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I blinked my eyes open and stretched, my muscles aching with the effort. My whole body hurt, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I felt sluggish and slow, like I was still half asleep. I closed my eyes again as I yawned, and fatigue pulled at me, along with another sensation I couldn’t identify.
What the hell had happened?
Memories came to me, like clips on an old-fashioned movie reel flickering frantically. Waking up in the car. The pain shooting through ever cell of my body. Getting violently ill and throwing up in the back seat. Someone forcing me to drink, then... blessed darkness.
My brows drew together. There was something before that, though... Eric had convinced me to go to breakfast this morning; we’d eaten at Rosie’s, then—
Oh, God. The accident.
My eyes flew open as I bolted upright—or tried to. My muscles refused to cooperate, and I flopped like a fish as pain spiderwebbed across my brain. I grasped my head, willing it to recede. The impact had slammed into Eric’s truck, sending us spinning. My head had hit the passenger side window, and everything after that seemed fuzzy.
There was a voice in the car. It had been familiar, yet I knew with certainty that it wasn’t Eric’s. The man had given me water, then... The thought of that sharp prick to my arm came back. I’d been drugged.
It was almost too unbelievable to contemplate. Who the hell would do that? And why?
I took quick stock of my body. Most of the pain seemed to be centralized in the back of my head. Did I have a concussion? I thought protocol dictated you keep someone awake if they had brain trauma, not put them to sleep. Unease spread through me.
Darkness shrouded the room, and it took me several moments to register when I was seeing. The ceiling, the walls, everything was familiar but... not. Was I dreaming?
I swallowed hard and tried to sit up, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. Sinking back down into the mountain of pillows, I closed my eyes again. When I next opened them, a body occupied the chair next to my bed. Startled, I drew back until the man’s face came into focus.
“Matteo!”
His face pulled into an expression of worry, he stretched one hand across the white sheets and enveloped my fingers in his. “How are you feeling?”
I lifted my free hand to my head, feeling the pulsing of my veins behind my eyes. “My head hurts. What happened?” My gaze flew around the room, and my heartbeat accelerated as it made the connection. The walls were now bare, devoid of any decoration, but it was the same room I’d been confined to for years.
No, no, no.
I gripped Matteo’s hand, my fingers digging into his skin. “I can’t be here. Please, I have to leave. If I don’t, Uncle will—”
Matteo adjusted our hands and smiled soothingly at me. “The deal is off. You don’t worry about Nikolai now.”
I flopped back against the pillows. That was a small consolation. Matteo had to know that. My uncle had brought me back here for a reason. If not to sell me to Nikolai, then to someone else. I had to get out of here. “Matteo, please,” I pleaded with him. “They’ll kill me.”
“No, principessa.” Matteo shook his head. “Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. Trust me.”
I didn’t believe him, but I didn’t want to hurt Matteo’s feelings by disrespecting him. In our family, it was the man’s job to protect their women; if Matteo thought he was in control, I wasn’t going to argue. Yet.
Damn it. I’d tried so hard to hide in plain sight. I paid for everything in cash and refused to put my name on anything. “How did you even find me?”
He closed his eyes briefly before meeting my gaze. “We—”
“Good. You’re awake.” I jumped as the door to my room slammed open and my uncle bustled through. “Right here.”
Yanking the covers up to my neck, I cowered against the headboard as a second man entered the room. Older with graying hair, he offered me a kindly smile. “Good morning, Miss.”
I eyed him warily. Who the hell was this? “Hello.”
Uncle Massimo jerked his chin toward him. “Get on with it.”
My brows drew together as the man slowly made his way toward me. “What are you doing?”
“My name is Dr. Hinckle,” he said as he set a small bag on the pristine white quilt covering the bed. He unzipped it and pulled out several instruments. “I’m here to examine you.”
I relaxed a fraction as he leaned close and took my head in his weathered hands, gently tilting it from side to side. “You were in an accident, yes?”
I nodded as he released me. “Yes. I—” My gaze shot to Uncle Massimo, and the words froze on the tip of my tongue.
The doctor made a little sound. “A few abrasions, but I’ll get those cleaned up. What I’m going to do now is check you for a concussion.”
He did so, checking my eyes and hearing, then moving lower to inspect my arms and torso for any injury.
“Mild concussion,” Dr. Hinckle directed toward my uncle. “But some rest over the next few days will fix that.”
Curling my fingers into the sheets, I nodded. I didn’t have a couple days—I didn’t have a couple hours. I needed to get the hell out of here and get back to Eric.
