“If my brothers don’t get a text from me every five minutes to let them know it’s all going to plan, then they’ll have to start taking pieces from your principessa,” I warned. “So you might wanna give me back my phone.”
Royce’s upper lip curled back as he shoved my cellphone into my hand and I smiled brightly like we were old buddies and he’d just done me a solid.
I couldn’t say he liked that much but fuck it, it seemed like that only made me want to do it more.
The goons led me on into another corridor before finally opening the doors to a huge lounge where Giuseppe and his closest men all stood waiting for me, arms folded, eyes narrowed and a wish for violence dancing in the air.
“What is this insult?” Guiseppe growled, looking me over like he’d been expecting someone else. “Why have I got you when I should be speaking to the man in charge?”
“Papa had an appointment at the optometrists,” I said innocently. “He’s concerned that he might need reading glasses. You know how pressing these things can be.”
Nicoli suddenly lunged forward, pointing a finger at me and near spitting with rage. “If you disrespect the leader of my family again, I’ll cut you in two,” he threatened.
I raised an eyebrow at him before looking away as if he hadn’t spoken at all. He wouldn’t touch me. Wouldn’t fucking dare. Not while I held their precious Sloan.
“I do believe we have come into possession of something that belongs to you,” I said slowly, my words for Giuseppe as I ignored every other person in the room.
“What do you want for her?” he asked, cutting to the chase. Man after my own heart.
“For now, we’re gonna start off with you backing out of Romero Territory. And you’re gonna keep your noses out of Romero business too. So that means we don’t wanna see any of your people dogging our streets or lurking in our bars. We want some hassle free, lucrative time to focus on our businesses without Calabresi interference.”
“That’s it?” Giuseppe growled.
“For now,” I reiterated, giving him a taunting smile. “When you prove you can follow simple instructions, we’ll be back with a few more.”
“When I have my wife back in my arms, I’m going to hunt you down and gut you like a pig,” Nicoli snarled.
“Wrong,” I replied, turning my gaze on him as my smile widened. “She’s not your wife. You never said I do.” I pulled her engagement ring from my little finger and tossed it at him. “And she said you can have that back. Seeing as you already failed at the whole to honour and protect part of your vows before you’d even spoken them.”
Nicoli looked about ready to leap on me, but at a flick of Giuseppe’s hand he controlled himself.
“How do I know she’s even still alive?” Giuseppe growled.
“I can send you daily photos,” I said easily, already aware he’d demand that. “Just pop your number in my cell and you’ll get the first one tonight. So long as you keep up your end of our arrangement, she’ll be just fine.”
I painted a cross over my heart innocently as I held my cellphone out towards him.
He snatched it from my grasp, cursing in Italian as he keyed in his number.
“We won’t pull away from Romero Territory until we receive that confirmation,” Giuseppe warned.
“Then I’d better get back to my sweet Sloan and get you that photo.”
I offered the room at large one, final shit-eating grin then turned and strode out.
The Calabresis parted for me like the tide, letting me stroll right out of their stronghold as if I owned the fucking place.
And fuck it. That might just have been the best feeling in the entire world.
I woke from a dream that guided me along little Italian streets and past familiar faces to a dark reality which cut into my soul. I sat upright sharply and the cuff knocked against the wood as I reached the end of my tether.
A pillow sat where my hand had been and I frowned as I realised Rocco must have moved the cuff further down the headboard. Probably so he could save himself the bother of amputating my hand when it died from lack of blood.
My gaze swung to the empty space beside me with a flood of relief. It was short-lived as the need to pee grabbed onto me and I stared longingly toward the en-suite on the other side of the room. I was torn between stubbornly wetting the bed and calling out for help. But I didn’t like the idea of Rocco finding me here in a puddle of shame.
“Hello!” I called, hoping the kinder-faced one, Frankie, might appear. Footsteps pounded toward the door and I set my jaw as I prepared for the worst. Rocco.
