When I enter, the man leaves and Stefan stands. He’s tall, as tall as Gregory, and built like him. He turns to me and his eyes scan me. He shakes his head and I can’t think about the fact that I’m in my underwear in front of this man.
“They should have let you get dressed. You must be cold.” He gestures to the seat closest to the fire.
I just stand there.
He raises an eyebrow and I realize I’m shaking and hugging my arms to myself and it’s not because of the cold.
He picks up a blanket from a nearby chair and hands it to me.
“Put this around you and sit down, Amelia,” he says.
He knows my name. I don’t know why that upsets me. Of course, he knows my name.
I take the blanket and wrap it around myself and take the long way to the sofa to give myself more space. I perch on the edge of the couch, wrap the blanket around my shoulders and look at the fire.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I can watch a fire all day.”
I look up at him and he seems almost peaceful as he does just that, the rising crescendo of the soprano background.
But then he faces me again and even for the smile, I know there isn’t anything peaceful about him. Nothing soft about this man.
“Why am I here?” I try to keep the tremor from my voice but it’s impossible.
“You are perfectly safe, Amelia. You don’t need to be afraid of me.”
“I’m not,” I lie, my voice breaking on the words.
His smile widens.
“Why am I here?” I ask again.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asks, ignoring my question and not waiting for a reply as he fills a glass for me. Whiskey from the color and smell.
I take it but have no intention of drinking it. “Why am I here?”
He sits down across from me and it takes all I have not to crumple beneath his gaze. “Incentive.”
I wonder if he sees my confusion as he leans back in his seat and drinks his whiskey.
“Relax, Amelia.”
I look at him. Is he serious? “You want me to relax? You kidnapped me. Your men came into the bedroom and…and…”
He shifts forward in his seat, reaches out and takes hold of my chin, raises it. He’s looking at my throat which I’m sure is bruised.
“And you fought them.”
“I…yes.”
He shifts his gaze to mine. “They weren’t to hurt you. I’m sorry they did. And I’m sorry you were afraid, but there was really no other way. You’re safe now. I won’t hurt you.”
“Then why did you bring me here?”
He leans back in his seat. “That business is between me and Gregory. Don’t worry yourself with it.”
I shudder with a sudden chill.
“You must be tired.”
What does he expect from me?
“Anya,” he calls out, never taking his eyes off me.
A woman appears out of nowhere and I turn to her like maybe she’ll help me.
Help me do what, though? Run out of here in my underwear and face the armed men at the closed gates?
“Take Amelia to her room,” he says to her then turns to me.
“My room?”
“See to whatever she needs.”
“But—”
“Go to bed, Amelia. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
I don’t move and after a moment, he gets up and comes to me and all I can think when he pulls the blanket away and takes hold of my arm to lift me up is that he lied when he said he wouldn’t hurt me.
“It’s time for you to go to bed.”
I hate that I feel the tears building behind my eyes. That I’m so fucking afraid.
“You’re tired, aren’t you?” he asks.
I nod because I want to be away from him.
Stefan says one more thing in Italian to Anya that I don’t catch, and when he releases me, I follow Anya up the stairs and to a bedroom where a man is standing just outside the door. He nods to her and ignores me.
I follow Anya inside and she asks me if I need anything to which I just shake my head because what I need is to get out of here and that’s not on offer.
As soon as the door closes, I go to it, pull it open. I know the man will be there. It’s the only reason she didn’t lock me in. I meet his hard eyes and slip back inside, closing the door, taking in my new prison, a luxurious room that may as well be a cell.
19
Amelia
There’s nothing for me to do but wait and I sit beneath the blankets on the bed intending to stay awake, but at some point, I must doze off because I wake when the door is unlocked and a different woman than Anya walks into my room with a breakfast tray. The guard at my door stands waiting for her. I rub my eyes and before I can even get up or say anything, she’s gone and the door is closed.
I checked the room last night and the windows were locked, and the closet empty. Although there are toiletries in the bathroom, so I brush my teeth and wash my face and return to the bedroom. I don’t try the door. There’s no point. Stefan is going to let me out when he wants to let me out, which is when Gregory gets here.
The coffee smells good and I pour some and force myself to eat a bite of toast while I wait. And wait.
A few hours later—I don’t know exactly because there’s no clock in the room—someone comes and leaves another tray, clearing away the one from breakfast.
“Where is Stefan? Can I talk to him?” I ask her.
But she hurries along, ignoring me, pulling the door closed behind her.
I open it again but am greeted by the same man standing guard outside and I quickly step back into the bedroom, pushing it closed.
I don’t eat the food this time and my hope seems to be fading with the sun. I’ve been here for almost a full day. He’s had me locked in here for a full day.
Where was Gregory? Where had he gone after I’d fallen asleep? Does he even know I’m missing?
