Fabiano dragged me down a flight of stairs into a basement.
“Fabi,” I said imploringly, tugging at his hold.
“Fabiano,” he growled, not even looking at me as he pulled me through another narrow bare corridor. He seemed furious.
Before I could utter another word, he opened a heavy door and stepped inside a room with me. My eyes darted around. A cell.
My stomach lurched when I saw the toilet and shower in one corner, but even worse when I took in the stained mattress on the floor across from them. Red and yellow stains. Terror gripped me hard, and suddenly I realized what was supposed to happen here.
My eyes flew up to a camera in the corner to my right then back to Fabiano. He was Enforcer of the Camorra, and while my parents had tried to shelter me, Samuel had been more forthcoming with information. I knew what Enforcers did, especially in Las Vegas.
Fabiano scanned my face and released me with a sigh. I stumbled back and almost lost my balance when my feet caught in my dress. “Will you …?” I pressed out.
Fabiano shook his head. “Remo will handle you himself.”
I froze. “Fabiano,” I tried again. “You can’t allow that to happen. Don’t let him hurt me. Please.” The word tasted bitter in my mouth. Begging wasn’t something I had been taught, but this wasn’t a situation I had ever prepared for.
“Remo won’t …” Fabiano trailed off and grimaced.
Pushing past my fear, I moved closer to Fabiano and gripped his arms. “If you are unwilling to help me, then at least tell me what I can do to stop Remo from hurting me. What does he want from me?”
Fabiano stepped back, so I had to release him. “Remo hates weakness. And in his eyes women are weak.”
“So I’m at the mercy of a man who hates women.”
“He hates weakness. But you are strong, Serafina.” He turned and left, closing the heavy door and locking me in.
I whirled around, my eyes scanning the surroundings for something I could use against Remo, but there was nothing, and he wasn’t a man who could be beaten in a fight. Strong? Was I strong? It didn’t feel that way right now. Fear pounded in my chest, in every fiber of my body.
My eyes darted to the mattress once more. Yesterday Danilo was supposed to claim me on satin sheets in the holy bond of matrimony. Today Remo would break me on a dirty mattress like a common whore.
I braced myself against the rough stone wall, fighting my rising panic. All my life I had been raised to be proud and noble, honorable and well-behaved, and it didn’t protect me.
The creak of the door made me tense, but I didn’t turn to see who had entered. I knew who it was, could feel his cruel eyes on me.
I peered up at the camera once more. Everything that happened would be recorded and sent to my uncle, fiancé, and father. And worse … Samuel. I swallowed. They would see me at my worst. I wouldn’t let it come to that. I’d hold my head high no matter what happened.
“Are you ignoring me?” Remo asked from close behind me, and a small shiver shot down my spine.
“Does that ever work?” I said, wishing my voice came out stronger, but it was already a fight forcing those four words out of my tight throat.
“No,” Remo said. “I’m difficult to ignore.”
Impossible to ignore.
“Turn around,” Remo ordered.
I didn’t move, focusing on the gray stone in front of me. It wasn’t only an act of defiance. My legs refused to move. Fear kept me frozen, but Remo didn’t need to know that.
His hot breath ghosted over my neck, and I closed my eyes, wedging my lower lip between my teeth to stifle a sound. “Open disobedience?” he asked in a low voice. His palms pressed down on my shoulder blades, and I almost crumpled under their weight, even though he didn’t put much pressure behind the touch.
“On second thought,” he said gently. “This position works well too.”
The soft clink of a blade being unsheathed made me jump. Remo braced himself to both sides of me, a long dagger in one hand. His chest pressed up against my back. “I’ll give you a choice, Serafina. You can either get out of your dress by yourself or I’ll cut you out of it. What is it?”
I swallowed. I had expected another choice, one Vegas was famous for. A rush of relief filled me, but it was short-lived. I shifted my hand and covered the blade with my palm then curled my fingers around the cold steel.
“If you give me your knife, I’ll cut myself out of my dress,” I bit out.
Remo chuckled. A dark, joyless sound. “You want my knife?”
I nodded, and to my utter shock, Remo released the handle, and I held his dagger by the blade, the sharp edge cutting into my flesh. Remo stepped back, his warmth leaving my body. I stared at the deadly weapon in my hand. Slowly, drawing in a deep breath, I straightened and reached for the handle. I knew Remo hadn’t given me a fair chance. He was playing with me, trying to break my spirit by showing me that even a knife didn’t change the fact that I was at his mercy.
