I grabbed sweatpants to put on before I headed downstairs into our gaming room, where Savio, Nino, and Adamo were sitting. Since Kiara had joined our family, my days of walking through the house naked when I pleased were fucking over. My brothers regarded me as if I was a bomb about to detonate.
I flashed them a smile.
Adamo shook his head but didn’t say anything. He didn’t try to hide his aversion toward me or his reluctance about becoming a Camorrista.
Nino rose slowly. “You shouldn’t have brought her here.”
I grabbed the pizza menu. “Savio, order pizza for us and an extra one for Serafina.”
Nino came around the sofa. My eyes flickered over the tension in his limbs. “Remo, take her somewhere else.”
“No,” I said. “She will stay here, under this roof, where I can keep a fucking eye on her.”
My brother stopped in front of me, a deep frown pulling his brows together. That was the equivalent of an angry outburst from him. “This situation might cause another one of Kiara’s episodes.”
“Kiara is your wife, not mine. Make sure she doesn’t see anything that she isn’t supposed to see. Where is she anyway?”
“In our wing. The moment Savio told me you were bringing Serafina, I told her to stay there.”
“See? No problem.” I moved past him toward the bar and grabbed a beer. Nino followed as Savio ordered pizza in the background.
“It is a huge problem. Your captive is upstairs, free to roam the place as she sees fit. She could walk around the house and cross Kiara.”
“I doubt Serafina will do that right now. She’s too shaken and probably taking a beauty sleep as we speak. She can’t escape from the premises, and one of you will have to guard her to make sure she doesn’t do something stupid.”
Nino assessed me. “I really hope you know what you’re doing. This is supposed to bring the Outfit down. Don’t forget that, Remo.”
My mouth pulled wide. “It will crush them. They will bleed out slowly, painfully, without ever feeling my blade. This will destroy them.”
Nino gave a nod because even if emotions were still hard to grasp for him, he knew the effect mind games had in a war.
“You disgust me,” Adamo muttered.
“Four days,” I reminded him.
He stood, jutting his chin out. “What if I say no?”
Savio shoved him. “You’d be a fucking disgrace, a traitor. What would you do? Where would you go?”
Adamo shoved him back. “I don’t give a fuck. Anything is better than becoming like you.”
I stalked toward him. He lifted his chin. “You say this because from the day of your birth you’ve been protected. You’ve never been subjected to true cruelty. You are a Falcone, Adamo, and one day you will be proud to be one.”
“I wish I wasn’t a Falcone. I wish you weren’t my brother.”
“Adamo,” Nino warned, looking at my face.
“Fuck you!” Adamo shouted and ran off upstairs.
“He’ll come around, eventually,” Nino drawled.
“How much time until the pizza arrives?” I asked Savio.
He exchanged a look with Nino before replying, “Twenty minutes.”
“Time for a phone call,” I said, nodding at Nino, who hesitated briefly but then took out his mobile and scrolled through it.
Nino handed me the phone with the number I didn’t recognize. “That’s Dante’s number if he hasn’t changed it from our last call years ago.”
“Good. Get some of Kiara’s clothes. A white nightgown if she has one.”
Nino frowned deeply but walked past me and disappeared into his wing.
“How are you going to keep her in check? Make sure she doesn’t try to run or kill herself?”
“She’s been sheltered all her life. She’s far from home, far from the men who’ve protected her. Freedom scares her more than captivity.”
Savio laughed. “You sound awfully sure of it.”
I grinned. Nino returned, looking as close to pissed as he ever did. He held the clothes out to me. Among them a silvery satin nightgown. Perfect. “Kiara suspects something’s the matter.”
I took the clothes, not bothering to comment, and walked past him toward my wing where I barged into Serafina’s room without knocking. My eyes wandered from the empty bed toward the wall behind it, where Serafina tried opening the window, which she couldn’t do without the necessary keys.
She whirled around, the blood-red sheets wrapped around her body, her blond hair a wild mane slithering down her shoulders. Her skin glowed so innocently white against the red of the covers. I wanted to run my tongue over it to see if it would taste as pure as she looked.
