“Lucy? You haven’t eaten anything.” I nudged my sister where she lay in a lump under the covers. She was sleeping so much, she had to be falling into a deep depression, but I had no idea how to fix it.
She ignored me, though I could tell she was awake. She was disappointed in me, I suspected. All her life, I’d taken care of her, provided for her, and been larger than life in her eyes, like a parental figure. Now, she’d seen that I was just a person, like her, and I had no magical powers to fix things. In fact, my fix was awful: Marrying into a mafia family to keep us alive. Lucy’s delusions about the safety of the world and our place in it were being spoiled, and there was nothing I could do about it.
“I have to go downstairs. I’ll be back in a little while,” I told her.
She didn’t answer. She was grieving the loss of the life she’d imagined for herself, and I got it. We’d both lost a lot in recent days.
I headed down to the lower level of Casa Nera, for once taking every correct bend in the corridor and ending up in the second drawing room, where my presence had been requested by Elio’s batshit crazy sister, Giada. The woman from the charity benefit, it turned out, had been a member of Renato’s inner circle and not a girlfriend. I didn’t know how to feel about that. She was a lot to handle.
I knocked and stepped inside, and then froze. The beautiful dark-blue-and-gold room looked different. The velvet couches and side tables had been pushed to the side, and a huge set of mirrors had been set up, with a raised dais in the middle.
“Finally, you’re here. I nearly finished the bubbly while I waited,” Giada huffed. She was leaning back on a couch, her heavy boots perched on top of a gleaming, polished mahogany table. She hefted the heavy bottle toward me. “Here, have some.”
I approached her warily. “What’s the occasion? Is this a wedding dress fitting?”
Giada snorted. “What gave it away?”
“I really don’t need a fancy wedding dress for this fiasco. Just bundle me up in a burlap sack and write ‘hostage’ across it. I’m sure that’s all anyone will see when they look at me, anyway,” I muttered and took the bottle. I needed the liquid courage to face my rapidly approaching reality.
Giada laughed and slapped me hard on the thigh, making me jump. “Girl, you crack me up. I, for one, can’t wait for the fireworks show that your marriage is going to be.” She glanced toward the doorway. “Shh, here’s the designer. Better lose the attitude and be good, or I’ll tell Daddy.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Daddy?”
“Renato,” she clarified.
A hot flush worked through me. Was that jealousy? Hell no.
“You call him Daddy? What kind of relationship do you two have?”
“Sibling rivalry…He’s not my daddy.” She grinned at me, the edge of sharp wickedness sending more heat flooding to my face. “He’s yours.”
“Yeah, right,” I muttered, standing and turning my face away so she couldn’t see my reaction. My body was a fucking traitor, and I hated it. I swigged more booze and jumped guiltily when a throat cleared behind me.
“Good afternoon. I take it you’re the bride? Please disrobe, and we’ll begin.”
The designer was a small, steel-haired man who seemed to be in his seventies. He had a strong Italian accent, and the air of someone who expected to be revered.
The people pleaser in me hurried to comply.
Ten minutes later, I stood on the dais, a half-finished gown of raw silk, chiffon, and sinfully smooth satin hanging off my body.
“Fuck! Vito, that dress is hot,” Giada proclaimed, looking away from her phone long enough to whistle loudly. “You’re channeling virgin sacrifice right now and it’s working.”
A virgin sacrifice for an angry god.
“Very Phantom of the Opera vibes. I love it. It’ll even be hot when it’s ripped off and on the floor on your wedding night.”
I stared at myself. I could hardly recognize my reflection. I’d never been so glamorous. The dress was hauntingly exquisite. Giada was right. There was a magical quality to it that enchanted me.
I wasn’t a pretty dress kind of person. I was a scrubs and Crocs person. Someone who valued clothes for their practical usefulness, not for the aesthetic. Ripped off and on the floor. Giada’s goading words were no doubt designed to scare me. She needn’t bother. I was scared enough already. It wasn’t just the thought of Renato De Sanctis claiming his conjugal rights that scared me, but what I’d become in his hands. My body wasn’t to be trusted around him.
Vito moved around me, pinning the waist and highlighting my curves. I’d never looked so beautiful. The back was completely open, as was the still-unpinned cleavage. I couldn’t wait to see what it would be like when it was done. As soon as I thought it, shame filled me.