What he didn’t know was that Samuel and I had spent all our lives fighting with each other, like siblings always do, but when he’d become a Made Man, he started working with me on my fighting skills because he knew how our world treated women. He had tried to make me strong, and I was. I knew how to handle a knife, how to defeat an opponent. But I had never won against Samuel, and he was always careful not to hurt me. Remo was stronger than Samuel, and he would hurt me, would enjoy it. I could not beat Remo in a fight, not even when I had a knife and he didn’t.
Fabiano’s words flashed through my mind. Remo hates weakness. Even if I couldn’t beat Remo, I could show him I wasn’t weak.
“Maybe I should take my knife back since you don’t know what to do with it,” Remo said, almost disappointed. He stepped closer.
In a fluid motion, I turned around and jabbed at Remo while my other hand pulled up my dress. Remo blocked my attack by hitting my wrist. My years of training with Samuel prevented me from dropping the knife despite the sharp pain in my wrist.
A smile crossed Remo’s face, and I released my dress and rammed my fist into his abdomen while I slashed the knife at him once more. The blade grazed his arm and blood trickled down, but Remo didn’t even wince. His smile got wider as he took a step back, completely unfazed.
I lunged at him but got caught in my long skirt. I barreled into Remo and tried to land another deadlier cut. We fell and Remo landed on his back with me on top of him. I straddled him and stabbed at his stomach, but he gripped my wrist with a twisted grin on his face. I tried to force the knife down, but Remo didn’t budge. And then, suddenly, he showed me what it was like when he actually tried fighting back.
He bucked his hips, and before I could react, I landed on my back and Remo was on top of me. I struggled but he shoved my skirt up and knelt between my legs, moving closer until his pelvis thrust against me and I couldn’t use my legs to push him away. His fingers curled around my wrists and he pressed them into the mattress above my head, the knife still in my grasp and utterly useless. He had me pinned under his strong body, completely at his mercy, both of my hands fastened to the ground.
His dark eyes held excitement and a flicker of admiration. For a moment, I felt proud, but then my situation dawned on me. I was on my back, on a dirty mattress, under Remo. He had me where he wanted me from the start.
Fear overpowered my determination, and my body stiffened, my eyes darting to the disgusting mattress under me. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep my panic at bay. Remo regarded me intently. “Let go of the knife,” he murmured, and I did. I didn’t even hesitate.
Be strong.
I swallowed hard, reminding myself of the camera. I’d take my pride to the grave with me. “Just get it over with, Remo,” I said in disgust. “Rape me. I’m done playing your sick game. I’m not a chess piece.”
Remo’s dark eyes wandered over my face, my hair, my arms stretched out above my head. He leaned down, his cruel face coming closer. He stopped when our noses were almost brushing. His eyes weren’t black; they were the darkest brown I’d ever seen. He held my gaze, and I held his. I wouldn’t look away, no matter what he did. I wanted him to see me as I was. Not a weakness, not a pawn, but a human being.
“Not like this, Serafina,” he said. His voice was low and dark, mesmerizing, but it was his gaze that held me captive. “Not like a whore on a stained mattress.” He smiled, and it was worse than any glare or threat.
He brought his mouth down until his lips touched mine lightly, just barely, and yet a current shot through me. “I haven’t started playing, and you aren’t a mere chess piece. You are the queen.” He took the knife and straightened, releasing me in the process. He stood slowly, drawing up to his full height and staring down at me.
“And what are you in this game of chess?” I whispered harshly, still lying on the mattress.
“I’m the king.”
“You aren’t unbeatable.”
His eyes trailed over me until they returned to my face. “We’ll see.” He sheathed his knife. “Now get out of that dress. You won’t need it anymore.”
I sat up. “I won’t undress in front of you.”
Remo chuckled. “Oh this will be fun.” He waited, and I returned his gaze steadily. “The knife it is, then,” he said with a shrug.
“No,” I said firmly, struggling to my feet. I glared at him and reached behind myself, pulling down the zipper with an audible hiss. Never taking my eyes off him, I pulled at the fabric until it finally fell to the ground, a fluffy halo around my feet.
