Undone

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by Elisabeth Naughton


  I should have grabbed Luc and run. We shouldn’t have come back here. Memories of that depraved ritual I’d seen in the woods the last time I’d been here filled my mind, mingling with flashes of that awful ritual in which they’d raped and tortured my husband.

  Luc’s hand slid across the console and closed over my thigh, his fingers gently massaging the muscle beneath my slacks. The sensation jolted me out of whatever trance I’d slipped into, and I blinked, only to realize I’d stopped the car right in the middle of the long drive.

  I looked over at him, my mouth dry, my mind spinning with a thousand thoughts and options. The loudest of which was telling me it wasn’t too late to grab him and run.

  “It’s okay.” His voice was soft, and for a man who’d looked ready to detonate all day, he was surprisingly calm. Way calmer than me. “Marco was right. You’re safe.”

  It wasn’t me I was worried about.

  He squeezed my thigh. “Nothing’s going to happen here tonight, angioletto. I’ll make sure of it.”

  I didn’t know what that meant. And I didn’t want to ask. I just wanted to run. “Luc—”

  A horn honked behind us. I startled at the sound and glanced up at the rearview mirror. Twisting in his seat, Luc looked back then muttered, “Merda. So much for the element of surprise. Pull over so he can pass.”

  My heart pounded hard. I wasn’t sure who “he” was, but I did as Luc said, pulling the Mercedes to the right so the car behind us could move by.

  As the red Lamborghini drew up beside us, I turned to look, then wished I hadn’t. A blonde sat in the passenger seat, but it was driver I focused on. The lights from the dash illuminated Gio’s long dark hair and the devilish smile he cast my way, one I recognized from our ill-fated date back in New York. One that sent sickness surging in my belly all over again.

  His smile widened to a predatory grin, then he stepped on the gas and tore ahead of us up the hill, sending gravel and dust flying in the air. The blonde never once looked our way.

  Luc’s jaw clenched hard as he stared after Gio’s red taillights in the dark. “Stay close to me just in case. Even though he’s got a kitten with him, I don’t trust that porca puttana.”

  I didn’t trust Gio either. With or without a kitten to distract him. And I had no intention of letting Luc out of my sight.

  Knowing there was no way we could run now, I eased my foot off the brake and moved back onto the gravel drive. The headlights illuminated the curves in the road and the tall trees lining each side. It felt as if it took forever to wind our way to the top of the hill where the Salvatici castle was perched on the highest point south of Florence, but that was probably only because I was dreading what would meet us when we arrived.

  Giovanni was helping the blonde out of his sports car when I pulled around the sparkling fountain lit up from below and shifted into Park. My stomach twisted as he stood under the lights illuminating the circular drive and the front steps of the castle. I hadn’t gotten a look at him in the dark in Edinburgh, but he was exactly as I remembered—wavy dark hair to his shoulders, olive skin, pale blue eyes, and a muscular body. He was just as tall and broad-shouldered as Luc, but not nearly as handsome. And tonight, his expensive slacks and white dress shirt open to show off his chest hair didn’t impress me as it once might have. It only reminded me he was a predator. A slimy and vile predator who enjoyed hurting and murdering innocent women. Women like my long lost-friend Elena.

  A bitter rage brewed inside me. One that gave me strength. I reached for the door handle, but Luc stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Wait.”

  I turned toward him, suddenly realizing he had to be freaking out more than me. But when our eyes met, I saw he wasn’t on the verge of a breakdown. His stormy gaze was very focused and glinted with a dangerous gleam. One I’d seen only once before. Behind that phantom mask back at that party in New York when he’d watched me with Gio.

  My nerves shot straight up. “What?”

  “He needs to know where things stand.”

  I had no idea what he meant. Then he slid his fingers into my hair, tugged me toward him, and devoured my mouth with a kiss that curled my toes in my sensible heels.

  I was breathless when he finally let me go. Breathless and aching for him to kiss me like that again because for that brief moment, nothing had mattered but us.

  He reached for his door handle. “That did the trick. Come on.”

