Crucified

by Hansen, Marita A.

  Andriena rolled her eyes at me, mouthing, “Troia.”

  I smirked.

  “And where is everyone?” Ghita asked in that snooty tone of hers, which told me she wanted a welcome fit for a queen. “Why aren’t they here to greet us?”

  “I have no idea.” I turned to the Landi soldier who had followed us inside. “Where is the Don?”

  “Upstairs with Jagger.”

  My focus shifted back to the women. “You two stay here with the guard, while I go get the Don for you.”

  “I want to go with you,” Andriena said, giving the soldier worried glances.

  I placed my hands on her shoulders. “He is here to protect, not to hurt you.”

  She screwed up her face, still looking scared. “He’s still a soldier.”

  “A Landi. They are not the same as the ones who hurt you, and I am truly sorry for what you went through. You are a lovely signorina who only deserves to be treated with the utmost respect, which this guard will do.”

  She nodded, although I could tell she wasn’t convinced, the past couple of days a nightmare for her.

  “Take a seat on the couch,” I said. “I will be back with you as soon as possible.”

  She moved to the couch, along with her sister, who was giving the soldier suspicious glares. The man didn’t respond, just took up guard by the door. The Landi soldiers were nothing like the hired thugs who protected my famiglia. They were real soldiers who had seen action in war zones, their skills far exceeding the average mafioso soldier.

  I headed up the staircase, hearing a raised voice coming from a room further down the passage. It sounded like Jagger was arguing with someone. I went to his room and poked my head inside the doorway, finding Frano and Jagger in deep discussion as well as a woman asleep on the bed. Jagger was waving his hands about, telling Frano some woman was his.

  “She has chosen me,” Frano said. “You can’t do anything about it.”

  “Like hell,” Jagger snapped. “Where is she?”

  “In my room.”

  Jagger turned to the door, stopping when he saw me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m after the Don,” I answered. “The Donatelli sisters have arrived.”

  Jagger’s head snapped to Frano. “More Donatelli!”

  “They are just Camila’s two sisters,” Frano replied.

  “I don’t fucking care. Next thing I know, they’ll be bringing in their brothers, then their fucking rapist uncle.”

  “You’re being unreasonable now. I would never allow that to happen.”

  Jagger’s jaw tightened. “You allowed it once, so I might as well take off before I find myself chained to a Donatelli wall again.” He went to his wardrobe, pulling out a suitcase from it.

  Frano followed him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “New York,” Jagger said, laying the suitcase down.

  “There’s no need to go there; we don’t need any more slaves. The cells are full.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Jagger sneered, “since you’ll make room for them in your bed.”

  “I never intended on taking Sophia from you.”

  “Then why did you?!”

  “I fell for her.”

  “She was my girlfriend.”

  “She isn’t the same girl you fell in love with. Like her new name, she’s different now. She’s done things that you won’t be able to handle.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t wish to discuss it.”

  “I have a right to know.”

  Frano glanced at me, then back at Jagger. “I’ve done many bad things, so I can’t judge her, but you will, and I won’t allow it.”

  Jagger shook his head. “I don’t have a right to judge her after all the shit I’ve done. Though, I am concerned about her lying to me. She told me she was Sophia’s sister, and that the Black Russian has Sophia, which means, if she’s lied to me, she will have lied to you too. You can’t trust anything she says, even who she is.”

  “She is Sophia; she remembers things that only Sophia would know.”

  Concern crossed Jagger’s face. “It can’t be her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I…” he paused. “Because everyone knows she drowned.”

  “Her body was never found, obviously because she didn’t die.”

  “Does she remember the attack?”

  “She only remembers seeing the Padre, but I think she’s confusing him with Christo.”

  Jagger’s frown lessened. “Regardless, I will fight you for her.”

  “That’s pointless, she wants me and has agreed to…” he paused.

  “Agreed to what?”

  “I can’t tell you yet.”

  “It doesn’t matter, I will change her mind.”

  Frano scowled. “You won’t, and I’m truly sorry for everything that has happened, but you might as well face reality: she wanted me from the first day you introduced us and that won’t change.”

  Jagger waved his hand in the air. “You are full of shit! Just get out of my room!”

  Frano exhaled loudly, then turned and indicated for me to follow. I exited the room with him, closing the door behind us.

  “I’m sorry you had to witness that,” Frano said. “Jagger’s been through a lot.”

  “There’s no need to apologize.”

  Frano patted my arm. “Grazie. Now, how’s your famiglia?”

  “All good, though my madre was sad you couldn’t come: she has a soft spot for you.”

  “It’s because I like her cooking.” Frano smiled. “So, were there any problems with your brother giving up Ghita?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Hell yeah, lots of problems. Ricardo went into a rage, trying to override everyone to keep her, though God only knows why, because she’s a complete troia. Luckily, he finally calmed down, probably because Ghita accepted his marriage proposal.”

  “I thought Ghita hated Ricardo,” Frano said, appearing surprised.

  “It was all a pretense, because her father wouldn’t have allowed them to be together. But now he’s dead, Ghita wants Camila to smooth things over with the rest of her famiglia so she can marry him.”