Not cowering in the bed as I’d expected but trying to escape. This little birdy seemed desperate to escape my cage, only to flutter right into Danilo’s. Her eyes and face held remnants of her earlier panic, but she tilted her chin upward and narrowed her eyes at me. Determined to play with the big boys.
I strolled into the room. Her shoulders pulled back, an act of defiance, but her hand flew up to press the sheet against her body, her fingers splayed out against the red, visibly shaking. My eyes never leaving her, I set the clothes down on the bed, catching the hint of her sweet scent. I’d caught it earlier, as if she’d been massaged with vanilla oil in preparation for her wedding night. My nostrils flared. “Trying to escape my cage, little bird?”
She tossed me a haughty look. “You’re awfully fond of creatures with wings.”
“I enjoy breaking them.”
Her lip curled, and still she managed to be perfectly beautiful. I could guess the images that ran through her mind, of me torturing tiny animals. That was for cowards, for men not capable of facing a worthy opponent. “I’m not that kind of psychopath.”
“What kind are you, then?”
I smiled. “You won’t be able to open the window. Don’t waste your energy trying to escape.”
“Did you have the locks installed specifically for me, or do you make a habit of locking women in your bedroom so you can rape and torture them for your personal entertainment?”
I stalked toward her, backed her against the windowsill then braced myself against the glass, glaring down at her. “No,” I said. “My father had them installed for my mother.”
Disgust flashed across Serafina’s face. “You Falcones are all monsters.”
I leaned down, breathing in her scent. “My father was a monster. I’m worse.”
Her pulse thudded in her veins. I could see her fear throbbing against the unblemished skin of her throat. I stepped back then nodded toward the clothes. “For you. Tomorrow morning you will wear the silver nightgown.”
Serafina walked toward the bed sideways to keep an eye on me then scowled at the heap on her bed.
I raised the phone to my ear and pressed the call button. After the second ring, Dante’s cold voice sounded. “Cavallaro.”
“Dante, good to hear your voice.”
Serafina’s head jerked toward me, and she sank down on the bed, her prideful mask cracking as her fingers curled into a fist, gripping the sheet.
Silence rang on the other end, and I smiled. I wished I could see Cavallaro’s expression as he was being faced with the consequences of his actions, and the realization that his niece would pay for his sins.
“Remo.”
I heard male voices in the background and a hysteric female one. Serafina’s mother. “I would like a word with you, Capo to Capo. From one man who had his territory breached to another. Two men of honor.”
“I’m a man of honor, Remo. I don’t know what you are, but honorable isn’t it.”
“Let’s agree to disagree on that.”
“Is Serafina alive?” he asked quietly.
I trailed my eyes over the glaring woman, clutching the red blankets around her naked body.
I heard a furious voice in the background. “I will break every fucking bone in your body!”
“Is that her twin?”
Pain flashed across her face, and she swallowed.
“Is she alive?” Dante repeated, his voice shaking with anger.
“What do you think?”
“She is, because alive she is worth more than dead.”
“Indeed. I don’t have to tell you that I will kill her in the most painful way I can think of if a single Outfit soldier breaches my territory to save her, and I can be very creative when it comes to inflicting pain.”
Even from a distance I could see her blood pounding furiously in her veins as she stared down at her fist.
“I want to speak to her.”
“Not yet.”
“Remo, you crossed a line, and you will pay for it.”
“Oh, I’m sure you think so.”
“What do you want?”
“It’s not time for that kind of conversation yet, Dante. I don’t think you are quite ready for it. Tomorrow morning we will have another date. Set up a camera. I want you, her brother, father, and fiancé in a room in front of that camera. Nino will give you instructions how to set everything up. I will set up a camera myself so we can see and hear each other.”
Serafina’s eyes met mine.
“Remo—” Dante’s voice held a warning, but I lowered the phone from my ear and ended the call.
Serafina stared at me, wide eyed. I moved closer, and she stiffened but otherwise didn’t show her fear, despite the exhaustion on her face. “Tomorrow we will start playing, Angel.”
