“Hey, you good?” Violet asks as we pass each other outside the breakfast room.
I flash a smile, my body heating at her stopping me. I can’t allow anyone to find out what I’m up to. Everyone’s always distracted after breakfast, so I thought it’d be the perfect time. Violet shouldn’t have been down here right now. We ate thirty minutes ago. Salvatore was busy feeding Rosa, so I thought it was the perfect time to dip out of there for a bit. I heard everyone discuss what they were doing after they ate; I paid special attention to make sure no one would see me. “Yeah, I’m fine. Forgot to grab a new bottle of water for Rosa’s formula.”
“Oh you should’ve called down. Margo would’ve brought you some.”
I shrug, my smile planted on my lips out of pure panic. “I really don’t like bothering the staff if I don’t have to. Probably because I am the staff.”
Her brow furrows. “You are not. You’re one of us, a Vendetti. No one has treated you like the staff, have they?” She’s so serious, it has me wracking my brain, even though I was merely attempting to make up an excuse on the fly.
“No. That’s not what I meant. Um, I used to being the staff. It’s kind of weird still.” Ah, I’m babbling! I’m typically very calm. My personality has always been that way. Right now, however, I’m scrambling. This is exactly why I never break the law. I don’t like feeling this way. Is going against my husband and his family breaking the law? It shouldn’t be, yet it feels that way unfortunately.
“I can understand that, but you need to embrace your new position. Salvatore may not be the caporegime, but he is still respected. He’s still the second.”
I clear my throat, lost with whatever she’s saying. I need to be in that basement if I want to have enough time to get Fiadh out of here and my family back to safety. There’s something extremely unsafe about that woman. I haven’t been able to shake it since I faced her in the gardens. “I love Salvatore,” I share with a whisper, and Violet beams.
“That makes me so happy. He needs love and acceptance more than anything in his life.”
I nod, my jerky moves rushed. “I have to get the water. I’m not trying to be rude. It’s just the baby—”
“Oh, no! Of course, go, go! Sorry about that. I get caught up in happiness for the brothers finding their true love.”
I offer a shaky smile, feeling like a total fraud at the moment. I truly do love Salvatore, but they may argue that me freeing their captive proves otherwise. Violet strides in the direction of Matteo’s office, and I hightail it in the opposite direction. Rather than going into the kitchen, I bypass it for the steps leading to the basement.
Part of me believes it’s too soon for me to fall for Salvatore. Love takes time, right? I know my parents married young, but I never thought to ask how long they were together before they realized they were in love.
With Sal, it’s as if I never stood a chance from the moment I showed up. I was inexplicably drawn to him. You read about it happening, but you never realize it’s an actual thing until you experience it yourself. Being around a man who has a pull on you is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s like you can try to ignore it, or fight it even, but it doesn’t ever stop. You enter a proximity with them and you can feel their presence. Not by them stretching out a finger to touch you, but their pheromones or essence…something about them reaches out and consumes your being.
I can pretend my husband means nothing to me, back off and deny it. I’d only be lying to myself and him as well. I’d be denying the inevitable when it comes to that confusingly stubborn man. Maybe in other cases, I’d attempt to settle on some self-preservation, but with Rosa, she changes everything in my mind. I’ve always known that I want children. It was getting to the point I didn’t know when that would happen, if ever. My father told me to be patient and enjoy college, but I could read it in his eyes, he was wondering the same thing as me.
Marrying Salvatore opened all the doors I wanted. I am cemented to a man who manages to drive my mind and body wild with fantasies about his touch. I had a daughter immediately, by blood or not. She’s mine for as long as she’ll have me. I knew that signing the contract Matteo had presented me with, I was expected to attempt to get pregnant immediately to prolong the Vendetti line. I got everything I wanted. Not only that, but I was also brought into the most powerful mafia family on the East Coast, with wealth and unlimited possibilities at my fingertips within Matteo’s approval.