The door swung open and Enzo stepped into the room, his muscular frame almost filling the doorway. My throat thickened as he rubbed the back of his head as if in memory of me hitting him there with a wine bottle.
“Good morning, little shrew. Or should I say afternoon as you’ve slept half the day away?”
I pressed my lips together, my heart thrashing as he sauntered his way toward me.
“Quiet today,” he mused. “Has Rocco finally broken your spirit? Or is your throat just sore after a night of happily sucking his cock?”
“As if I’d ever touch that creep,” I spat.
“Ah, she speaks.” He smirked, his dark eyes making me squirm. I noted the hunting knife strapped to his hip and my breathing quickened.
“I need the bathroom,” I said, lifting my chin high, determined to hold his gaze.
Enzo was as beautiful as his brother, but in a rougher way. His hair was wild, his eyes raw and full of cruel thoughts that he didn’t try to hide. He was infamous for being unpredictable and the crimes his name was attached to made my skin crawl.
Enzo reached into his pocket, taking out a key without a word. He moved forward, unlocking the handcuffs and I immediately pulled my arm free. He was leaning over me, close enough for his hip to press against my leg – and the hilt of his knife. My fingers itched for it and I shifted my arm so my hand grazed the strap.
In a flash of movement, I went for it, my hand locking around the hilt and a surge of adrenaline rushing into my veins.
Enzo snatched my wrist as I drew the huge knife free and he smiled manically. “What now, little shrew? Will you kill me?” He lifted the knife, in full control of it as his fingers clutched mine so hard that I winced. He held the tip of the blade to his own throat and my eyes widened.
A dare filled his gaze and I shoved the hilt with a growl of fury. He jerked backwards with a wild laugh, taking the blade with him. “You really would do it, wouldn’t you? I like your spark. But be careful, sparks cause fires.”
“Why would I be careful? Maybe if I’m lucky, this whole place will burn,” I hissed and his brows arched.
He gestured to the bathroom with the knife and his cold eyes followed me as I slid off the bed and headed into it. The second I closed the door, it flew open again and I stumbled back as Enzo rested his shoulder against the doorway.
“You’ll go with the door open or not at all.” He turned his back on me, but remained standing there and I didn’t know whether to be relieved that he wasn’t going to watch me or furious that he was giving me almost no privacy.
I pulled my pyjama bottoms down in defeat and dropped onto the toilet, tugging my top over my thighs in case he decided to look.
I shut my eyes in concentration, cursing his name as heat rushed up my spine and made it impossible to pee.
“Just move away from the door!” I snapped in frustration.
Enzo chuckled, but walked away all the same and a breath of relief escaped me.
I finally peed and moved to wash my hands. I blinked as I realised my engagement ring was missing. No doubt Rocco had peeled it off my finger either to taunt me or to send to my father. But little did he know, it actually felt good to be rid of it. Wearing that ring meant my promise to marry Nicoli was still intact, but without it I felt like one of my chains had been broken.
Enzo reappeared with a pile of clothes in his grip. “Get dressed.
” He tossed a pair of jeans, underwear and a white tank top at my feet and headed away again.
I soon had them on and stepped back into the bedroom, finding Enzo waiting by the door with the handcuffs in his grip. “Wrists together,” he commanded and I clenched my teeth.
“Is that really necessary?”
“Unless you want to lose a few fingers, it is.” He gave me a demonic grin and my heart lurched in warning. I held my wrists out and he locked the cuffs in place, keeping hold of them and pulling me out of the room.
He guided me downstairs and the scent of something burning filled my nose. As we stepped into the kitchen, Frankie appeared striding across the room and planting a fiery pan of something that looked like tar into the sink. He turned the tap on with a curse and smoke and steam coiled into the air.
“Please tell me that’s not lunch,” I said and Frankie whipped around, looking dishevelled.
“It was,” he said in frustration, cursing under his breath in Italian.
Enzo dragged me to the island and planted me down on a stool. He strode toward the refrigerator, taking out a tub of butter then moving over to a loaf of bread on the counter. “We’ll just have sandwiches again,” he grumbled, taking out his hunting knife and proceeding to butter a slice with it. What the hell?