The next time the door opens, I’m expecting one of the girls again with another tray but when Stefan steps inside, I can’t help but back up a step.
He looks me over, and I cover myself as best I can.
Anya follows him with a garment bag and some shoes as he eyes the still-full tray. “You don’t like the food?”
“I’m not hungry. I want to go home.”
“Home?”
I give a shake of my head. “To Gregory’s house.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible. Get dressed. You’ll eat with me.”
“I don’t want to—”
He steps toward me and there’s no smile and any softness I ever imagined in his eyes is gone and I wonder if it was ever there at all.
He doesn’t have to say a word. He knows it. But when he reaches out to touch me, I gasp, instantly wanting to flee. But he shakes his head once and lifts my hair off my shoulder and walks around me.
“Pretty,” he says, touching the tattoo, making me shudder as I wipe away tears. He turns me to face him, squeezes my shoulders. “I’m old-fashioned, though. Tattoos don’t belong on a woman. Especially not one as pretty as you.”
All I can do is stare up at him.
“Where’s Gregory?” I ask.
“I’m sure he’ll come for you the instant he realizes you’re gone. I’ll deal with him then. For now, I want you to go have a shower and put on that dress. Anya will help with your hair and make-up and you’ll come downstairs for dinner. Am I clear?”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
“I don’t want to eat with you. I don’t want to put on that dress. I don’t want—”
He squeezes again, a little too hard, and leans in so his face is inches from mine. “I don’t want to have to make you, Amelia.”
It seems recently that all the men in my life have used that same sentence.
I try to swallow over the lump in my throat and he stands there watching me.
“Are you going to do as I say?”
I nod once.
He smiles and that dimple is back. “Good. Go get ready. I’m hungry.”
Anya waits for me while I shower. She helps me put on the dress because my hands are shaking too much to do it myself. She then arranges my hair and makeup and when we’re ready, she opens the door and I follow her downstairs where the music grows louder, opera again, and three men have gathered and they all look up at me as I approach.
Stefan does too and he smiles and nods in approval of the dress. It’s pretty, a three-quarter length black halter dress. He’s wearing a black suit with a black shirt and tie, like yesterday.
When Stefan stands, they do too. They’re older, these men and the way they look at me makes my skin crawl.
“Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me.” He shakes hands with each of the men who then leave together. When we’re alone, Stefan turns to me. “You look very nice. He puts a hand at my back. “Let’s go into my study. We’ll have a drink.”
I go with him because I don’t know what else to do and once we’re there, he closes the door and I look around as he pours drinks.
“Whiskey okay?”
“I don’t care.”
He hands me one of the two glasses a moment later and smiles down at me.
“Where’s Gregory? Did you hurt him?” I ask.
“I have no reason to hurt him. Not yet.”
“Where is he then?”
“On his way.”
I feel relieved but also anxious.
“You and Gregory have an interesting history, don’t you?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“The Willow family and the Scafoni family. Lucinda told me a little about it and I was so curious, I did some digging myself. The Willow Girl tradition, it’s archaic but so appealing all at once.”
“Not to the Willow Girls, it’s not.”
“So Gregory lost his turn with his brother’s pick and went to get his own Willow Girl, is that right?”
I don’t know why this wounds me. It’s true, after all. Or at least it started that way.
“You don’t know anything about any of this,” I say.
“No? How much do you know, Amelia? How much do you know about what happened with the Scafoni brothers and your sister? How much has he told you?”
I’m at a loss and he sees it on my face.
“I found something when I was having a look around the house. I thought you should know.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Have you been to the catacombs?”
“Catacombs?”
“There’s a door in the library. It’ll take you there. Then you turn right. Just keep turning right until you find the room I mean. I’m curious what you’ll make of what you see there. I found it very interesting,” he pauses. “Honestly, I wish I could see your face when you see it.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask again.
He grins, walks around me, leans in close, touches that tattoo again. “I’m happy to come and get you after you’ve seen that room,” he whispers, trailing just his fingertips along the line of my shoulder, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
I open my mouth to say something, to ask what he means when one of his men comes inside and I know from the look on Stefan’s face that it’s Gregory, that he’s come for me.
Not a moment later, the door bursts open and he’s here and two men rush in after him and grab hold of him and when Gregory gets a look at us, I think he’s going to kill Stefan.
I think he’s going to tear him apart with his bare hands.
20
Gregory
“Get your goddamned hands off her!”
I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill this mother fucker.
I didn’t get back to the house until an hour ago only to find Amelia missing. Gone. Fucking vanished. And then I found that fucking invitation to the party I turned down. The asshole must have had a man outside just waiting for me to give him the opportunity to steal her away.
I haven’t slept. Haven’t eaten. But fuck, I drank my share of whiskey and I feel it now.
Helena is pregnant.
Helena is fucking pregnant and I find out from fucking Lucinda!