Sal wondered why I was fighting to marry him. Why I didn’t stutter when I discovered his brothers had to fuck me…I was given everything I ever wanted. He had no idea though, so he couldn’t see it. Maybe one day I’ll explain my reasoning to him. Not yet, but once we’ve had time to build a marriage together.
If they don’t find out I’ve freed the captive and kill me, that is. Sweat dots the back of my neck as I peak my head in a few doors. Eventually, I come to the right room, my stomach twisting with dread as I take in the bloody mess before me.
“Oh God,” I breathe the words as a broken prayer. I pray Salvatore can be forgiven for his sins when it comes time for us all to meet the Almighty. I make the sign of the cross, silently slipping into the room and closing the door behind me.
My eyes shoot to the ceiling, freaking out inside that I never considered there’d be cameras set up to watch her. Shockingly enough, there aren’t any that I can find. The room is set up strangely, with crimson-colored walls. It’s a real deal torture chamber, I suppose, with the sterile-looking metal table set up off to the far wall. It’s littered with various weapons and objects used for making their captive hurt. Some items I’ve never seen before and have no idea what they’d be called or used for. It’s frightening, to say the least, and their presence brings on the shakes. My hands and lower lip trembles, knowing that this could be my possible fate should I be discovered helping an enemy escape and survive.
“Mm.” Her head shifts to the opposite side as a painful groan slips from her.
“Shh,” I shush her quietly, jogging to her. It’s not like she can hurt me right now—she’s tied up, hanging from the ceiling. I thought I could help her get free, but part of me doubts she’ll be able to stand, let alone walk out of here. “Shit,” I cuss to myself.
My voice garners Fiadh’s attention, and one of her eyelids part. She takes me in, standing directly before her. Eventually, she works her other eye open to stare me down. She says nothing, and I hate to admit it, but her silence is intimidating. Perhaps it’s the fact that I know she’s dangerous now, but this situation is altogether creepy. “I’m Annabella Vendetti,” I say. I don’t know why in the heck I tell her my name. The less she knows about me and our family, the better.
“I know,” she croaks. “I know who all of you are,” she admits, catching me off guard.
I gesture to her thigh that’s been split open and bleeding, as well as the underside of her arm with slashes into it. Shit, that has to hurt badly. “I’m going to try to wrap something around those. They’re still bleeding slowly.”
“Must be why I passed out. I’m a bit off my rocker at the moment,” she whispers, her lilt gravelly. It sounds as if she hasn’t had a drink in days. I don’t know how true that is, but taking her appearance in, I wouldn’t doubt it being the truth.
I don’t know what she means exactly, but I get the gist of it. She’s not feeling like herself, I assume. “It’s okay. I’m here to help. We need to be quiet to listen for them.” I press my finger to my lips, and she stops her struggle to speak.
I manage to find a woman’s long coat. I’m assuming it was hers as I can’t remember what she was wearing when I saw her before. The material’s ridiculously soft, so I’m not sure it’ll stay on her cuts well, but it’s worth a shot. At least it won’t scratch her and hurt her further. I rush to the shiny table, scanning over everything once more, this time for something I can use. So much of it is covered in blood that I gag at the thought of what these tools have been previously used for. I find some
wire snips and try them. They make a small cut, but the fabric quality is too good that I can’t just rip a piece off.
I reach for a filet knife next. It’s bloody and touching it has me tearing up. I’m not weak. I did hold a gun in Fiadh’s face, after all. It’s the torture aspect that has me upset. I know Salvatore isn’t a good man, but I don’t want to imagine his skillful hands being used to bring so much pain to another. The knife is ridiculously sharp and slices through the material so easily I’m afraid I’ll accidently catch one of my fingers in the process. I cut off four strips and set the knife back in its place.
“Fiadh, this may hurt, but I need to wrap your wounds. Try not to make any noise. I’m sorry if it hurts you, okay?”
She sighs and jerks her head. I watch her close her eyes, taking measured breaths, and move to wrap her thigh. It’s disgusting and needs to be sewn up, but that’s above the time limit I have. We still have to make it through the house undetected, and she’s gotta get past the trained security team outside. I really should’ve thought this over more before acting so irrationally. If we get caught upstairs, I’ll have to think of something. I guess I could say that I found her on accident and thought she was bleeding to death so I brought her for help. They’ll be furious with me, but hopefully I won’t see any of those torture tools pointed in my direction if I play innocent in it all.