Frankie fetched a spoon and started scraping the remains of what was left in the pan into the trash.
“Ridiculous,” I muttered.
“What’s that?” Enzo snarled, turning his razor sharp gaze on me.
I glared at the butter on his hunting knife and pointed. “That is ridiculous.” I looked to the burnt pan Frankie was holding. “And that is pathetic. Did no one ever teach you how to cook?”
“We usually have maids for that, but we can’t exactly bring one here while you’re in the house,” Frankie said with a dark frown.
Enzo took some questionable-looking brown thing out of the refrigerator and I grimaced.
“Let me cook,” I insisted. “I’m good at it.”
Enzo tsked. “No chance.”
“Why not?” Frankie shot back and my brows arched hopefully. “She can’t do anything to us, we’ve got guns.” He lifted his shirt to expose the pistol there pressed to his cut abs and I was sharply reminded that Frankie might have had a face like an angel, but his soul was encased in sin.
Enzo gazed at his wholly unappetising sandwich for a long moment before shrugging his uninjured arm. “Fine. But if she runs, it’s on you when I put a bullet in her.”
Fear wrapped around my heart as I looked between them. Frankie didn’t object and I knew they meant it.
Enzo approached, unlocking my cuffs and I slipped off of my seat, tentatively moving around him and heading to the refrigerator. It was well-stocked and a jar of fusilli on the side gave me an idea for a meal. I took out the ingredients I needed, glad to have something to focus on other than my current situation as I started preparing the food.
Enzo and Frankie took seats at the island, watching me silently. I soon forgot they were watching, falling into the familiarity of cooking and taking some comfort in the thing I loved doing most in the world.
The snowy scene beyond the window reminded me I wasn’t anywhere near Italy anymore, but for a second I captured the feeling of the freedom I’d had there. Cooking what I wanted, when I wanted. Living in my home, never having to answer to anyone. What I’d give to have that back.
“Where’s Rocco?” I inquired, half expecting him to jump into the room like a jack-in-the-box at any moment.
“Out,” Enzo replied and it was clear I wasn’t going to get any more information than that.
I made a simple but tasty dish of fusilli with spinach and ricotta, placing down three bowls on the island and handing the men a fork each. I dropped down beside them, my stomach rumbling, but I waited for them to try it first.
Enzo ate one mouthful then scoffed the whole lot down within about thirty seconds. Frankie ate his slowly, devouring every piece like it was his first and smiling in between bites.
“Oh Dio, questo è buono,” Oh god, this is good, Frankie groaned in delight and I couldn’t fight a grin of pride as I tucked into my own meal.
I tried to savour my bites like Frankie had, but I was soon scraping the last piece of pasta out of the bottom of the bowl and placing it on my tongue.
“I wonder if she cleans as well as she cooks,” Enzo said to Frankie with a taunting grin.
I didn’t really care if they made me wash up, that would only give me more chance of getting my hands on one of the sharp knives I’d used to chop the spinach. If I could just slip one up my sleeve, maybe I could use it tonight against my vicious sleeping partner.
“What the fuck is going on?” Rocco’s voice crashed over me and I lurched around in alarm as he strode into the kitchen looking like the definition of power. His shirt clung to his muscles, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his bronzed forearms. His hair was styled, but a lock had fallen loose, caressing his forehead and speaking of the wild man who could so easily burst out of that business attire.
“We’re just making use of our house guest,” Enzo said with a shrug. “She might as well cook and clean for us while she’s here.”
“And give her a chance to stash a weapon or put cyanide in your meal?” Rocco scoffed.
“I’m fresh out of cyanide,” I said coolly and his eyes whipped back to me, full of hate.
“Enough of this,” he hissed, marching toward me and I nearly fell off of my stool in my haste to escape him.
He caught me around the waist, launching me up and over his shoulder and locking his arms around my legs.