“White and golden like an angel,” Remo mused darkly as he took in every inch of me.
Even force of will couldn’t stop my cheeks from blazing with heat, being exposed like this in front of a man for the first time. Left in nothing but my white garter, white lace panties and a corset, goose bumps rippled across my skin at Remo’s scrutiny.
He bridged the distance between us, and I held my breath. He stopped close to me, dark eyes tracing my face, and he raised his hand, causing me to stiffen. The corner of his mouth twitched. Then his thumb brushed over my cheekbone. I drew back, away from the touch, which made him smile again.
“Virgin bashfulness, how endearing,” Remo said darkly, mocking me. “Don’t worry, Angel, I won’t tell anyone that I’m the first man who saw you like this.”
I glared at him, fighting tears of embarrassment and fury as he bent down, reaching for the dress. “Step back.” I quickly stepped out of the dress, and Remo straightened with the stained fabric wedged under his arm.
He regarded me. “You are a sight to behold. I bet Danilo would have had a boner from merely looking at you. I can only imagine what he feels now, knowing you are in my hands, knowing that he will never get what was promised.”
I shook my head. “Whatever you take, it’ll always be less than what he would have gotten, because I would have given myself to him willingly, body and soul, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You will have to settle for the consolation prize, Remo Falcone.”
Remo moved back slowly, a strange expression on his face. “You should take a shower, Serafina. I will have one of the whores bring you fresh clothes.” He turned and disappeared with a soft click of the door.
The air left my lungs in a whoosh. I wrapped my arms around myself, trembling, trying to keep it together. It had taken considerable effort standing up to Remo, and now everything fell off me in waves of emotion. I stiffened when I remembered the camera, but then I decided it didn’t matter. Remo knew I was terrified of him. My brave front wasn’t fooling him.
REMO
Serafina was everything I’d hoped for and so much more. A queen in my game of chess, indeed. Noble and proud like a queen and arrogant and spoiled like one too. She made me want to break her. Break those white wings. An angel in appearance but one with clipped wings, happy to be grounded, happy to never roam the sky. Content to become the beautiful tamed bird in Danilo’s gilded cage.
I emptied my scotch and hit the bar. Jerry refilled my glass. The whores had gathered at the other end of the bar as far away from me as possible. As usual.
“She’s so beautiful,” the whore who had brought Serafina clothes said to the others.
She was. Serafina was a masterpiece, almost too beautiful. Her golden hair and unblemished skin against the dirty mattress had felt like sacrilege, even to me, and I had committed almost every sin conceivable.
I drank another scotch, considering returning to the basement, to Serafina. Whatever you take, it’ll always be less than what he would have gotten. You will have to settle for the consolation prize.
Her words were an insistent pounding in the back of my head. And fuck, I knew she was right. Taking from Serafina what I wanted wouldn’t feel like a victory. There was no challenge in doing so. She was weaker and at my mercy. I could have her in every way by the morning and be done with it, but it would feel like a fucking defeat. It wasn’t what I wanted. Far from it. I had never settled for a consolation prize. I didn’t want less than what she would have given to Danilo. I wanted more. I wanted everything from her.
I slammed the glass down on the counter and turned to the nearest whore. “In my office. Now.”
She nodded and rushed off. I followed her, already painfully hard. Fucking hard since I’d seen Serafina in her underwear. Fucking desperate to bury myself in her pussy and rip her innocence from her. I always got what I wanted. I didn’t wait for anything. But if I wanted the ultimate triumph, I would have to try my hand at patience, and it would be the biggest challenge of my life.
The whore perched on my desk but got up when I entered. I unzipped my pants and shoved down my briefs. She knew her cue. We’d fucked before. I often chose her. She got down on her knees as I tangled my hand in her red hair and started fucking her mouth. She took all of me as I thrust into her, hitting the back of her throat, making her gag, but for once it did nothing to sate the burning hunger in my veins. I scowled down at her face, trying to imagine it was Serafina, but the whore regarded me with that fucking submissiveness, that disgusting reverence. No pride, no honor. They all got a choice and chose the easy way, never the hard painful one. They would never understand that nothing could be gained without pain. Weak. Disgusting.