  “Your brother has extremely poor taste in women. The Donatelli women are bitches—including Camila.”

  I smiled, wondering why he was marrying her then, but it wasn’t my business to ask. “There’s one exception,” I said. “Andriena’s nice.”

  “Sì, she is and probably the only one out of that bunch of banshees.”

  “That’s what I thought too. Anyhow, they’re downstairs and would like to see you and Camila. By the way, where is your lovely fiancée?”

  He laughed. “Your sarcasm isn’t missed. She’s—”

  Squeals came from downstairs, answering my question before Frano could, the troia and her sisters making lots of noise, obviously ecstatic to see each other.

  “I guess I better go greet them,” Frano said, looking like a man about to walk to his doom.

  A door opened further down the passage, pulling my attention away from him. Honey stepped out of a room, wearing a lovely yellow sundress. She stopped when she saw me, then quickly spun around and went back into the room, closing the door behind her.

  “I’ll leave you with them,” I said. “I want to go see Honey.”

  Frano nodded, and headed for the staircase.

  I kicked into gear, aiming for Honey’s room. A guard pushed up from his chair as I approached it.

  “I want to see Honey,” I said.

  Without a word, he opened the door for me to enter. I stepped inside, my gaze instantly going to Honey, who was lying on the bed, crying. Her eyes were red and her face puffy.

  “What happened?” I asked, walking over to her.

  Shaking her head, she sat up and covered her face with her hands.

  I sat down on the bed and placed an arm around her shoulders. “Has someone hurt you?” I asked, concerned.

  She dropped her h
ands; her expression agonized. “Jagger doesn’t love me,” she said.

  “Did he say that?”

  She nodded.

  “Then, he’s obviously not the right person for you.”

  “But I love him,” she sobbed. “Even after all the cruel things he said, my heart still only beats for him.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That he never loved me, that he only pretended to, and that I was nothing more than a job to him. He was so cruel. And the way he looked at me. It made me feel as though I took advantage of him, but he was the one who used me.” She wiped her nose. “I … I did everything for him, looked after him when he was hurt, yet he hates me.”

  “Did he say he hated you?”

  “No, but it was obvious. He wouldn’t let me touch him, and he kept yelling at me to leave his room. I was willing to give up my husband for him.”

  I removed my arm from around her shoulders. “Did you just say you’re married?”

  She nodded. “Jagger kidnapped me.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said for her benefit, although I already knew she’d been taken, just not the married side of things. That was one thing I didn’t do: fuck married women. They were off limits; the vow of marriage sacred to me.

  She wiped her eyes. “You train women who have been kidnapped, so how can you be sorry?”

  “I don’t kidnap or mistreat the slaves, especially since I know what it feels like.”

  “You were a slave?” she said, looking surprised.

  “No. I was held for ransom when I was fourteen.”

  “Oh … were you hurt?”

  “Sì.” I pulled off my T-shirt and turned to show her my back. “If you look closely you will see the scars.”

  “I can only see your tattoos.”

  “Touch my back, you will feel them.”

  She ran her fingers down my back, her touch hesitant. She stopped when she brushed over one of my scars. She ran her finger over it again, then moved onto my other ones, my back a minefield of scars. “Are these the reason for your tattoos?” she asked.

  “Sì. The kidnappers carved my back up out of spite because my father wouldn’t pay the ransom. If you start from the top left, and move across and downwards, you will feel a message.”

  “What does it say?”

  “That I’m so worthless, not even my father wanted me to live.” I moved away from her hand.

  “That’s the most horrible thing to do to anyone, let alone a child.”

  “But, it’s true,” I said, although I didn’t understand why I was telling her all this.

  “No, it’s not. You are not worthless, Alessandro. Would a worthless man take the time to try to cheer up a slave? That right there shows you have an honorable and strong character. And, I’m sure your father must’ve had a good reason why he didn’t pay. Maybe the police told him not to or he couldn’t afford it.”

  “The mafia doesn’t get told what to do by the polizia, they tell them what to do, and my father could’ve paid the ransom twice over. Remember he almost bought you for me?”

  She frowned. “Then why didn’t he pay your kidnappers?”

  “He was sending a message that if any of my famiglia were snatched, the kidnappers would get nothing from him other than hits placed on their heads. He said he did it for the rest of the famiglia so it didn’t happen again.”

  “But, your life was at stake.”

  “I am one of ten children, eight of them boys, which means I’m disposable.”

  She stared at me in horror. “No child is disposable. What about your mother?”

  “She never forgave my father for it. They are still married, but my mother tolerates him, nothing more, the love gone. My father also blames me for that as well as allowing myself to be kidnapped.”

  “That’s not your fault.”

  “I’m afraid it is. I didn’t do as I was told. I was supposed to stay with the bodyguards, but I wanted to see my girlfriend, so I ditched them. The kidnappers jumped me at her house.” I pushed down the memory of what happened that day, of how they had murdered my girlfriend and her family because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  “You were a child, and for your father to not pay: that is just truly horrible. I am so sorry you had to experience that.”