“Well?” Uncle Massimo snapped, dragging my attention back to him. “What are you waiting for?”
The doctor turned back to me, and his lips turned up in an apologetic smile. “I’ll need you to lower the sheet, please, Miss.”
“Why?”
Uncle Massimo glared at me. “Do as he asks.”
I clenched my thighs tightly together, a sick sense of dread curdling in my stomach. I asked the question, though I already knew. “W-why?”
My uncle reached down and snatched the corner of the fabric, ripping it away. I let out a soft cry as I tried to cover myself. “Hey—!”
“Lie down.”
I trembled as I stared up at him. “N-no.”
My uncle’s searing dark gaze bore into mine. “Do not test me, Giuliana.”
I shook my head, a terrible sick feeling coming over me. “I won’t do it.”
I screamed as he grabbed one ankle and tugged. Matteo jumped from his seat, swearing at Massimo.
“No!” I begged, my eyes clouded with tears. “Please don’t!”
Shame and humiliation coursed through me, and I could feel the men’s gazes, hot and intent on my bare legs. I refused to expose myself to them. I couldn’t do it.
My uncle whipped a knife from a sheath in his waistband and pressed it against my stomach. “Spread your legs like the whore you are, or I’ll spill your blood all over this bed.”
The tip of the blade dug into the cavity of my stomach, and a dark bead of red appeared as I twitched under its sharp point.
Sobs wracked my body, and I covered my face as I allowed my knees to fall open. I tried to shut it out of my mind as someone—the doctor, I hoped—pulled my panties down my legs. Fresh tears leaked from my eyes as he inserted an instrument inside me. It was cold, and every touch felt like an invasion of my body.
Over the pounding in my ears, I barely heard the low hum of voices, then a door slammed. My panties were pulled back up into place, and the door opened then closed again, much softer this time.
Alone and completely ashamed, I curled up on my side under the covers and cried. Great, heaving sobs shook my body as I vented my frustration. My rage. My humiliation.
I stiffened as a warm body lay next to me, and Matteo pulled me into his arms, covers and all. “I’m sorry, principessa. I’m so sorry.”
Several long minutes later, exhausted from my outburst, I turned into his arms and bowed my head. “I hate him,” I whispered.
Matteo’s chest rose and fell beneath my cheek. “Me, too.”
“Does he still plan to give me to Nikolai?”
I felt Matteo’s chin brush over my hair as he shook his head. “No. The Russians retaliated after you...” He paused, then seemed to change direction. “It’s worse than before. We’ve been embroiled in a war for the past several months, and Nikolai has aligned himself with the Irish. Their numbers are small, but they’re dangerously unpredictable.”
I didn’t know if I should feel relieved or not. So why the hell did Uncle Massimo bring me back here if he didn’t plan to get rid of me? Was this just a power play to wield his control over me?
Matteo drew a deep breath. “Have you ever heard of Fox?”
I stiffened, horror washing over me. Oh, God. Even I’d heard of the man who went only by Fox because of his cunning and ruthless nature. Nikolai seemed like an infant next to Fox. Though he was an independent, he’d made a name for himself over the past several years. If Uncle wanted to screw the Russians, Fox was the ally to use. Matteo had told me that he tolerated nothing, and I’d heard that he once sawed off a man’s head with a box cutter just to prove a point.
A shiver racked my body, and my stomach rolled. “Matteo...”
“I would never let anything happen to you.”
“You can’t save me,” I lamented. If Uncle was negotiating with Fox... “It’s already done.”
Matteo’s jaw clenched. “Won’t stop me from trying.”
“What is he like?” What I really wanted to know was if I would have any chance of eluding him.
“Dangerous,” came Matteo’s response, low and gruff. “Do you remember when Elle Masterson disappeared?”
Daughter of the mayor of Chicago and wife to a senator, her disappearance had been big news nearly a year ago. Right before I’d left home, they’d found her body—what was left of it, anyway—buried in a shallow grave outside of town. “Was Fox... Did he...?”
Matteo nodded, but didn’t say anything else, and my body went cold. Those were two of the most powerful men in the state. How in the hell had Fox gotten away with it? That alone was a testament to his power. “I can’t stay here.”
“Trust me, Giuliana.” One heavy hand cupped the back of my head and held me close. “I’ll take care of you.”
I nodded, but I didn’t mean it. The only person I could trust was myself. One last tear squeezed from my eye, and I hastily brushed it away. Tears were for the weak; I was stronger than that. I wouldn’t let them break me. I wouldn’t bow to anyone. And I was going to get the hell out of here if it was the last thing I did.