Deceived

by Elisabeth Naughton

  Scrubbing a hand over the three days of stubble on my chin, I said, “Just ask whatever you want to ask, Natalie.”

  She wrapped her hand around her mug, pulling it closer, and as she did, I spotted the slave tattoo on her finger, visible because she wasn’t wearing her wedding band. “I’m trying to figure this all out. You said Marco wouldn’t invite the Grande Cavalier here because of Felicity. What’s their story? Are they married? Because I didn’t see any rings. But she doesn’t act like a kitten.”

  “She’s not a kitten.” I told myself not to be disappointed she’d taken off her ring. She clearly didn’t want to be married to me. It made sense she’d remove the ring in private. But I hated the sight of that word. Wished like hell I’d picked something less vile. And I was scared to death she’d forget to put the ring back on before she left this villa and someone else saw the marking. Not because it would make me look like an ass—I didn’t give a shit about that. But because I was terrified of that word on her skin being reported back to the Thirteen and my father.

  “And they’re not married,” I forced myself to say instead of ordering her to put the damn ring back on as I wanted, “because Felicity’s father is the head of House Merrick in England, and—”

  “Wait. Felicity’s the one you told me about? The woman in England who educated you about your House and what they were really up to?”

  I nodded. “She’s also the one my father tried to set me up with. Neither of us was interested. Marco’s way more her type than me. And she and Marco are not married because her father won’t sanction their marriage while my father and the Grande Cavaliere are in control of House Salvatici.”

  Her gaze narrowed again. “I don’t understand.”

  I knew she didn’t. I also knew she’d never truly understand because I wasn’t about to tell her what the Grande Cavaliere was capable of.

  “Her father doesn’t want her under our House’s rule,” I said, trying to keep it simple. “All five Houses are still very patriarchal. As soon as she marries into House Salvatici, she’s bound to follow our rules. Her father won’t allow that to happen while my father is in command.”

  She considered that for a moment. “You said Dante went after your father because Maricella is missing. Why would he blame your father for that?”

  Thankful we were off the topic of the Grande Cavaliere, I sighed. “Because my father probably is responsible.” I drained the rest of my cold coffee. “After you and I left Tuscany, Dante moved to Rome with Maricella without my father’s approval. That’s a big-time no-no.”

  “So your father did something to Maricella? I don’t get it. Why?”

  Of course she didn’t get it. She could never understand the twisted way my House worked. Most of the time, I didn’t understand it, but I’d learned long ago not to question the rules. That’s how people died. “If he did, it was to punish Dante.”

  “Do you think he did?”

  I eased back in my chair and stared at my empty cup on the scarred wooden table. “I don’t know. It’s possible. My father is all about preserving the old rules.” I lifted my gaze to hers, knowing I wouldn’t hide this truth from her. “He went after you when you fled the villa. I know the things he’s capable of, and, technically, like it or not, Maricella is a kitten. To my father and the other Knights, that means she’s subhuman.”

  A sick look passed over Natalie’s face, but she didn’t break eye contact with me. “Dante doesn’t think so.”

  “No.” Once again, I was amazed at this woman’s ability to read people. She’d spent only one dinner and one long afternoon with my brother and his kitten, and she’d easily seen a truth it had taken me and my House much longer to see. “I’ll know more once I talk to him. Hopefully then, I’ll have a better idea how I can help him.”

  “The only way you’re going to help him is to find her.”

  I had a sinking feeling she was right. I looked down at my hand on the table. “I’ll talk to Marco about that on our way to see my father.”

  She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “When will you go?”

  I sighed and glanced toward the clock above the stove. “As soon as I shower and change. I told Marco I’d be up to the villa after we had breakfast.”

  She nodded and looked down at my coffee mug. “And you think you can talk your father into letting Dante go?”

  I pushed to my feet and took my empty mug into the kitchen, my brain already skipping ahead to how the hell I was going to do exactly that. “I have to try. Regardless of his faults, he’s my brother. And unlike Giovanni, he’s not a lost cause. He’s still got a heart buried somewhere inside him. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t give a shit what happened to Maricella.”

  “And then what?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, setting my cup in the dishwasher.

  “After you convince your father to release Dante, then what happens?”

  It was the one question I hadn’t anticipated, and it rattled me. More than I liked. I turned toward her and leaned back against the sink, feeling helpless in a way that crippled me. “I don’t know.”

  “Will we stay here? Will we go back to the South Pacific? I’m in this now too, Luc, regardless of what either of us wants.”

  I knew she was. Just as I knew “we” wasn’t a word she particularly liked right now.

  “Then,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, “I’ll find a way to convince my father to let us leave. I’m confident he’ll agree. As long as I play the game and keep showing my face at events like the heir I’m supposed to be, we’ll be fine.”

  “But you’ll still be part of all this. This House and these rituals and the illegal activities they promote.”

  I didn’t answer. There was no reason to answer. We both knew what I would say.

  Fuck, I hated what I’d dragged her into. And I hated that empty look in her pretty blue eyes. The same one I’d seen on my island. The same one that cut me to the quick and made me feel like a half a man.

