Stolen Wife

by Carina Blake

  “The feeling is mutual, Giada.” He reaches out and grabs my hand, bringing it to his lips like a perfect gentleman. It’s the way they train them. They put up that front of a respectable man, but they are all ruthless. Not one of them is worth another breath, but I’ll be glad to watch them all take their last gasp of air.

  “Come, join us for lunch. Rafael had to take a meeting and will miss out, but I’m sure you are hungry after your morning activities.” My asshole father-in-law’s meaning is fully clear. He’s letting everyone know, especially Santino, that Rafael fucked me before he left.

  Controlling the flood of embarrassment coursing through me, I smile and politely decline. “Hardly. In fact, I find that I don’t have an appetite.” If I didn’t feel dirty enough before, now I feel just foul.

  “Nonsense, Giada. You will sit and eat. You’ll need your strength while carrying the next family heir.”

  “You’re pregnant?” Santino utters in barely disguised disgust. His reaction is the only thing stopping me from losing my shit. For some reason I want to reassure him that I’m not pregnant. I’ve only seen the one picture of him, and he’s nothing like the man in front of me. He’s handsome either way, but that smile I saw in that old photo doesn’t match the man that’s doing some wrong things to my heart. It’s fear. Yes, that’s what I tell myself. Nothing but fear and maybe lust.

  “Not yet.” I’m shocked and my heart dances when he releases a sigh of relief at that revelation.

  “Soon. We hope.” My father-in-law is trying to stick the point to Santino. I stand straight up and look away from Santino and remember that I’m a married woman even if I’m devastatingly unhappy.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know anything about your family.”

  “She’s Avanti’s youngest daughter.” My father-in-law doesn’t allow me to answer for myself, which is common. I feel like a six-year-old’s puppet. They throw me around like a rag doll, have me married to Mr. Potato Head, and speak for me as they dictate my every move.

  “How old are you, Giada?” He pointedly looks at his father, catching the way he’s controlling me.

  “I’m nineteen.” I get out before I’m spoken for again. It pisses my asshole father-in-law off, and inside I do a little happy dance while maintaining a neutral expression on my face.

  “A little young to be married, no?” Before I can find something to say, the maid comes in and alerts us that lunch is prepared.

  Santino takes my arm and hooks it under his. “Come.” My in-laws walk together, and he pulls out my chair for me. He pushes it in, and I could swear he sniffs my hair as he stands straight.

  I need to ignore the way he sends a rush of excitement through me. It’s wrong and futile. He’s no different. I heard he would be locked away forever, but then I overheard Rafael say his brother had been falsely accused and the real killer confessed. There should have been a parade for their son, but the only one who cared was Signora Marchetti.

  “So, Giada, how is life here in the family compound?” he questions, taking a bite of his salad. For a man who’s been in prison, he’s finding the meal unappealing.

  “Wonderful.” I lie through my teeth. Does he believe me? I stare at him wondering a lot of things that don’t make sense to me. How can I want to run my hands over his taut jaw?

  “Nice.” I can’t read him, but a cough from Signor Marchetti calls my attention. I turn to him and see a grimace that is subtle and yet says so much. I’m going to be in trouble.

  “Son, what are your plans?” It’s clear that he’s trying to drag us out of our little trance. Damn it, I’m hoping that he doesn’t tell Rafael.

  “Well, I still have my company. Tonight, I deal with some transitions, but I’m back in the office come next week to run my company the way I’ve always wanted.”

  “That’s great to hear. I’m surprised they were able to maintain your rights as the owner.” I want to ask questions, but I’m not allowed to speak unless spoken to. I open and close my mouth several times, itching to hear him speak directly to me. Why am I doing this? I shouldn’t even register his existence because he’s no different than his father and brother.

  My father-in-law takes a drink of his wine, then looks at me and then to Santino. “Do you know the D’Angelos have a daughter that would be perfect for you?”

  “Are you talking about Suzette?” Signora Marchetti asks. I try to remain calm, but the vision of him marrying her only pisses me off.

  “Yes, my dear.” Immediately the pangs of jealousy hit me. I know who they are talking about. I knew her from before I married Rafael. She’s beautiful and willing to bed anyone, including Rafael if he would have met her.

  “I’m not interested,” he answers after swallowing his bite of food.

  “Why not?”

  He steals a look my way before he says, “I’m not in the hunt for a wife. And I doubt the D’Angelos would take too kindly to me playing with their daughter.”

  “She’s a whore anyway,” I let slip.

  I flinch, waiting for the venom to come from Signor Marchetti’s mouth, but instead he just chuckles. “Yes, Giada is right. She wouldn’t mind a little fun now that you’ve been locked away so long.”

  My mother-in-law looks at both men and scolds them. “Rafael, Santino, is this the talk you should be having at the table? You could have this talk later in private.”

  “Sorry, Mama,” Santino apologizes. “I suppose prison has made me forget my manners.”