I left, wanting her to ponder my words. Nino waited in the corridor as I closed the door. I raised my eyebrows in passing. “Pizza’s arrived?”
Nino followed close behind me then grabbed my shoulder. “What kind of video do you have in mind for tomorrow?”
I regarded him, trying to gauge his mood, but even now it was still difficult. “I’ll give her a choice.”
Nino shook his head once, almost disapproving. “This woman is innocent. She’s not a debtor. Not a whore who steals money. She hasn’t done anything.”
“Kiara changed you.”
“Not in this regard. We’ve never preyed on the innocent, Remo. We’ve never laid a hand on someone who didn’t deserve it, and this woman, this girl … she did nothing to deserve that choice.”
I held his gaze. “You know me better than anyone else,” I murmured. “And yet here we stand.”
Nino tilted his head, gray eyes narrowing. “You’re playing a dangerous game. You don’t know your opponent well enough to be sure of her choice.”
“She will choose what they all do, Nino. She’s a woman. She’s been coddled all her life. She will take the easy way. I want to hear her say it in front of that fucking camera, want Dante hear his niece offer her fucking body to me, want them all to hear it, and she will.”
Downstairs, I grabbed one of the pizza boxes before I returned to the guest bedroom in my wing. This time, Serafina sat on the bed and didn’t look up when I entered. She held the silver nightgown in her hands. “What if I refuse to wear it?”
“You can wear your nightgown for the show or be naked. Your blood will look just as enticing against your white skin as it would against the nightgown.”
A small shiver rippled through her body, and she let the piece of clothing flutter to the ground at her bare feet.
I walked closer. “Here. You haven’t eaten in more than a day.” I set the pizza box down on the nightstand.
She eyed it suspiciously. I waited for her to shove it away, to try punishing me by starving herself, like my mother had always tried with our father. It hadn’t worked with him, and it wouldn’t work with me.
“I hope it’s poisoned,” she muttered then reached for a slice and took a big bite. She chewed then raised her eyes to mine. She swallowed almost defiantly. “Are you going to watch me eat?”
Maybe breaking her wings wouldn’t be as easy as I’d thought.
Early the next morning Fabiano came over. I was doing kicks against the punching bag in our game room, needing to release my pent up energy.
He leaned against the doorframe, assessing me for a couple of heartbeats.
“Say what you’ve got to say,” I growled and landed a hard kick.
“Jerry called me into the Sugar Trap a couple of hours ago so I could deal with the mess you created. I found Simeone with his cock stuffed into his mouth. I’m not sure I want to know what happened.”
I narrowed my eyes. “If you didn’t want to know, you wouldn’t be here.”
He pushed away from the doorframe and moved toward me. “Did he touch her?”
I stopped my kicks. “He didn’t. He thought he could watch Serafina showering.”
Fabiano evaluated my face. “Where is she?”
“In bed.”
His eyebrows rose. “In your bed?”
I didn’t say anything, but I met his eyes straight on.
He sighed. “So, you …” He searched for the right word then gave up. “I thought you wanted to use her virginity as leverage against Cavallaro and her fiancé?”
I tried to gauge Fabiano’s feelings, but he was too good at masking them. If he put that kind of effort into hiding his feelings, he would only disapprove of me taking Serafina with force.
I stalked toward him. “Do you harbor feelings for her?”
He grimaced. “Really? I have Leona. I’m not interested in Fina.”
“But you don’t like the idea of me hurting her?”
“You are Capo. You do with her whatever you want, but no, I don’t like the idea of you punishing her for something the Outfit did.”
I respected Fabiano for his honesty. Most men were too cowardly to tell me the truth to my face. “Then you should leave now because I have a call set up with Dante and her family in two hours, and Serafina will play the leading role.”
He looked away, a muscle in his cheek twitching. “I should return to Leona.”
“You do that. Go to your girl. And I will go to mine.”
“She isn’t yours, Remo. She didn’t choose you. That’s a big difference,” Fabiano said before he turned and left. I returned to the punching bag and kicked it harder than before.