  “Look,” I said, hoping to lift her spirits, even just a little. “If we’re lucky, he’ll let me go back to my job at Covet in New York. All the other shit... Away from this damn country, it’s not as bad as it seems.”

  “Except for the part where you go back to being CEO of a fashion magazine that’s primary purpose is recruiting unsuspecting young girls into your House’s beta program.”

  Yeah, except for that.

  My jaw tightened as I stared at her.

  Fuck me, I hated my life.

  “I’ll find a way to make it work,” I said, meaning every single word.

  “How? You hate that place. We both know it.”

  I did hate it, but I could survive it. I could survive anything for her.

  “It’s not fair you have to sacrifice yourself for your stupid House.”

  My heart pinched because I wanted to read way more into that one comment than she intended.

  I quickly pushed away from the sink, knowing if I didn’t get away from her soon, I was going to give in to every one of my urges and show her with my hands and lips and body just how much I wanted to read into that comment. Something I knew wouldn’t go over well considering the current status of our strained relationship. Something I knew would only gut me even more in the long run.

  “I learned long ago not to want things, because every time I did, my world turned to shit. This time I’m determined not to let that happen.”

  I moved past her for the living room, locking down the guilt and pain I felt anytime I was around her, knowing it would only hinder me where I was heading next. “Please put your ring on before you leave this villa. I trust Marco and Fee, but I don’t trust their staff. There are eyes everywhere. It’s safer for all of us if everyone you encounter thinks you actually want to be my wife.”

  She didn’t answer. I didn’t expect her to. But in her silence, I had a sinking feeling I was fighting a losing battle, and that before long, there’d be nothing left for me to do to keep my w
orld from turning to complete shit once and for all.

  My insides were a knot of twisting, liquid fire I was afraid might burn a hole through my belly. Or at the very least give me a giant fucking ulcer.

  “You sure about this?” Marco asked at my side as we moved up the front steps of my parents’ country estate.

  Happy I’d nixed the tie and left my dress shirt unbuttoned so it couldn’t strangle me, I tugged at my sleeve, wishing I’d gone for one with buttons instead of these irritating cufflinks that kept getting caught in my jacket. “No. But the sooner we get this done, the easier it’ll be to breathe.” I glanced sideways at my friend, dressed in a very similar designer white dress shirt, black slacks and jacket. “At least for you.”

  Marco grinned, flashing white teeth that contrasted with the dark stubble on his jaw, and slapped a hand against my shoulder. “I will try to breathe for both of us, fratello. And if only one of us leaves here breathing, I vow to take good care of la tua bellissima moglie.”

  “You lay one hand on my pretty wife and Felicity will castrate you with a dull knife.”

  Marco laughed, the sound—for a moment—relaxing me. “That she would. And I fear she’d enjoy every moment of it. Ah, aren’t we lucky? Two stronzi who, despite our flaws, somehow managed to find the most incredible women to love us.”

  Yeah, we were lucky. Or, I had been. For a few days, at least.

  Tension churned in my gut as I came to a stop on the top step and looked at the arched iron door. I willed thoughts of Natalie out of my head, knowing they’d do me no good here. Drawing one last breath of free air, I pushed the button and waited while the bells chimed inside the ancient castle, announcing our arrival.

  Seconds later, one side of the massive double doors flung open, and my sister Ariana threw her arms around my neck, her long dark hair with that one strip of white near the front swaying behind her.

  “Luc!” She gripped me in a fierce hug. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

  I captured her before she could knock us both off our feet, thankful she was her normal boisterous self and not in any way damaged by what had happened with Dante. “Me too.”

  She let go of my shoulders and dropped to her heels. With one quick smile at Marco, she glanced past me with her dark eyes. “Where is she?”

  I knew who Ariana was looking for, just as I knew I wouldn’t tell her. “Not here.” I looked over her into the foyer of the house. “Are Mamma and Papá home?”

  “Yes, they’re—”

  “Luciano?” My mother’s terse voice echoed through the entryway in time with the click of her heels. Moments later, she appeared at my sister’s back with nothing but disappointment in her light blue eyes. “Come in or leave, but do not stand there with the door open. You’re letting all the cool air out.”

  I clenched my jaw to keep from turning around as I wanted to do, and moved into the foyer. “Mamma.” I air kissed her cheeks, but I didn’t make contact, and I didn’t show any affection. She knew why. She showed me just as little in return. “I’ve come to see Papá.”

  Ariana moved up on my side. “He’s in the—”

  “Ariana,” my mother snapped. “You have schoolwork that needs to be finished.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No buts. Get upstairs now.”

  My sister’s shoulders slumped. She looked up at me with worried dark eyes. “You’re not leaving Italy right away, are you?”

  “No.”

  Relief passed over her features. “Good. Because if you leave without saying goodbye again, I’m going to disown you forever.”

  She pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, then stepped around me and moved for the stairs. Not wanting to get her in trouble, I watched her move up the steps, then glanced at my mother watching Ariana with a perturbed expression on her cultured face.

  When Ariana was out of earshot, I said, “She’s twenty-two years old. At some point, you’re going to have to stop treating her like a child.”