I move to wrap her arm, gagging when her skin gapes and I catch a flash of the meat underneath. Fiadh is strong. If this were done to me, I would’ve passed out then sobbed until I choked to death on my own sorrow. “Almost done,” I mention as I tie the fabric in place and reach for her hands. This is more difficult as I’m not nearly as tall as the giant Vendetti men.
I head back to the table and grab the stool, as well as a small boxcutter I see buried under a large metal spikey thing. The only other furniture in here is a large L-shaped coach. I find it extremely gruesome and disturbing to want to sit on a coach and watch someone being tortured. The mafioso men have been far too conditioned into thinking this is okay. This room is not normal by any means. I climb on the stool, careful not to slice myself in the process. Once I get my balance, I saw at the rope looped onto a giant metal hook hanging from the ceiling. It’s attached to a thick cord that runs up to a steal beam shooting across the ceiling. It’s even more disturbing knowing this room was built to accommodate these sorts of activities.
Fiadh falls to the floor into a heap. “Mmph!” she grunts from the impact, resting her forehead on the stained concrete ground. She’s hurting badly, but there’s nothing I can do. I should’ve grabbed some Motrin before I left our suite, but I wasn’t thinking she’d be in such rough shape.
“Can you stand?” I ask on a rushed whisper. “I’m going to wrap your wrists now. Don’t freak out when I touch you again.” I would definitely be flipping if someone were attempting to touch me, even if they were helping. I take one wrist in my hands, covering the fabric around it, briefly massaging her hands and the skin around her wrist before moving to do the same to the other. “I know you hurt, but we have to hurry.”
She lifts her head, meeting my gaze. Tears crest, but she doesn’t allow them to fall. My lip trembles again at the sight. I shake my head no. “D-don’t. You don’t have time to break right now. If you want to get out of this, you’ll gather every bit of strength left. You’ll let me help you, you’ll lean on me as much as you need to, and I’ll get you to the back door. Then you have to be even stronger because I can’t go any farther. If they catch you, they’ll hurt you worse.”
Scratchily she replies, “They’ll kill me. Chop me up and send me in pieces. Already threatened my arse.”
“That’s not happening while I have any say in the matter. Come on, grab those lady balls you had earlier, and let’s move.” I squat in front of her. “I’m reaching under your arms, on your sides. I don’t want to pull on your arms. They’re probably messed up already from hanging up there. Don’t scream, and don’t hate me.” Leaning forward, I slide my hands under her chest and move them near her ribs. I palm her sides, trying not to squeeze or push too harshly as I stand with her wrapped in a careful hug. Her legs attempt to give out, and we struggle a bit before she gets enough blood flow going to somewhat stand.
“Feck, this’ll be a struggle,” she gasps, and squints as a new rush of pain comes with her movements.
“You can do this. We don’t have a choice. Life or death, remember?”
“All right, I can do this. Be a proper accomplice and get a move on.”
I snort but shuffle our bodies forward. The trek through the shadows of the mansion feels as if it takes us forever. I thought for sure we were going to get caught on more than one occasion. I even heard Salvatore at one point asking Margo if she’d seen me. I’ve obviously been down here for too long if he’s already fed Rosa and has had a chance for someone to go up to her room. I’m not letting myself think of anything else but getting this woman to the back door. If I don’t concentrate, I’ll never be able to get through this without faltering.
We hobble a bit more as my thoughts creep back in. I’m fairly sure I’m going against my wedding vows I made to Sal somehow. They didn’t exactly say ‘not to help the family’s captives,’ but I have a feeling it was implied in the covet and obey portion. Lord knows he’d be ordering me to stop if he saw me now. He’s fairly easygoing when it comes to me, at least in my opinion he is.