  I frowned. “You shouldn’t feel sorry for me. Innocent people died because of my selfish actions.”

  “You shouldn’t blame yourself: you were the victim, and it saddens me you were put through that.”

  “It saddens me what’s happened to you too. Marriage is sacred and Jagger was wrong for breaking it.”

  She dropped her gaze, looking devastated.

  “Do you wish to go back home?” I asked.

  “I wish for a lot of things, but that’s not one of them.”

  “Do you miss your husband?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you wish to go back to him?”

  “I wish Jagger didn’t tell me he didn’t love me.”

  I frowned. “Forget about Jagger, you should be more concerned about the man who pledged his life to you. And where is your ring? Did Jagger take it from you?”

  “I gave it to him.”

  “A ring is sacred. It’s not something you should give away so easily.”

  “I did it for Jagger.”

  “But, what about your husband?”

  She burst into tears, making me feel bad for upsetting her more. Still, I was annoyed that the D’Angelos had lied about her. They had advertised her as a single woman with a strong backbone, which was an outright lie, and despite her beauty and sweet personality, I was glad my father didn’t buy her. If anything, I would sooner jump into bed with Ghita than Honey, which was NEVER going to happen.

  Despite myself, I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a hug, making her stiffen. “I’m just comforting you; I’m not going to do anything inappropriate now that I know you’re married.”

  She pulled back. “But, I threw my marriage away for someone who doesn’t even love me. And now I have nothing. I’m not even allowed to call my family to tell them I’m alright.” What looked like hope crossed her face. “Can I use your phone to call them?”

  “That’s the Don’s decision to make, not mine.”

  “But I don’t want to be here! Jagger hates me!”

  “He’s upset. Maybe once he calms down, things will blow over. You seemed close to him yesterday, and he was leaning on you for support.”

  She went still, her expression brightening. “That’s true. He turned to me and let me hold him, so he might have just said those things because he was upset.” She leaned in and hugged me. “Thank you so much, you’re much nicer than I thought you were.”

  “I’m a very nice person for a slave trainer.”

  She pulled back and looked at me, her expression telling me she wasn’t sure whether to take what I said as a joke or not. But, it was a joke, because I didn’t think I was a nice person, hell, I was a bastard, but this woman was sweet—despite being an adulterer. Still, I didn’t have a right to judge her, considering I fucked any woman who didn’t have a ring on, regardless of whether they had a boyfriend or not. And then there were the slaves; I had no idea whether they were married or single, because none of them had ever spoken of a husband. Though, I didn’t tend to pry into their past; I just told them what I expected of them and what their future masters would expect.

  “Um…” Honey said, “…about tonight.”

  “Yeah,” I said, my mind going to her sleeping in my bed.

  “Do I still have to sleep in the same bed as you?”

  “No, I’m not interested in seducing a married woman.”

  Her face saddened.

  “Why are you saddened by my words?” I asked. “I thought you would be relieved.”

  “It’s not that, you keep reminding me of my husband.”

  You shouldn’t need reminding. “Do you still love him?” I said instead.

  She nodde
d.

  “Do you want to be with Jagger more or your husband?”

  She wiped her eyes. “I wish I could say my husband, but it’s Jagger.”

  “Then wait until Jagger calms down and go to him.” I frowned, remembering Jagger getting his suitcase out. “Actually, don’t wait too long, because he mentioned wanting to go to New York.”

  She sat up straight. “New York? That’s where I was taken from. Maybe I can go back with Jagger.”

  “Then ask him. It’s worth a try.”

  She nodded, looking ecstatic.

  I took a hold of her hand and kissed it. “If I don’t see you again, it was nice meeting you.”

  She smiled at me as I let go of her hand. “You too, despite our first rocky meeting.”

  “Sì. I apologize for that; I get carried away sometimes when I see a beautiful lady.” I pushed to my feet. “Anyway, I shall take my leave now. I’m afraid I have work to do, plus I’m sure you will have a lot to think about.”

  “Yes, and thank you, Alessandro, you are truly a lovely man.”

  “As you are a lovely signora.” I bowed, then left the room, closing the door behind me. I nodded at the guard, then headed down the passage, stopping as another Landi guard helped an injured woman up the staircase. She had bandages covering most of her face, only her blonde hair, pretty mouth, and pained eyes visible. She stopped just before the top and looked up at me.

  I held out my hand. “I am Alessandro Santini. And you are?”

  “Bianca D’Angelo,” she said, looking at my hand.

  I retracted it, just noticing her hands were wrapped in bandages. “What happened to you?”

  “I married Alberto D’Angelo,” she said, her words enough to tell me he had caused her injuries. First Jagger, now this woman—Frano had been right to kill his brother.

  I moved my gaze to the solider helping her. “I will assist her to her room.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Bianca said. “I will see myself to my own room.” She took the remaining step and limped past me.

  I followed her.

  She stopped and turned around. “Why are you following me?”

  “A lady should have the door opened for her.”

  She stared at me, appearing surprised.

  “Which is your room?” I asked, breaking the silence.