Well done, Charlie. You’re like the lamb who can’t wait to see what the butcher’s knife feels like. This isn’t a wedding gown, it’s a pearl-and-lace jumpsuit for a lifer. It’s just white instead of orange. Get a fucking grip.
Then Giada spoke, and all fluffy, romantic thoughts vanished from my mind. “Hey, when you send an email, do you go by Charlie or Charlotte?”
“Charlotte. Why?”
Giada nodded and tapped at her laptop, and soon the sound of an email zooming off into hyperspace chimed.
“What did you just send?” I demanded and pushed Vito’s hand away, twisting to look at her.
“Your resignation from the hospital and your degree program.”
“What?” It was a sudden punch in the gut. “Why?”
Giada shrugged like it didn’t interest her in the slightest. “Boss’s orders.”
“Boss’s orders?” I repeated, my voice shrill. “Boss’s orders?!” I nearly shouted.
Giada nodded. “If you don’t like it, take it up with Ren.”
Something inside me snapped. It was my sense of caution and self-preservation. Turned out, you could only push someone so far until you found their breaking point. I’d just found mine.
“Fine. I will,” I ground out, clenching my teeth so hard I tasted metal.
Then I spun on my heel, anger and frustration building inside me like a volcano about to blow, and stormed out of the room.
Sonny struggled to keep up with me as I strode through the house.
“The boss is in a meeting,” he warned me as I closed in on Renato’s study, the only off-limits room in the house.
“I don’t care,” I fumed.
He stepped in front of the door.
“What? Are you under instructions to carry me off if I try and disturb His Majesty?”
Sonny snorted. “Fuck, no. I’m not to touch you under any circumstances.”
“Oh, really? That’s good to know.” I advanced on him, and he jumped back to avoid touching me. Triumphantly, I reached for the doors and pushed them open.
“Good luck,” Sonny murmured and ducked out from behind me.
Seven men sat around a long rectangular table, with Renato at its head.
A few flinched at the sound of the doors crashing open, and one reached for his piece and then stopped himself. Of course, no one drew a weapon in Renato’s presence without his permission. The man really got off on controlling others.
“Charlotte. To what do we owe the pleasure?” Renato purred. He didn’t look annoyed by my sudden entrance.
I folded my arms, and his gaze dropped to my chest. Anger sparked suddenly, and his faint bemusement morphed instantly to fury. “Leave us.”
The word had hardly left his lips before the men assembled were scrambling to leave the room. I met his fiery gaze throughout the scraping of chairs and general air of fluster while the room emptied.
The door closed behind the last man, and we were alone. Nerves prickled along my spine at Renato’s dark look. My courage, born of righteous anger, was deserting me now, when I needed it the most.
He stood slowly, smoothing a hand through his dark waves, the veins rippling in his strong forearm. Why did he have his sleeves rolled up? Didn’t he know what that did to innocent bystanders? He probably did and enjoyed it. He was a sadist, clearly.
“Before you start your tirade on your latest issue with your situation, let me be clear.” He strolled to me and then reached out a hand to my half-sewn bodice.
I jerked with surprise when his finger landed on the curve of my breast. Not on the material of the dress, on my skin.
Gasping, I glanced downward. My reckless movements had unpinned the edges of the gown, and my breasts threatened to spill free. My nipples were barely covered, the inside curves of both tits on display, with the rest pressing dangerously close to escaping.
Renato’s tanned hand was huge and shocking against the pale curve of my tit. It was just so male, and held such an aura of restrained violence, I couldn’t look away. His finger traveled over the plump swell, slipping under the curve, somehow kneading me with one finger. Better than anything I’d ever felt before.
Then his hand drew the material closed over my exposed skin, his fingers brushing over my straining nipples. Fuck, my nipples were hard little stones beneath his accidental touch. Needy, wanton, and blithely oblivious to the fact that I shouldn’t be turned on by this man. This monster, my mind reminded me. But it was too late for my body. It was desperate for more.
“You will not walk around this house in such a state of undress. You will not let any man here, except me, your husband, see what lies beneath your clothes, or you’ll suffer the consequences.”
My mouth had gone dry as hell. “What consequences?”
“You’ll find out if you don’t listen to my warning, bambina. I don’t allow threats in my presence, and that includes all this.” He slid a hand from the neckline of my gown down to my waist.
“My body? It’s hardly a lethal weapon,” I muttered, squirming on the spot. I needed to cross my legs or find some way to relieve the pooling heat gathering between them. He was making me wet, and he was barely even touching me. What dark sorcery was this?