  “How I treat my daughter is my business and none of yours.” Her spine stiffened. “Now, I’m assuming you’re here to apologize to your father.”

  Fat chance in hell. “I’m here to see Dante.”

  My mother’s jaw tightened beneath her expensive makeup. “Dante is being punished.”

  Yeah, no fucking kidding. But it burned my nerve endings hearing her just toss it out there as if it were no big deal.

  “It’s my right to see my brother.”

  “That you will have to take up with the Grand Duke. He has final say in everything concerning Dante’s insubordination.”

  My mother sounded like she was fucking brainwashed, but then why should that surprise me? She’d been brainwashed by my father and the sick men in my family since long before I was even born.

  I fought to keep my temper in check. “Where is he?”

  “In his office at the winery.”

  I wanted to shake the woman. She could have told me that five fucking minutes ago and saved us both this farce of a conversation. I turned for the door.

  “Luciano,” she said, stopping me.

  When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw what I’d missed earlier. That wasn’t disappointment in her eyes. It was disgust.

  “You will not disgrace this house by bringing that American whore back here again. I will not permit it.”

  I’d never wanted to strangle another person as much as I did right now. “Don’t worry, this is the last place she ever wants to visit again. And she’s not a whore, she’s my wife.” My mother’s eyes grew wide and dropped to my left hand and the ring she’d missed earlier. “Accept it or not,” I said as I jerked the front door open. “I don’t really give a shit what you do.”

  I moved down the front steps and slid into the passenger seat of Marco’s Mercedes. He joined me seconds later and started the ignition. As we pulled away from the house and turned onto a road that led around the house and down to the vineyard, I knew my mother was watching us from the front stoop.

  “Man, you sure know how to make an entrance,” Marco muttered.

  Resting my elbow on the windowsill, I rubbed my already aching forehead. “Guarantee she’s on the phone right now, alerting my father we’re on our way.”

  We rounded the corner and headed toward the large stone building that housed the winery. As we drew close, three of my father’s bodyguards, each wearing black suits and sunglasses, moved out of the shadows and took up a triangular position in front of the door, blocking our entrance.

  “Guarantee he already knows,” Marco answered, pulling to a stop and killing the ignition.

  Fuck me. So much for the element of surprise.

  I climbed out of the vehicle and buttoned my jacket as I moved toward the three brutes who were each as big as houses. I’d learned long ago not to show fear no matter the circumstance. My House might be able to dictate my life from the shadows, but my father would never make me cower. And I would never again beg for anything from these men.

  I stopped in front of them and met their icy stares with one of my own. Tension crackled in the air, then slowly, they each stepped back, leaving a path to the arched wood door. I headed into the winery with Marco at my back.

  The small lobby area was empty. Since visitors only ventured onto the Salvatici Winery by invitation, there was no secretary or personnel manning the building and the small tasting counter to my left. I bypassed the warehouse access where the grapes were pressed and fermented, avoided the bottling area, and headed for the curved staircase that led to the main offices on the second level.

  My father was exactly where I expected him to be when I pushed one side of his double office doors open without knocking—seated in the big leather chair behind his desk, gazing out the wide arched windows and over the vineyard like the king perched on the top of his fucking throne.

  I stepped into the room, leaving the door open for Marco. Then I cleared my throat and waited, knowing it would be enough to piss the old man off.

&nb
sp; “I wondered when you would arrive.” My father continued to stare out at the view as if I weren’t even there. “I expected you here at least twenty-four hours ago. That slut you’ve taken up with comes before family now? That is unacceptable, Luciano.”

  We were going to do this first? Fucking fantastic.

  I’d wanted to strangle my mother mere minutes ago, but that rage didn’t even come close to how much I wanted to choke the life out of my father. “She is family. She’s my wife.” I pulled the document I’d brought with me from my breast pocket, crossed the floor, and slapped it on my father’s desk. He swiveled toward me with shocked eyes. “And call her slut again, and I promise it’ll be the last word you utter.”

  His jaw turned to ice beneath his tanned skin, and his infuriated gaze dropped to the paper beneath my hand.

  I released the paper so he could read it. “It’s legal. Signed by the Archbishop in Panama. That copy’s for you since I know you don’t believe me. You can look it up. The paperwork’s all been filed and approved.”

  My father snatched the paper from the table and lurched to his feet. “This marriage is an abomination and unsanctioned.” He rounded the desk in a flurry of movement. “Where is she? I demand to see her at once.”

  My spine stiffened, but I slid my hands into my pockets, relaxing from the shoulders down because my father’s enraged reaction told me what I’d done had been the right decision. Natalie was safe, and I was in control. “You don’t get to demand anything when it comes to my wife. And I’m not here to discuss her. I’m here to discuss Dante.”

  My father stopped in front of me with my marriage document crumpled in his fist, his muscles a mass of straining fury. We were roughly the same height, but my father was broader across the shoulders and chest and had me by at least thirty pounds. I was younger and stronger, though, and knew if he came at me, I could hold my own and inflict plenty of my own damage. It wouldn’t be pretty, but I’d stopped being afraid of him when I was twenty, and he knew it. Which only enraged him more.