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A hard knock came from my bedroom door, and I turned as it swung open.
“Your uncle would like to see you.”
I scanned Johnny’s face before glancing at the man next to him. I’d never seen him before. My gaze jumped back to Johnny, and I jerked my chin at the new guy. “Where’s Tommy?”
For as long as I’d been with my uncle, Johnny and Tommy had been assigned to watch over me. I wasn’t sure how long they’d been with Uncle Massimo, exactly, but I figured it wasn’t terribly long. Glorified babysitting was a position low on the totem pole with little responsibility.
“Gone,” he responded.
His response was abrupt. Gone? I knew what that meant, but... “How?”
“Nikolai,” he spat.
I knew things with the Russians had not gone well since I’d run away, but it was almost a blow to the heart to know we lost someone I knew so well. He wasn’t a good man, but he was part of the family and I couldn’t help but mourn his loss. I focused on Johnny again as he turned slightly, and my eyes narrowed as I studied him.
In the light, a fresh scar cut across his cheek, and my heart jumped into my throat. It was a knife wound—I knew it from the shape. I swallowed hard at the sight of the thin, raised red line that ran from his temple to his jaw, unable to tear my eyes away. He’d been punished for my leaving, and guilt sat heavily in my stomach. He’d been marked for everyone to see, and it was my fault. I thanked God my uncle had shown him some mercy at least, because Massimo could easily have cleaved off a hand or killed him.
Johnny must have seen the remorse in my eyes, because he gave his head a little shake. I pressed my lips together to stem my apology, though tears burned the backs of my eyes as I averted my gaze.
Knowing that it wouldn’t do me any good to fight with them, I stood and they flanked me as we fell into step on the way to my uncle’s office. Johnny knocked on the door, and Uncle Massimo’s response came a moment later, swift and abrupt.
“Enter.”
Johnny turned the knob and opened the door, allowing me to enter, then immediately closed it again. I regarded my uncle, who had yet to acknowledge me. The sight of him sent loathing, hot and furious, streaming through my blood. I hated him for what he’d done. I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I’d escaped once; I would do it again. He would surely be expecting me to try something, so I had to be on guard and choose precisely the right moment. I knew that, even though la famiglia had lost several men, surveillance around the house had been tightened. No one would get in or out without his knowledge, and I knew he wouldn’t be stupid enough to let me go outside without a valid excuse. I needed to come up with a plan and quick. I knew that Eric would be looking for me, but he didn’t even know my real name. How would he ever find me?
“Sit.” My uncle nodded to the chair on the opposite side of the desk.
Swallowing down the retort on my tongue, I placidly approached and sank down onto the edge of the leather chair. Like the good little doll I was supposed to be, I folded my hands in my lap, the picture of propriety. My uncle’s gaze dropped to my hands, and he lifted one brow. I knew exactly what he was thinking. During my three years of captivity with him, anxiety had caused me to pick and bite at my nails, sometimes until they were ragged and bloody. Now they were long and smooth and healthy, a result of my time spent with Eric, where I’d felt safe and comfortable.
His frigid gaze swept over my body before meeting mine. “You gained weight.”
His voice was rife with derision and disapproval, and I notched my chin up. It was true—I’d gained almost ten pounds since living in Pine Ridge. While my weight hadn’t been healthy before, my body now felt softer and more rounded, with curves instead of angles. Uncle had practically starved me in order to achieve what he deemed perfection; in his eyes, along with my virtue, it would have made me the perfect bride. Too bad I’d ruined his plans on that score. I fought to keep the smirk from forming on my lips but lost the battle.
His lip curled in disgust when I refused to rise to his bait. “Disgusting. See if you can find something that will fit.”
“For what purpose?”
He took in my challenging tone and blinked once, hard. “We are going to dinner.”
I had no desire to eat, too stressed out to even contemplate it. “No, thank you.”
Sparks of fire shot through his eyes. “It wasn’t a request.”
“I don’t care if it was a request or not. I’m not going.”
Uncle slowly uncoiled from his chair, his dark eyes never leaving mine. “You should care very much what happens next. No one will save you now.”
God, I loathed him so much. Anger made me bold, and I glared at him. “He’ll find me.”
A cold smile lifted my uncle’s lips. “I wouldn’t count on that.”
Ice sluiced through my veins as fear seized my heart. “Why?”