I tightened my hold on her hair, causing her to wince, as I came down her throat. Stepping back, my dripping cock slid out of her mouth. She peered up at me, licking her lips like I had given her a fucking gift. My fingers itched to reach for my knife and slash her throat, relieve her of her pitiful existence.
She lowered her gaze.
“Get up,” I snarled, losing my patience. She scrambled to her feet. “Desk.”
She turned around and bent over the desk, sticking her ass out, then reached behind herself and pushed her skirt up, revealing her naked ass. She parted her legs and braced herself against the desk. No pride. No honor.
I stepped up behind her, pumping my cock, but I was already getting hard again. I reached for a condom, ripped it open with my teeth, and rolled it down my dick. Spitting down in my hand, I lubed my sheathed dick then pressed up against her asshole and began pushing into her. The whore’s knuckles turned white from her grip on the desk. When I was buried up to my balls in her ass, I leaned forward until my chest was flush with her back, and for the first time she tensed. I never got this close to her. I brought my mouth close to her ear as my fingers clamped down on her hips.
“Tell me, Eden,” I whispered harshly. She held her breath hearing me say her name. I never had before. They thought I didn’t know their names, but I knew every fucker I owned, soldier and whore. “Have you ever considered telling me to go fuck myself?”
“Of course not, Ma …”
“What did you want to call me? Master?” I slammed into her once, making her gasp. “Tell me, Eden, am I your fucking master?”
She hesitated. She didn’t even know how to answer that fucking question, and it made me furious. “I’m not your fucking master,” I growled.
“Yes,” she agreed quickly.
I turned her face so she had to stare into my eyes. “Do you have a sliver of honor in that used up body of yours?” I asked gently.
She blinked.
My mouth pulled into a snarl. “No. Not one fucking ounce.” I gripped her neck and started thrusting into her. She winced and it made me raving mad. Still slamming into her, I muttered in her ear, “Do you ever wonder where Dinara is?”
She tensed under me, but I didn’t let up. “Have you thought of her at all?”
She let out a sob. She had no right to cry, no fucking right, because she wasn’t crying for her daughter but only for herself. A fucking disgrace of a mother. “Do you ever wonder if I do to your little girl what I do to you now?”
She didn’t say anything. I straightened and kept fucking her until I finally came. I stepped back, thrust the condom down on the ground, and cleaned myself with a towel that I kept handy before I pulled up my briefs and pants.
She turned, mascara smudged under her eyes, and I tossed the towel at her. “Clean yourself. And dispose of the fucking condom. It’s dripping my cum all over the floor.” She picked up the towel from the floor and wiped the floor first then cleaned herself. Dirty whore.
“Get out of my sight before I kill you,” I said.
She rushed past me, opened the door, and almost bumped into Savio, who stepped back with a disgusted expression. He cocked an eyebrow as he stepped in. “You’re still fucking that bitch? Why don’t you just kill her like she deserves?”
“She doesn’t deserve death. It would be too kind to kill her.” And I gave Grigory my word that the bitch would suffer.
Savio nodded. “Maybe. But I thought you’d be up virgin pussy, not this used up piece of trash.”
“I’m not in the mood for virgin pussy.”
Savio looked curious. “I imagine it’ll be really tight and kind of hot knowing you’re the first to be in there.”
“Never been with a fucking virgin, so I can’t fucking tell you. Is there a reason why you’re here disturbing my post-fuck-fury?
“What’s the difference between that and your pre-fuck-fury? Or your general mood for that matter?”
“You’re a fucking smart ass like Nino.”
Savio sauntered in and leaned his hip against the desk. “I thought I’d tell you Simeone went into the basement with a tray of food for your girl and didn’t come back up yet.”
I shoved past Savio, so fucking furious I had trouble not killing every single person in the fucking bar. I raced down the stairs when I heard Simeone’s cackling and spotted him in the doorway to Serafina’s cell, not inside of it. I slowed, knowing there was no rush. He wasn’t that stupid. Stupid enough, but not so stupid to try touching something that was mine.
“Get out, you disgusting pervert,” I heard Serafina’s voice.
“Shut up, whore. You aren’t in Chicago. Here you are nothing. I can’t wait to bury my cock in your cunt once Remo is done breaking you in.”
“I won’t shower in front of you. Get out!”
“Then I will call Remo and tell him to punish you.”