“That’s for me to decide. Remember, my house, my rules. Now, what brings you here, half-dressed and ready to kill?”
He released his grip on my gown, and I hurriedly pulled the gaping bodice together, straightening my back and trying to locate a lucid thought.
“My job. The psycho you have working for you just told me that apparently, I’m quitting my job and nursing program?”
Renato moved to the window beside his desk and looked out, hiding his face from me. “Yes, of course you are. What’s the problem?”
I swallowed the hurt of his callous tone. “I’ve worked for years to become a nurse. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I think your life has taken you far from what you wanted by now, hasn’t it? Surely you can’t think I’d let you travel to the shore every single day to be out of the house from dawn till dusk. I might have extended you mercy, Charlotte, but don’t push it.”
“So what? I’m just supposed to stay in this house all the time, lounging around…waiting to die one day?”
“You can treat the De Sanctis men who are hurt. Let me assure you, they’re in constant supply.”
“You can’t possibly think that’s the same? Working at a hospital helping people, or patching up mobsters in a dungeon?”
“Are their lives worth less than other people’s?” Renato challenged, turning to watch my reaction. “Is their pain and suffering less valid? Do their families care less if they die?”
“You’re twisting my words,” I ground out.
“Maybe you’re using the wrong words,” Renato responded quietly.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, fine. Being a nurse and working in a big hospital has always been my dream. You’re killing my dream. Does that make more sense to you?”
Renato thought for a second, his eyebrows drawing together. Christ, the man was handsome.
After an excruciating pause, he spoke. “You once asked me if I believed in God. Do you?”
The crucifix on the wall stared down at us, judging my thoughts. “It’s not a case of whether or not I believe in God. God has never believed in me,” I finally said when his inspection became too much.
“Poetically put.” He nodded appreciatively at me before continuing. “But I think you have more faith than you realize. You have faith that challenging me like this won’t get you killed. You have faith that telling me your dreams, and begging me not to kill them, will move me…”
“I’m not begging.”
“Aren’t you?” He stalked toward me.
I fought the urge to back up.
“You are a burning ball of contradictions, anima mia. You keep me guessing what you’ll do next. You have a whole lot of faith, even if you don’t realize it.”
“I don’t—” I attempted.
He reached out and touched my cheek, robbing me of words. The back of his finger smoothed over the apple of my cheek. “You have faith that I can be a better man than I’ve ever proved myself to be, and I don’t know which one of us is the greater fool…you for believing, or me…for even considering it.”
He stared into my eyes, so intense, one wrong move would blow us both apart. We were a powder keg and a match, desperate to meet.
His fingers slid up my cheek and pushed my hair behind my ear. “If you believe in God, which I’m sure you do, somewhere deep down inside, then know this…” He leaned in as he spoke, putting his lips to my ear. His warm breath sent shivers across my skin. “He gave you to me. We were destined to meet. Fate has woven us together, and those threads can never be untangled. Your God wanted me to have you…and now that I do, I’ll never give you back.”
I swayed, suddenly weak in the knees. Was it fear sending a gale of heat through me, followed by an icy shiver? Everything in my body tingled, heightened by his deep murmur and the utter blasphemy of his words. He was crazy, and yet his voice murmuring in my ear was the hottest thing that had ever happened to me.
Maybe I was more broken than I’d ever realized.
He stayed there for a long moment, his lips resting on my skin. If I turned my head, my mouth would meet his.
I waited.
He waited.
I didn’t move.
Gradually, he drew back. “I’ll think about your points, and you think of why I should allow it.” A smirk passed over his insufferably handsome lips. “Maybe you can convince me.”
His dry tone was laced with amusement, like my pain and suffering were fun for him. And what response did his mocking give me? Wet panties and a pounding heart. Hard nipples that I wished he’d take between his teeth.
“I hate you, you know that?”
“No, little nurse, I don’t think you do, and that bothers you more than anything.”
I pushed back from him, and he let me.
“I do hate you, and one day, you’ll get everything you deserve. I might have a complicated relationship with God, but I believe in karma. In the end, you’ll burn for your sins,” I said quietly but full of conviction.
He stared at me for a few beats before nodding. “Amen. Now, get out of here before I change my mind about letting you leave.”
My courage all spent, I took his advice and left, feeling his eyes on my naked back the whole way.