  My head was in a fog, but somehow, I climbed out of the car and even remembered my cardigan and my purse. The night air was much warmer in Tuscany than it had been in Scotland, but I was still cold. Chilled to my bones. Scared to death about this night.

  Slipping the strap of my purse over my shoulder, I moved around behind the vehicle and grasped Luc’s hand when he reached for me. Giovanni and his kitten were gone. We were alone as we moved up the front steps toward the open double doors ahead.

  I glanced toward Luc, dressed in slacks, a gray dress shirt that matched his eyes and was unbuttoned at the collar, and a silky soft suit jacket I knew had to cost a fortune. Marco’s staff had filled the closets for us, and I loved what they’d picked, but I couldn’t wait to get back to the villa so I could tear those clothes off him. So I could show him just how serious I was that he was mine.

  “I love you,” I whispered as we reached the top step.

  He stopped and looked down at me, and it was then I saw the stress churning in his tempestuous gaze. He squeezed my hand. “I love you too.”

  He didn’t say anything more. Didn’t pull me in for an embrace or any kind of reassurance that everything would be okay. He just moved into the ancient castle I’d vowed never to step foot in again and tugged me after him.

  We both drew to an abrupt stop, and my eyes widened when I spotted Luc’s father, the Grand Duke of House Salvatici, standing in the middle of the massive entryway with his arms folded crossed over his broad chest and a bitter disgust brewing in the depths of his gray eyes.

  Eyes that were an exact carbon copy of Luc’s and knew my greatest sin.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Luc

  I’d hated my father for years. But as I stood in the entryway of my childhood home and stared at the man, I knew the hatred I’d felt before was nothing compared to the vile revulsion churning inside me now.

  Not because of what he’d let the Grande Cavaliere do to me. Not even because he’d approved it. I could handle anything he did to me. I detested him because he’d made Natalie watch. And in that moment, as the rage snapped and swirled inside me, I knew I was going to kill him. I wasn’t sure when, I wasn’t sure how, but one day soon, my face would be the last thing he saw before the life faded from his eyes. And when it did, I wouldn’t feel a single thing except restitution.

  “I see you’ve finally returned,” my father sneered, as if I was nothing but a lowly peasant. “Scotland clearly wasn’t good to you.” He cast one lingering look at Natalie but didn’t acknowledge her as he turned. “Dinner’s waiting.”

  Fuck that. “We’re not staying for dinner. We’re only here to see Dante.”

  My father swiveled around and pinned me with an icy stare. “Dante? That stronzo hasn’t shown his cowardly face in weeks.”

  At my side, Natalie tensed, and her palm grew sweaty as she tried to pull me back, but I held my ground and narrowed my eyes on my father. “What do you mean? Dante isn’t here?”

  “Did that beating damage your ears? No, he’s not here. If he were here, I’d take a flogger to him myself.”

  My shoulders grew so tight, I was afraid my jacket might bust it’s seams. A rolling rage threatened to consume me. “Figlio di puttana Giovanni.” Grasping Natalie’s hand more tightly, I turned away from my father.

  “I don’t know what you’re muttering over there, and I’m not interested in finding out. We have business to discuss over dinner.” He turned for the dining room. “The rest of the family is waiting.”

  Two things hit me at once. Giovanni wasn’t the
one who’d come up with that lie. My father had. And he’d sent Giovanni to Scotland with that message because he’d know it was the only way to get me back.

  “Porca puttana,” I whispered, trying to control the fury inside me that was straining to break free.

  “Luc...” Natalie stepped in my way, preventing me from getting back to the door and escaping this fucked-up place. She lifted both hands to my chest. “Maybe we should stay.”

  “For what?”

  “Dinner.” She must have seen the horror in my eyes because she pushed against my chest, preventing me from getting by her. “It’s just dinner, Luc.”

  I couldn’t believe she’d want to be in the same room with these people, let alone have a meal with them.

  Before I could tug my hand from hers and say that, footsteps sounded at my back, followed by an excited voice I recognized well.

  My sister Ariana screamed, “Luc! Natalie!” And threw herself at both of us. In an instant, she was hugging us both and talking nonstop about how much she’d missed us.