Oh … so he would call me? Interesting. I stalked closer, not making a sound. Simeone’s back twitched like he was busy jerking off, which was probably the case.
My mouth pulled into a snarl, but I held back my anger.
More silence followed and I approached without making a sound. Simeone’s profile appeared in my view, leaning in the doorway with his hand clutching his ugly dick as he rubbed it furiously. I stopped a few steps from him, and there was Serafina in the shower, her back turned to him.
Simeone was practically salivating on the ground and jerking off, watching Serafina shower. She was a sight to behold, no argument. Her skin was pale like marble. Her ass two white orbs I wanted to sink my teeth into. There wasn’t a blemish on her body, not a single imperfection, so unlike my own. She had been protected all her life, kept safe from the dangers of this world, and here she was at my mercy.
“Turn around. I want to see your tits and cunt,” Simeone ordered, his hand moving faster on his cock.
Simeone was so wrapped up in watching her and wanking off, he didn’t notice me. “If you don’t turn around, I’ll call Remo.”
“I won’t turn around, you pig!” she hissed. “Then get Remo. I don’t care!”
“You little whore! I will turn you around myself.”
Simeone made a move as if to push off the doorway, when Serafina turned around, one arm wrapped protectively over her breasts, the other hand shielding her pussy. The water pouring down her face almost hid her tears. She gave Simeone the most disgusted look I’d ever seen, her head held high … and then she spotted me.
“See, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Simeone rasped.
My lip curled. I pulled the knife from my holster, slid my fingers through the knuckle holder, relishing in the feel of the cold metal against my skin. She watched unmoving as I stepped up to Simeone. Her perfect proud lips wouldn’t utter a warning.
I wrapped my arm around his throat in a crushing grip and pressed my knife against his lower abdomen. He cried out in surprise and let go of his cock. “You were going to call me?” I asked.
His terror-widened eyes blinked up at me as his face turned red from the pressure of my grip. I loosened my hold so he could speak.
“Remo, I made sure she wasn’t messing around. It’s not how it looks.”
“Hmm. Did you know that no man has ever seen what you just saw?”
He shook his head frantically. I lifted my gaze to Serafina, who was watching with a frozen expression.
“You see, now you have seen something that I had no intention of sharing,” I explained in a pleasant voice. I slid the knife into his abdomen, only a couple of inches. He cried out, flailing in my grip. I held him fast, my eyes never leaving Serafina. Blood trickled down over my hand. His filthy blood.
Serafina dropped her arms to her side. I didn’t think she noticed. She stared at me in open horror. For once her prideful mask had slipped and revealed her true nature: a softhearted, breakable woman. And I took in the sight of her firm breasts and the golden curls at the apex of her thighs, perfectly trimmed into a triangle. For her wedding night. What a pity that poor Danilo would never get to see it. She was mine for the taking.
“Remo,” Simeone spluttered. “I won’t tell anyone what I saw. Please, I beg you.”
“I believe you,” I said mildly. “But you will remember.” I drove the knife deeper into his flesh, moving slow, letting him savor every inch of the blade. “Did you imagine how it would be to sink your filthy cock into her pussy?”
He gurgled.
The knife was buried to the hilt in his abdomen. “Did you imagine to bury yourself to the hilt inside her?” His eyes were bulging, his breathing labored.
I twisted the knife and he screamed again. Then I pulled it back out as slowly as it had gone in. His legs gave way, and I let him drop to the ground. He clutched his wound, crying like a coward. It would be another ten or fifteen minutes before he died. He’d wish it were less. “Remember what I told you about your eyeballs and tongue? Your cock will join them.”
I brought the knife down on his cock, and Serafina whirled around with a gasp.
SERAFINA
My hands were splayed out against the white tiles of the shower. I couldn’t breathe. Terror clogged my throat. Nothing in my upbringing had prepared me for this. Nothing could have. I was falling apart fast. Faster than I’d ever thought possible.
Pride and honor were the pillars of our world, the pillars of my upbringing. I needed to cling to them. He could take everything from me, but not that. Never that.
Simeone was screaming and I pressed my palms against my ears, trying to shut him out—to no avail.
Ice Princess no more.
My eyes were blurry from tears and water. But the image of Remo sinking his knife into a man with that twisted smile on his face was etched into my mind. How was I supposed to stay prideful? How was I supposed to hold my head high and not let him see my fear? Nothing had ever scared me more than Remo Falcone.