Serafina
Even the next morning, the pizza lay heavily in my stomach, but at least now my stomach was churning for another reason than terror. I considered eating another piece for breakfast. I needed all the energy I could get if I wanted to figure out a way to beat Remo at his own game because no matter how sheltered I was, I knew Remo wouldn’t have set up a video call with my family if he didn’t know he had something to show them that would hurt them.
I barely slept through the night. Remo hadn’t locked my door after he left, but I didn’t try venturing outside, fearing it was a trap. I was still too shaken to plan my flight in a way that would guarantee its success.
I slid the satin nightgown over my head, even if I didn’t want to give Remo even that small victory, but I’d have to pick my battles if I wanted to survive.
Steps in front of the door made me stiffen, and I got up from the bed, preferring to stand when facing Remo, but it wasn’t the scary Capo who entered. Savio Falcone stood in the doorway, his brown eyes taking in the length of me. I wrapped my arms around my chest before I could think better of it.
“Come,” he ordered with a nod toward the open door.
I walked toward him, and he made a move to grab my arm. “Don’t you dare touch me,” I hissed.
His eyebrows shot up, and he smiled arrogantly. “Then move your pretty ass. And take my advice, don’t ever talk to Remo like that or you’ll find yourself wishing you had never been born.”
I sent him a scathing look as I followed him through the house, taking in my surroundings. It was a spacious, twisted place that quickly left me confused. I could feel Savio’s eyes on me occasionally, more curious than sexual, but still his presence made me nervous. He was tall and muscled and too confident.
Eventually he led me down a steep staircase into a basement.
“Of course you Falcones have your own underground torture chamber,” I muttered, but even I could hear the undercurrent of panic in my voice.
A desolate, abandoned smell hung in the air. Thankfully no excrements or blood.
Savio didn’t say anything, but he motioned for me to enter a room on the right. Remo was already inside. “Here she is. I’m meeting Diego. Tell me how it went,” Savio said with a laugh.
“You’ll get to see the recording,” Remo said, his dark eyes locked on mine. “Stand over there,” he ordered, pointing at a spot in the center of the room. I followed his command, my brain whirring. The room was empty. No mattress, no chair, nothing except for a table with a camera that was pointed at me.
Remo walked around me, scanning my outfit. The silvery satin nightgown clung to my body, and as my nipples puckered in the cold basement, Remo’s eyes were drawn to them. I shivered.
Nino came in as well, and my terror increased as I watched him re-adjust the camera and put a big screen on the table in the corner. He turned the screen so it was facing our way. “Remo,” he said, and his brother went over to him. Nino frowned, but Remo touched his shoulder then looked at me. My nails found their way into the soft flesh of my palm.
The screen flashed to life, and on it I saw my family and Danilo, and my legs almost buckled.
Samuel jerked, his eyes so full of despair it tore at me, and Dad had dark circles under his eyes. Dante and Danilo were better at controlling their emotions, but they, too, didn’t look their usual composed selves.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” Remo said in a British accent, all posh and sophisticated. Wrong. A man like him shrouded in an air of violence and cruelty was anything but an English gentleman.
Remo smiled cruelly at them then turned to me, and his dark eyes flashed with excitement. “Serafina, in Las Vegas women get a choice …” His voice had returned to its normal, low, threatening vibrato.
“Don’t you dare!” Samuel shouted, lunging toward the camera as if it was Remo. Dante gripped his arm to stop him, but even my uncle appeared at the edge of control.
Remo ignored them, except for a twitch of his lip. He pulled out the knife he’d used to slaughter Simeone and showed it to me. “They can pay for their sins with pain or pleasure.”
I shuddered. “You have no right to judge other people’s sins,” I whispered harshly. Remo slowly walked behind me, too close, his breath hot against my neck. My eyes landed on the screen and met Samuel’s desperate gaze. He looked on the verge of breaking. I needed to be strong for them, for him and Dad, and even Dante and Danilo. For the Outfit.
“What do you choose, Serafina? Will you surrender to torture or pay with your body?”