“Hey!” I yelled, throwing my fists into his back. “Put me down!”
He carried me through to the living room and up the stairs as easily as if I weighed nothing. My stomach lurched as he kicked the door open to his bedroom and tossed me on the floor. He kicked the door shut and I flinched as he locked it, pocketing the key. He stepped over me and my heart ricocheted off the walls of my chest, but he kept walking, heading to a closet across the room where I spied some women’s clothes Frankie must have put there for me. He took a little leather bag from a shelf, unzipping it and producing two lipsticks.
I leapt back to my feet, hurrying to the door and pressing myself against it. “What are you doing?” I asked, trying to force my voice not to shake.
“Are you a rose red kinda girl, or cotton candy pink?” he asked, ignoring my question.
“What?”
“You’re too much of a virgin for the red,” he muttered to himself and my upper lip peeled back.
He walked up beside me, facing the mirror hanging on the wall next to the door. He pulled the lid off of the pink lipstick and I stared at him in shock as he started putting it on himself.
What the hell is happening right now??
He took his sweet time, painting it on just right then turned to me with a sadistic smile on those cotton candy lips.
Oh holy shit! I tried to run but he lunged, throwing me back against the door and stamping his mouth to mine.
My senses were drowned by my heart-jack-hammering, the divine scent of him, the deadly taste of him. How dare he fucking touch me?!
He pulled back, smacking his lips together to make a kissing noise, smirking at me. I slapped him as hard as I could then grabbed his shoulders, throwing my knee up to catch him in the balls. He jerked backwards before I could land the shot then caught my wrist with a malicious glint in his endless eyes. He dragged me forward, flipping me into the air and my legs kicked and wheeled as I tried to fight.
“No!” I screamed, my voice echoing around the whole house.
He launched me onto the bed and I bounced on the mattress, scrambling to my knees. He followed me onto the bed, snatching the strap of my tank top and ripping it with a sharp pull. It hung loose, almost exposing my breast and a true fear found me. He snatched hold of my hair, knotting it up between his fingers and ruffling it over my head.
“Plea
se don’t!” I gasped.
I fought back with a keen desperation, landing a solid punch to his chest, but he didn’t even blink. I could see a monster behind his eyes and knew I couldn’t win. I had to run.
I wriggled away and crawled backwards, leaping to my feet on the bed. He lunged forward to catch my ankle, uprooting me once more. I threw a sharp kick at his face as I fell and he goddamn laughed when my heel connected with his chin. I was off the bed in a second, sprinting toward the window.
His hands latched around my waist and he tossed me back to the bed with sheer force. I bounced off the edge and crashed to the floor, pain flaring up my spine. He marched after me and my pulse thumped wildly in my ears. I scrambled backwards and made it to the bathroom, kicking the door closed.
It bounced off his shiny Italian loafer as he wedged it in the doorframe and I pushed myself up in a panic, diving into the shower unit and slamming the glass door closed between us.
He stood looking at me with a smile hooking up his lips then folded his arms. “Now what, principessa? Are you going to wash yourself down the drain?”
I glanced around me for any sign of a weapon, but all I could see were my options fading. I put my middle finger up and pressed it to the glass in a last act of defiance, baring my teeth at him as some wild part of me took over.
His eyes skidded down my neck and over my breasts, giving me just long enough for an idea to spark in my mind. I swiped the shower head from the holder above me, flipping on the hot water and shoving the door open.
He dodged the scalding water with a snarl, grabbing the hose and yanking hard enough to make me stumble into him. Then he wrapped it around my shoulders as the water continued pouring. It crashed over my feet and I yelped, but he lifted me in the same moment, reaching into the shower and switching the dial.
I gasped as he held the shower head above me and an ice-cold torrent drenched me right through.
“Asshole!” I tried to kick him and when that didn’t work, I bit deep into his arm until I tasted blood.
Beautiful Carnage: A Dark Mafia Bully Romance (The Boys of Sinners Bay Book 1) Page 9