Monsters aren’t real, my mother had told me a long time ago when I was afraid to sleep in the dark and kept crawling into Samuel’s bed. I hadn’t believed her back then, and that was before meeting Remo.
The screaming stopped.
I shuddered and lowered my hands slowly. Something red caught my eyes. I looked down at the shower floor where red water was pooling around my feet. I blinked. And then it clicked. Floor-level shower. Remo bringing down the knife on the man’s … My feet looked even paler against the red. My vision shifted and something broke apart in me. I was standing in someone’s blood.
I heard myself screaming and tried to get out of the blood but the ground was slippery. I twisted around, holding onto the shower walls. And then I saw the rest of the cell. The entire floor was covered in blood, and amidst it all stood Remo, tall and dark, knife still gleaming in his hand. His chest and arms were smeared with blood. Red. Red. Red. Everywhere.
I was still screaming and screaming until I couldn’t scream anymore because there was no air left in my lungs. And I could not breathe.
Remo sheathed his knife and stalked toward me.
I flailed, trying to get away from him, from the blood, from the sight of the dead man behind Remo.
My feet slipped on the floor, and I was falling. My knees sank into the blood, my hands followed.
Remo pulled me up, my body pressed against his, and the smell of blood filled my nose. I clutched at his shoulders for balance. And then I pulled one hand back and it came away red. And one glance down. Red. My skin. Red. Everything red.
My eyes found Remo’s blood covered body. Red. Red. Red.
I started struggling against his hold. I fought with all I had. “Please,” I gasped out. Remo lifted me in his arms, and I had no fight left in me. He carried me barefoot through the cell, stepping over the dead man. When had he got rid of his shoes?
A hysteric laugh bubbled up my throat, but it turned into a sob. This was too much.
Remo walked into another cell and set me down on the floor of the shower. I sank down, curling up on my side, unable to remain in a sitting position. My chest was heaving, but I wasn’t breathing. Through my foggy vision, I watched Remo getting out of his bloody clothes and coming toward me. Naked. I didn’t register more than that.
I closed my eyes.
He moved his arms under my knees and back and lifted me once more. Then cold water splashed down on me, and I sucked in a deep breath, my eyes shooting open. Remo shifted with me in his arms, leaning forward, his forehead pressed against the tiles as he looked down at me. His body shielded me from the cold water raining down on us, and his dark eyes held mine.
“It takes a while before the water gets warm down here,” he said calmly.
So calm. My eyes searched his face. Eerily calm. No sign that he had just killed a man in a barbaric way. I shuddered, my teeth chattering. Even when the water turned warm, my teeth kept clanking together, and they didn’t stop even when Remo stepped back out of the shower with me still in his arms.
Remo walked out of the cell and carried me through the corridor. Panic tore at my chest.
“Fuck,” someone said. A man.
“Get me a fucking blanket, Savio,” Remo growled.
He tightened his hold as he carried me upstairs. I closed my eyes, too shaken to put up a fight. Something soft and warm covered me, and then I was put down on warm leather.
“You can’t drive through the city naked. And there’s still blood on your body.”
“You can drive,” Remo said, and then his body eased in beside me.
“Where the fuck are we taking her?”
“Home.”
“Nino won’t like that one fucking bit. You know how protective he is of Kiara.”
“I don’t give a fuck. Now shut up and drive.”
I focused on breathing, focused on remembering what made me happy. Samuel. Mom. Dad. Sofia.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The minutes seemed to blur together, when Remo picked me up again and eventually put me down on something soft. My eyes peeled open, heavy-lidded and burning from crying.
The first thing I registered was the bed I was lying on. Soft satin sheets, blood-red. A majestic canopy bed made from black wood, the posts twisting as if two branches had wound around another to form each. Heavy blood-red drapes hung from the canopy, blocking the bright sunlight streaming into the bedroom. I put my trembling hand flat against the smooth sheet, white against red, like in the shower. I shuddered and started hyperventilating again.
Remo appeared beside the bed and sank down, causing the mattress to dip under his weight. He was naked except for a knife holster, which was strapped to his chest. Muscles and scars and barely restrained strength.