I held Samuel’s gaze. I’d take my pride to the grave with me. Women were built to give birth. These men could brave pain and so could I.
Remo stepped back into my view. “If you don’t choose, I will make the choice for you.” His eyes and face said he knew my choice, was sure of it, because I was a woman, weak and insignificant.
I smiled arrogantly. “I will choose the bite of cold steel over the touch of your unworthy hands any day, Remo Falcone.”
His eyes flashed with surprise, respect … and terrifying excitement. “I will enjoy your screams.”
“Remo, this is enough,” Dante ordered.
Remo only stared at me, murmuring, “We have only just begun.” Without a warning he gripped me, whirled me around, and jerked me against his body—his chest, every inch of him pressing against my back and ass. His hand cupped my chin, tilting my head up so I was forced to look at him. He wanted to see my eyes, my expression, my fear and terror when he made me scream.
I returned his gaze with all the hatred and disgust I could summon. I hoped I’d be strong enough to deprive him of my screams, prayed for it. “Where would you like to feel my blade?”
He held the gleaming steel right before my eyes, letting me see the sharp edge of it. I had seen that both Remo’s and Nino’s Camorra tattoos covered scars on their forearms. Maybe it meant something, maybe not. I had nothing to lose at this point.
“Or did you change your mind about your choice? Will you pay with your body after all?”
I didn’t trust my voice because terror clogged my throat, and Remo could see it. I gripped his wrist and guided the knife to my arm until the cool blade touched the soft skin of my forearm, close to my veins.
Something flickered in Remo’s eyes and triumph filled me, because for some reason this spot got to him. I kept my hand on his as the blade rested against my sensitive skin.
Remo pressed and I tensed at the slight burn, but he wasn’t really cutting yet—as if he couldn’t bring himself to do it. I couldn’t believe it was because he had reservations about hurting me; this was the cruelest man in the west after all. And it definitely wasn’t because he couldn’t bear to destroy my unblemished skin. I was sure he’d love to be the first to leave a mark. There was something else holding him back, something dark and powerful. I pushed against his hand, pushed it down on my arm, and the blade cut my skin, but Remo resisted.
I searched his dark eyes, wondering what went on in their depths, terrified of ever finding out. Remo’s eyes hardened, turned harsh, brutal, and finally he pressed the blade down and it cut through my skin. Sharp pain burned through me, and I shook under the force of it, my hand still on top of his as he drew the knife across my skin, but not stopping him. For some reason his eyes reflected my pain as if he could feel it more profoundly than I did.
Remo released my chin, his arm snaking around my waist to keep me upright, but I kept my head tilted up, my eyes burning into his. I bit down on my lower lip as a scream clawed up my throat. Copper filled my mouth. Then it spilled over my lip, down my chin.
Remo stopped the blade, something in his eyes keeping me frozen.
“Enough!” Dad roared. “Stop it. Stop it now!”
Remo’s brows drew together as our gazes remained locked. He released my waist and stepped back. My legs buckled, and I fell to the ground, my knees colliding with the hard floor. I barely registered the pain. I sat back on my haunches as I cradled my arm in my lap. The cut wasn’t as deep as I thought, but blood soaked my silver satin gown, and the blood from my lip quickly joined it. I looked up to see Remo turning off the camera then the screen. Samuel’s desperate face disappeared from view.
Nino stood against the wall, his eyes on my wrist and an unsettling expression on his face. Remo had his back turned to me, facing his brother, but his shoulders were heaving.
I forced my body to stand, despite the shaking of my legs, and let my bleeding arm hang in front of me on display.
Nino tore his gaze away and stared at Remo. I wasn’t sure what passed between them, not sure I ever wanted to find out.
Remo slowly turned his head, his cruel eyes meeting mine, dark pools of rage leaving me breathless. For once he didn’t smirk or smile, didn’t look superior or furious. He looked almost confused in his own terrifying, otherworldly way.
And I swore to myself that no matter the price, no matter what it would cost me, one day I would be the one to bring Remo Falcone to his knees, the one to break the cruelest man I knew.