Uncle waved a hand dismissively. “You don’t have to worry about your cop anymore.”
“What did you do?” I whispered.
He stared at me, those cold, dark eyes unblinking. “You know how much I despise loose ends.”
“No.” My fingers curled into the arm of the chair, and I shook my head, unwilling to fathom never seen Eric again. It couldn’t be true; it just couldn’t. “You didn’t.”
My uncle ignored my words and glanced at his watch before sinking back down into his chair. “You have one hour to be ready.”
I shot from my chair and leaned over the desk, my palms splayed over the cool wood. “Tell me!” I screamed. “I want the truth! Tell me, damn it!”
My uncle’s hand shot out and wrapped around my throat, cutting off my hysterical screams. “You want the truth?” His fingers tightened as he glared at me. Papers scattered, and something fell to the floor with a crash as he dragged me across the desk. “He’s right where he belongs. Just like your father.”
I clawed at him, kicking, biting, trying to tear the skin from his body for what he’d done. He threw me to the side, and I hit the floor hard, the impact making my teeth clack together and sending a shooting pain through my skull. One hand fisted in my hair, and I fought to get my feet under me for leverage as he pulled me across the room. I screamed at the sting of pain exploding across my scalp, but I continued to fight as hard as I could. The closet came into view, and I let out an ear-shattering shriek as he shoved me toward it.
No. I wouldn’t spend one more second in that awful place. I braced myself against the doorjamb, and I felt the bones in my arms flex as he put more pressure on them. Another howl of pain ripped from my throat, and I pulled them in just in time to keep them from breaking. I landed hard on the floor of the closet, my arm twisted beneath me at an awkward angle, and he slammed the door behind me.
Pushing down the agony shooting through my body, I clambered to my feet and pounded on the door. “I hate you! You won’t get away with this!”
A cold laugh filled the air, muted by the thick wood separating us. “I already have.”
I backed up and step and kicked at the door. It rattled but didn’t splinter, and I grunted with frustration. Backing up as far as I could, I took two running steps and threw my entire weight against the door. It didn’t move.
I grasped the handle and shook, but the solid wood held steady. Tears of rage filled my eyes, and I screamed, long and loud.
A sharp retort filled the air, immediately followed by the sound of a bullet striking wood. What the hell? Rendered motionless with shock, I lifted my chin and stared in horror at the small pinhole of light coming through the door. Holy shit. Someone was shooting at the door!
Another shot followed the first, a second circle of light appearing a few inches above my head, and I sucked in a breath, unable to scream. I threw myself to the floor and curled up in a ball, trying to make myself as small as possible. Clenching my eyes closed, I covered my head and prayed for it to stop. Fear snaked through me, stealing my composure, and I felt my bladder release. My pulse thrummed in my ears and my lungs heaved with shallow breaths, threatening to make me hyperventilate. Fifteen rounds later, silence reigned. My ears still rang from the sound of the staccato blasts, but I forced myself to open my eyes. The vibration of heavy footsteps striking the hardwood floor rolled through my body as they neared the closet.
My uncle wrenched open the door and stared at me, his expression a picture of disgust as he took in my position on the floor. Still unable to get a full breath, I couldn’t cry out, couldn’t scream as he curled his fingers into the material of my shirt and dragged me out. I saw another figure in the room, and hope filled me as I recognized my cousin. My arms flailed out in an attempt to catch myself as Uncle Massimo deposited me at Matteo’s feet.
“You beg for her life?” My uncle sneered at me, though his words were directed at Matteo. “This worthless, vile excuse for a human being?”
Silently, Matteo extended one hand and helped me to stand. He opened his mouth to speak, then slammed it closed again, and I could practically feel the disappointment rolling off of him. Tears stained my cheeks and the scent of urine clung to me as he led me down the hall and back to my room.
He paused in the doorway but released me and gestured with his chin for me to go inside. “Shower and get dressed.”
“Matteo—”
The rest of my words were cut off by a hard shake of his head. “Go.”
Tears burned my eyes as I started to close the door, but his hand shot out and stopped its progress. My startled gaze jumped to his, then over his shoulder to Johnny as he took up guard by my room. His dark eyes watched me intently as Matteo stepped back into the hallway.
“It stays open. Bring her down when she’s done.”
Johnny tipped his head without looking away from me. “Yes, sir.”