I averted my eyes, my teeth beginning to chatter again. Remo reached over me. “Don’t,” I said weakly. Then firmer, “Don’t touch me.”
Remo’s dark eyes held mine with intent. He bent low until his face filled my vision. “After what you saw me do today, you still defy me? Don’t you think submitting to me will make things less painful for you?” His voice was soft, low, almost curious.
“Yes,” I whispered, and something shifted in his eyes … was that disappointment? “But I’d rather take pain than submit to your will, Remo.”
He smiled darkly and reached over me again. Before I could react, he pulled a blanket over my body, covering my nakedness. My eyes widened.
“How can you know what you prefer if you’ve never experienced either? Neither pain…” he brushed his lips lightly across my mouth, not a kiss but a threat “…nor pleasure.”
A shiver traveled down my spine. My throat was dry, my limbs heavy.
“I want to show you both, Angel.” He paused, his dark eyes burning into me. “But I fear you’d rather kill yourself than give yourself to me.” He pulled his knife out and put it down beside me. “You should end your life, take the easy way out, because nobody will come to save you, and I won’t stop until I’ve broken you, body and soul.”
I believed him. How could I not with the intense determination and coldness in his dark eyes? I reached for the knife then pushed into a sitting position and pressed the blade against Remo’s throat. He didn’t flinch, only regarded me with unsettling eyes.
“I won’t ever kill myself. I won’t do that to my family. But you will never break me. I won’t let you.”
Remo tilted his head, again with a hint of curiosity. “If you want to kill me, do it now because you won’t get another chance, Angel.” My hand holding the knife shook. Remo didn’t take his eyes off me as he shifted closer to me, climbing up on one knee then the other until he leaned over me. I pressed harder and blood welled to the surface. My eyes focused on the red coating the blade against Remo’s skin.
Remo moved over me and drove the knife harder into his flesh. I yielded, fixated on the blood trickling down his throat, on its smell, its bright color.
Remo lowered himself on top of me, the knife between our throats, his body covering mine with only the blanket between us. He regarded me, dark eyes peeling away layer over layer of protective walls that I tried to put up.
Hysteria swirled in my chest, the memories of the basement clawing at the fringes of my mind. Remo curled his hand around mine and the handle then slowly pried my hands off it and took the knife from me. He dropped it to the bed beside us.
I could feel every inch of his strong, muscled body against mine, but my eyes couldn’t focus on anything but the blood on his skin, dripping from the cut I had inflicted. He pressed two fingers to my throat, feeling my erratic pulse. “Still in the grasp of panic, hmm?”
I swallowed. He pulled away and stood. Then he bent over me. “You are safe in your weakest moments, Angel. I don’t enjoy breaking the weak. I will break you when you are strong.”
He grabbed the knife and turned around, presenting his back to me. My eyes traced the tattoo of the kneeling fallen angel. Was that how Remo saw himself? A fallen angel with broken wings? A dark angel risen from Hell?
And what was I?
Before he left the room, he glanced over his shoulder at me. “Don’t try to run, Angel. There are more men like Simeone waiting to get their hands on you. I’d hate having to send them after you and hurt you.”
As if anyone could hurt me worse than Remo would.
I forced a smile. “We both know you’re lying. You won’t let anyone hurt me.”
Remo cocked one dark eyebrow. “I won’t?”
“You won’t because you want to be the one to break me, to make me scream.”
Remo’s mouth pulled into a smile that raised the little hairs on my skin.
A smile that would haunt me forever.
“Oh, I will make you scream, Angel. That I swear.”
Suppressing a shudder, I dug my nails into my palms and forced more words from my tight throat. “Don’t waste your time. Kill me now.”
“We all have to let part of ourselves die to rise up stronger. Now sleep tight. I’ll return later for a proper video message for your family.”
“Why did you even save me from Simeone? Why not let him start the torture you have in mind for me? Why bring me here to your mansion?”
Remo regarded me as if he, too, was wondering the same thing, and his silence told me that my guess had been right; this was indeed the Falcone mansion. It surprised me that he would risk bringing me into his family’s home.
“Like you said, I will be the one to make you scream and no one else.” He closed the door.
I shut my eyes and pulled the covers tighter around myself.
A power play. A twisted game of chess.
I wasn’t going to be a pawn or a queen, and Remo wouldn’t be the king.