  Natalie peered up at me as Ariana’s voice continued to fill the entryway, and in her soft blue eyes, I could hear what she was trying to tell me even without words.

  Ariana had no idea what my parents had done to either one of us. She was the only good person in this entire family, and if I stormed out now, she’d realize something bad had happened. At twenty-two, she was young and innocent, but just as stubborn and headstrong as Natalie. She’d dig until she found the truth, and then she wouldn’t just know the horrors of our House, she could possibly put herself in danger because she’d learned too much.

  I clenched my jaw until I was sure the bone might break. I didn’t want to stay. I didn’t want to have anything to do with my parents or Giovanni. But I couldn’t put Ariana at risk.

  Ariana finally released us and looked up at me. “You’re staying for dinner, aren’t you?“

  Natalie gazed up at me and mouthed the word Please.

  I pursued my lips into a frown as I met her gaze and said, “I guess so.”

  “Oh good!” Ariana literally jumped for joy. Grabbing my hand, she tugged me toward the dining room. “I want to hear all about your honeymoon in Scotland, I bet you had a blast.”

  I glanced back at Natalie, who followed us in her sleeveless red blouse, black slacks, and heels, clutching the sweater to her chest. She looked relieved I wasn’t making waves right off the bat, but there was something else in her eyes. A mixture of contempt and some hidden emotion I couldn’t read.

  I knew she was anxious and didn’t want to be here any more than I did, but that undefined emotion set me on edge.

  Because I suddenly had the strangest feeling she was keeping something from me. And somewhere in the back of my head, I was afraid whatever she was hiding was going to pale in comparison to what we’d already been through.

  Dinner was torture. Not thirteen-lashes-with-a-barbed-leather-flogger torture, but not a whole lot better.

  By the time the last course was swept away, I was ready to overturn the table and stab every single person—including my wife seated across from me—with a dinner knife.

  Natalie laughed at something my father said, then smiled and muttered “thank you” as Rosabel, the Salvatici family cook since I’d been a boy, set a cappuccino in front of her. As Rosabel headed back to the kitchen, Natalie looked at my mother at the end of the table and said, “Dinner was wonderful, Mrs. Salvatici.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” my mother answered with a lift of her chin as if she’d had any hand in preparing the meal. “When Giovanni informed us of your return, Ariana insisted we make it a feast.”

  “Well, it was perfect. Much better than the food we had in Scotland.” She lifted her cappuccino to her lips and glanced my way over the rim of the cup. “Wouldn’t you agree, Luc?”

  I narrowed my eyes on my wife, wondering just what in the hell she was doing. She’d been chipper and downright pleasant all evening, laughing at my father’s jokes, flattering my mother, even almost flirting with Giovanni. Even though Gio had brought a kitten I was sure he was playing with beneath the table, I’d seen the lusty looks he kept shooting Natalie’s way, and I wanted to pummel him for each one. But Natalie didn’t even seem to care—even knowing he’d drugged and planned to rape her in New York. Even knowing he’d probably murdered her friend.

  But that wasn’t even the kicker. The kicker was that my wife—who’d been in such emotional turmoil the last few weeks that she’d barely been able to eat—had devoured nearly everything on her plate. Every course. After weeks of watching the woman push food around like just the sight repulsed her, tonight I’d just witnessed her act as if nothing had happened.

  My mother, who had called Natalie a slut the last time I’d been in this house, scowled in disapproval when I didn’t answer my wife. Lifting her own cup without so much as a thank-you to Rosabel when she sat it in front of her, she said, “I see you’ve finally grown accustomed to how late Europeans dine as well.”

  “I have,” Natalie answered. “I’ve grown accustomed and accepting of many things I wasn’t before. I guess I just needed time to get used to it all.”

  “Hm.” My mother sipped her coffee with a satisfied smirk. Glancing toward my father at the far end of the table, she said, “It seems the honeymoon we sent them on was indeed a good decision.”

  Shock rippled through me. I stared at Natalie, but she showed absolutely no reaction to the bombshell my mother had just dropped, all but announcing to everyone at the table that raping and beating me in front of my wife had been a good idea.

  My father muttered, “So it seems.” Something else Natalie showed no reaction to.

