you will never progress to a better place." Armando clapped his hand on his son's shoulder. "We Zenati have always had to fight for the women we love, some more than others." He just hoped that his son didn't lose the battle because the woman he was destined to love might just be one of the very few to walk away.

*****