He was a jerk before we married, but once it was time for the tradition, it was like a switch flipped with him. He’s been kind, caring, and attentive with me. I knew he had a good heart in him, but I didn’t think he’d be such a decent husband to me already. I’m the one who had the choice to marry; he didn’t, so I can’t blame him for being miserable over it in the beginning.
“You okay.” I’m drawn out of my thoughts when Fiadh gently pats my cheek and checks on me. We’ve been standing by the door, waiting on the security guys to move in the opposite direction.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I was thinking this probably goes against my marriage vows in some way.”
She manages to grin. Her face has dried blood on it, and some flakes off with her moving her mouth. “Yeah, you’re a rebel.”
I smile in return, shaking my head. Rebel isn’t the word I was thinking of, but it helps lighten the situation momentarily. “Look, they’re finally turning the other way.”
“Christ, I thought the fecking dossers were never leaving. It’s about time they get their lazy arses out of here. I need to rest.”
I roll my eyes to myself. They were literally doing their job. It just isn’t convenient to us at the moment. “Head for those bushes, then the cameras won’t pick you up.” I point to the left, thinking over where I saw the many cameras pointed. They were hard to see at first, but after spending a lot of time taking Rosa for strolls outside, I started to notice them all. “Are you going to be able to walk on your own?”
“I better. Not much of a choice otherwise.” She huffs then says softly, “You’ve helped me get the blood flowing and bend my limbs a bit. You’re a fierce one.”
She says it fondly, so I’m taking it as a compliment and not as in her meaning that I’m a slave driver about getting her moving and out of here. I hold up the top half of her long coat. I’d cut up the bottom half for the strips. “I can’t give you anything else. You’ll freeze if you attempt to stop. Try to get your arms in here and button it up. You’ve got to keep going, even if you’re hurting. You probably want sleep, but you can’t.”
She nods and holds her arm back with a wince. I slide the jacket arms over hers as carefully as possible and button the front for her. She doesn’t protest, which I imagine is difficult. I doubt she would normally allow anyone to help her this much, but it’s necessary. She’s too injured and she needs to save any energy she has to make it out of here alive.
I reach for the door. “We’ve waited as long as we can. It’s now or never. They’ll find us any minute if I don’t head back.” I press my thumb to the
scanner next to the back door, allowing her to watch me. I want it as clear as possible that she can’t just waltz in here whenever she wants to. There’s no getting in and out unless you’re a Vendetti or are a select few with a special code. I pull the door open enough for her to slip through.
She steps outside, but pauses, eyes meeting my gaze. I’m expecting her to thank me, or maybe even say we could’ve been friends in another life, but that doesn’t happen. She stands to her full height, her pain seemingly disappearing before my very eyes as she lifts her hands to secure her long reddish hair into a ponytail. She twists the locks and uses one of her wrist wraps to tie it in place. Her green irises sparkle as her lips tug into a determined snarl. She tilts her head from side to side, her neck making a popping sound as she cracks it.
“Tell your husband I will kill them all for this. But…not you or your baby. I owe you for helping me. I will make sure you’re not harmed, but the rest of them will suffer. Thank you, Annabella Vendetti. You have a friend in the Irish.” She takes off right after her words spill from her lips, leaving me gawking in her wake. She was barely moving the entire trek, then she just flipped a switch as if she made half her pain disappear.
I want to argue with her. The desire to plead with her over Salvatore’s safety gnaws at me, as does the sensation of calling my husband to grab her again before she has the chance to escape and bring harm to the Vendettis and the other men of the Empire. I do nothing. I stand and watch her hobble away, escaping into the brush to face who knows what. She’s threatened my extended family, and I’ve done nothing about it. I should’ve killed her. I should’ve stopped her. I’m nothing but a coward, and now they will all pay because of my weakness. Foolishly, I believed I knew better, that getting her out of the estate would keep us all safer.
Fiadh may not kill me, but I will die because of this. I don’t have to worry about enemies coming for me in the night. My husband will kill me before anyone else has a chance.
The Vendetti Coward: Salvatore Vendetti (The Vendetti Famiglia Book 4) Page 16