  “You and Papa sent them to Scotland for their honeymoon?” Ariana asked at my side. “I didn’t realize that. How sweet!”

  Unable to handle this farce of a dinner one second more, I pushed back from the table. “I need some air.”

  Natalie’s gaze lifted to me, but her suddenly worried expression only made the disgust inside me churn faster.

  “You haven’t had your dessert yet, Luciano,” my mother said.

  “The one Rosabel made? Like the rest of the meal?”

  My mother’s lips flattened.

  Rising, I tossed my napkin on the table and glared at my wife. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “Luc,” Ariana called at my back as I headed out of the dining room. “Wai—“

  “Let him go,” my father snapped. “There’s no sense in letting him ruin yet another dinner. Natalie, tell us about Scotland.”

  I couldn’t breathe. Freeing another button on my shirt, I moved out onto the loggia and sucked in the cool night air. Down the dark hillside, lights twinkled in homes and the small villages scattered throughout the rolling countryside, but all I could see was Natalie in there schmoozing with my parents as if they were long lost friends, then her standing beside them on that balcony during that fucked-up ritual.

  I braced my hands against the stone balustrade and dropped my head, focusing on the breathing techniques Abigail had taught me to keep myself centered so I wouldn’t give in to the memories.

  Footsteps sounded at my back. My head came up. I was just about to turn, knowing it was Natalie coming to check on me, when I heard Gio’s slimy voice say, “My older brother married. Now there’s something I thought I’d never see.”

  Every muscle in my body grew tense and rigid. Slowly, I shifted around to face him. He was leaning back against a column on the loggia, his hands in the pockets of his slacks, his posture relaxed, but there was a fire in his light eyes I recognized well. One that told me he was just waiting for me to make the first move.

  I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “You’re supposed to be on assignment for Covet.”

  “My schedule changed. And you haven’t heard the news? You’re no longer in charge at Covet. Ilario Lorenzo’s been named CEO by Father. Guess Father figured you were too busy falling in love to execute your duties.” />
  I knew his words weren’t a lie. I’d yet to talk business with my father, but I knew Lorenzo had been gunning to head Covet for years, even before I’d been sent there. And I’d been gone a long time. But this meant all my hope of taking Natalie back to New York had just crashed and burned.

  My mood dropped even lower.

  “Gotta say, fratello.” Gio tugged one hand from his pockets and curled his fingers inward to study his nails. “She must have one hell of a magic cunt to get you to abandon all kinds of common sense.”

  My temper shot right to the brink of my control. I knew Gio was baiting me. I knew he was waiting for me to lunge so my father would be forced to intervene and undoubtedly punish me again, but all I wanted to do was slam my fist through his face.

  “That’s my wife you’re talking about. You’ll show her the respect she deserves.”

  A depraved smile curled his lips. “Oh, I remember well what she deserves.”

  My vision turned red. I didn’t even feel myself move. One second, I was across the loggia, and the next, I was in front of Gio, my hand at his throat, pinning him to the column at his back.

  “Do it,” he growled, his eyes widening and glinting with a sinister light. “You’ve wanted to be rid of me my whole life. Finish this once and for all. Or don’t you have the balls to go through with it? No, you don’t, do you? Because Luciano always has to be the fucking hero.”

  My hand tightened around his neck. I saw myself squeezing tighter, choking the life out of him. He deserved it after all the shit he’d done. The world would be a better place without him. But just as my fingers curled against his skin, I thought of Natalie. Of what my House would do to me if I gave in to the rage and killed my brother. How she’d be left all alone to fend for herself in a world she still didn’t understand.

  I released him even though all I wanted to do was finish him for good. “You’re not worth it.”

  Giovanni rolled his shoulders with a self-satisfied smirk. “You think you’re all high and mighty, but you’re not. The same blood flows in your veins as in mine, as in father’s. The same urges. The same needs. I’ve seen your tastes, Luciano. You might hide them from your pretty little wife in there, but we both know the truth. You gave in before. You’ll do so again. And do you know why?” He stepped close and dropped his voice to a poisonous whisper. “Because deep inside, you’re exactly like me.”

 

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