My chin trembled, but I refused to cry. I spun on a heel and made my way toward the bathroom. Johnny hovered just inside the doorway to the bedroom, and I wondered if I’d have time to slam and lock the bathroom door before he made it across the room.
My gaze slid to his and, as if reading my mind, he gave a slow shake of his head. “It will only make it worse.”
Anger coursed through me. I hated that he was right. Storming into the bathroom, I turned on the shower and stripped off my clothes, then stepped under the hot spray. Though I couldn’t close the door, at least I was concealed from his view in here. I soaped off, shame filling me once more as I cleaned the stickiness off my legs.
The scene in the office replayed through my mind in vivid color, and it sent a shudder down my spine. What if he’d accidentally shot me? Would he have cared? Probably not, though I knew his intention wasn’t to end my life. He’d wanted to scare me—and he’d succeeded. The bullets had all been over my head, carefully placed, and I’d reacted exactly the way he’d wanted. He derived great pleasure from my fear, and I hated myself for showing my weakness.
Uncle Massimo’s words came back to me. “You don’t have to worry about your cop anymore. You know how much I despise loose ends.”
Was Eric really gone? Despair assailed me. My heart wanted to believe that Eric was still alive, but I knew better. Uncle had no reason to lie. My back hit the cold tile, and I slid down until I was seated. The water beat down on my back as I pulled my knee to my chest and curled into a tiny ball. Then the tears came.
I cried for myself. For Eric. For the future that had been so ruthlessly ripped away. I couldn’t imagine life without him. It was like my heart had been torn to shreds, and all that remained was a gaping, aching hole.
I don’t know how long I sat there, but the feel of cold water pouring over me finally jerked me back to reality. I felt numb, dead inside. Slowly, I pushed to my feet, the motion seeming to take the last reserve of energy I had. My motions were slow and labored as I toweled off.
Anger and sadness swirled inside, battling for dominance. Anger won out. The pain of loss was still there, a sharp, aching reminder of everything I’d lost. It served to fan the flames of my fury. I would find a way to avenge Eric’s death if it was the last thing I did.
Not bothering with the towel, I dropped it to the floor and turned to leave. The motion in the mirror caught my attention, and I paused. I leaned against the vanity and stared at my reflection. My face was pale, dotted with blotchy patches, and dark circles had bloomed beneath my eyes, reddened from my tears. Dark hair. Green eyes. I was my father’s daughter, through and through. I lifted my chin and steeled my spine. Ignacio Capaldi wouldn’t have gone down without a fight, and neither would I.
I hated Uncle Massimo. He’d stripped me of my innocence, taken away my confidence and the one person I’d loved more than anything. Never again would I allow him control over me. As much as I despised the idea, perhaps marrying was for the best.
I wasn’t stupid; Uncle would never relax his guard around me. My new husband, though... he would never see it coming. I would play the perfect, obedient wife. I would win him over, make him trust me. Then I would find a way to bring them both down.
Deciding to leave my face bare and my hair to dry on its own, I left the bathroom. I refused to doll myself up for whatever my uncle had planned. While I was in the shower, someone had set a tiny black dress on the bed. Keeping my back to Johnny, I covered my breasts with one arm as I scooped up the dress and stepped into it, then tugged it into place. I struggled to pull the zipper along the side but finally managed to get it closed. With the weight I’d gained, the dress now hugged every curve, acting almost like a corset and making it hard to draw in a full breath. A tiny pair of panties had been set out, but no bra, and I quickly shimmied into them. A pair of ridiculously high stilettos that I’d once adored sat in their box on the bed; now I eyed them with loathing as I slipped them onto my feet.
I could feel Johnny’s attention focused acutely on me, I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Enjoy the show?”
He blinked once, completely unaffected by my bitter tone. His voice was soft, almost inaudible when he spoke. “Dissociate.”
I jerked back at the single word and swallowed hard. It was he who, after witnessing my uncle’s cruel punishments, told me to retreat to a fantasy within my mind to escape my dismal reality. I swallowed hard and straightened my spine.
He studied me, his expression unreadable. “Stay strong.”
Easier said than done, but I was sure he knew that. I choked back the tears, pushing down the pain. My gaze fell once more to the scar on his cheek as I neared him, and I met his eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He stared for a moment, then tipped his chin infinitesimally, apparently accepting my apology. He fell into step beside me as I made my way downstairs, to whatever fresh hell awaited me tonight.