Betrayed.
Betrayed again by my brother. By Helena.
By Amelia.
Amelia.
I shift my gaze to her, and I want to strangle her and at the same time, snatch her away from Stefan.
I remember the comment about the doctor that Helena made on the phone that day, remember how Amelia pretended not to know what it was about when I questioned her. I didn’t give it another thought.
Sebastian didn’t say a goddamned word. Maybe that’s why he was in such a hurry to get me gone. Because the baby…
They don’t resemble either of you just yet.
Not baby. Babies.
They could be mine.
What if they’re mine?
I shake my head, try to clear the thoughts because these last hours haven’t done that. They’ve only intensified everything.
The image of Lucinda’s bandaged hand plays before me, and I look Amelia over but she’s fine. He hasn’t hurt her. I don’t think he intended to hurt her. He just wanted to scare me. To show me exactly how much power he has after what I said.
This is my fault.
He took her to prove a point to me.
“Gregory,” Stefan says. “No need to barge in like this. I did invite you.”
I tug at the men and manage to get one off balance, but a third man steps in.
“Sit down,” Stefan says.
“Fuck you, Stefan.”
“Are you drunk, Gregory?”
“If you don’t get your hands off her—”
His grin cuts me off. That and the way he runs his fingertips along the nape of her neck.
Amelia is staring at me like she can’t peel her eyes away. Like she couldn’t blink if she tried. She shudders at his touch, and her knuckles are white around the glass she’s holding, and I know she’s terrified.
“Let her go, Stefan,” I say more calmly. “She has nothing to do with this.”
He steps back, looks at Amelia like he’s shocked. “She’s not a prisoner. We were just having a chat and a drink while waiting for you. Which by the way, it did take you a while. How’s Lucinda?”
“Get your goons off me before I kill them.”
“Are you going to behave?” Stefan asks me.
“Fuck you.”
“There’s my answer.” He turns to one of his men. “Take the girl to her room while Gregory and I talk.” He hands Amelia to the man.
She lets out a small scream when the man tugs her so hard, she almost falls.
“Let her fucking go. Don’t fucking touch her!”
“You don’t give the orders in my house!”
I grit my teeth, swallow my fuck you. “I have what you want,” I say, stopping my struggle against the men.
He narrows his eyes at me.
“Let her go and I’ll give it to you.”
“Or I can just take it.”
“That’s not your style.”
He smiles. “No, it’s not.” He turns to his man. “Let her go.”
Amelia backs up against the far wall, eyes huge. I think in all the time I’ve had her, tonight is when she’s truly afraid.
Stefan tucks his hands into his pockets. He gestures for his men to back off me, too.
“Come here, Amelia,” I say, never taking my eyes off him.
She comes quickly and quietly to my side.
I turn to her. “Did he hurt you?”
“I’m offended,” Stefan says mockingly.
I could give a fuck about him.
“Did he hurt you?” I ask her again.
She shakes her head. I think she’s just barely keeping it together.
I turn to Stefan, reach into my pocket, take out his brother’s ring and set it on his desk. “This is what you wanted Luc
inda for. Here it is. You took her fingers. That makes you even in my book.”
He looks at the ring and I don’t know if he’s surprised or what, but he picks it up, studies it for a long while, turning it over and over in his hand almost like he’s remembering.
After an eternity, he slips it onto his finger, and I think Lucinda was wrong. I think it fits perfectly for Stefan to have the ring. To have the title of boss because he is that. His brother wasn’t ever cut out for this. Stefan, though, he likes his job.
Stefan takes a sip of his whiskey and shifts his gaze to me.
“I’m afraid I’m not finished with Lucinda just yet,” he informs me.
“You have what she took.”
“Is that what she told you?”
Fuck.
“Thank you for returning my ring.” He pours a second glass of whiskey and holds it out to me. “This business with Lucinda, you’re out of it.”
I don’t take the glass. He sets it down, studies me.
“We’re the same, you and I, you know,” he says.
“We’re not the same. We’re nothing alike.”
“On the contrary, I know something about you. I know how far you’ll go to get what you want.” His eyes fall on Amelia. He smiles, but when he shifts his gaze to me, that smile vanishes. “And I know what you’re capable of.”
He looks down at that ring again and I think what a sad victory. Top of his world and look at him.
“Let them go,” he says without another glance at either of us and we’re ushered out before I can say another word.
21
Amelia
Gregory takes care with me, putting me into the car, strapping me in. Somehow, I keep it together until we drive out of those gates because I’m not sure Stefan’s really going to let us go. But once we’re on the road, it’s like everything I felt the last twenty-four hours comes rushing out in the form of tears.
“Are you all right?” Gregory asks me once we’re on the highway.
“Am I all right?” I ask, turning to him.
His jaw tightens, and his knuckles go white on the steering wheel.
Twisted Page 14