  “I apologize as well, my dear.” He never calls her that. Is he only doing that because Santino’s here?

  The lunch is short and to the point. Santino’s phone rings, but he doesn’t answer it. Instead, he stands and says, “Thank you. I’m sorry, but I must go. There’s a great deal for me to do. I have a meeting with the board shortly. Perhaps we can speak later, Papa.” He bows slightly to me. “See you later, Giada.” He bends down and kisses his mother’s cheek and excuses himself.

  As soon as he’s gone, Signor Marchetti leans over the table and says, “If Rafael saw the way you drooled over his brother, you wouldn’t be taking another breath. It explains why he keeps you locked away. You’re no better than Suzette.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about and frankly, I don’t care either. Your son is vile and so are you. I’d rather die than have Rafael ever touch me again with his little dick.” I throw down my napkin, but I don’t get to take another step before he comes around the table and slaps me across the face, sending me falling to the floor.

  “You don’t ever talk that way to me again. I’m not the guards.” I clasp my hand to my face. My mother-in-law comes around the table and helps me up to my seat.

  “Now eat your food. I don’t want this going to waste. We waste enough on you as it is.” I sit there in silence with my head down, refusing to speak to either of them. In my head, I’ve pictured several ways of killing him. My hand lingers over the butter knife a couple of times, but I think better of it.

  After about ten more minutes of silence, he pulls out his phone to summon one of his men, then he tells me to go to my room. One of the guards comes and escorts me out like I’m not a part of this family. I know I’m not, but it feels twenty times worse now than it did this morning.

  Suddenly dying seems like a much more rational way to go. I don’t know if I can handle any more of the abuse. The attack drained my will. When I look in the mirror, I see the damage. It’s pretty bad. Rafael will only do worse once he learns why his dad struck me. It’s going to take a pound of makeup and a week at least to hide this mark, if I live that long. Rafael shouldn’t be back tonight since his mistress lives in New York. They live like a happy couple over there as if he doesn’t have a wife here.

  Thinking about it pisses me off. I’m over here, receiving daily abuse and all because they want a legitimate heir like DNA tests and marriages can’t be arranged with a snap of their fingers. They wanted a virgin bride, like that mattered when they treat me so brutally. My
head throbs, but I don’t have any pain meds up here.

  I try to lie down, but my skull and my hip ache. I hit the chair harder than I thought on my way to the floor. I walk over to the window and wonder if somehow it’s best to jump. I open the curtains and the sun shines in. Squinting a few times, I let my eyes adjust. I’m not sure how long I stand there leaning against the wall, but soon I can see the change in the color of the sky as the sun turns it orange.

  A knock at the door startles me and I drop the curtains. I don’t even get a moment to open it when Signor Marchetti comes in. “You looking to jump?”

  “What? Are you planning to push me?”

  “Why would I do that yet? If you don’t get pregnant soon, I can see it happening.”

  “Is there a reason that you’re here?”

  “It’s my house. I can be wherever I want. I’m warning you to stay away from Santino. I won’t let him ruin my son’s happiness.”

  I twist up my expression. So he really doesn’t care for his oldest, which doesn’t surprise me but instead saddens me. Did Santino grow up with this kind of abuse? Did he kill for his father to win his love and respect?

  “I’m trapped all the time. I will probably never see him again. I’m sure if he shows up, you’ll have me locked up. What you don’t get is that I don’t want him. He’s just like you and your other son. He’s handsome, sure, but since Rafael wants to pawn me off to his men after he gets me pregnant, I can’t help but wonder if I can at least get a good-looking goon.”

  “What the fuck do you mean?”

  “Hasn’t Rafael bragged about how I’ll be passed around to that bastard out there and his others after I produce an heir?”

  “He wouldn’t.”

  “Well, he sure as fuck threatens me with it every time he suffers through fucking me.”

  “That’s not happening. I don’t give a fuck how many mistresses he has, but you will not disgrace or disrespect him by whoring around.”

  “Good, that’s the first thing you and I can happily agree on,” I inform him. I feel a modicum of relief.

  “Wonderful, then maybe I’ll finally get some obedience out of you.”

  “Maybe a dog would be a better wife for him, then.”

  He grips me around the throat. “I may not let him pawn you off on anyone else but keep that shit up, and I’ll fuck you up your ass so hard you’ll be bleeding for weeks.” He tosses me like his son did just this morning, and I’m more afraid than I have ever been. It’s a threat I hadn’t been expecting. He smiles. “And I’m sure I’ll fucking love every minute of it.” He licks his lips and then leaves the room.

  My skin crawls at the thought of his hands on me. I can’t take it anymore. There has to be a way for me to escape. I’m going to try to be on my best behavior and find my way out. I’d rather live on the streets of New York going from shelter to shelter or town to town as long as I can get away from this sick and twisted family.

  A plan. That’s what I need. Who can I get to help me? Fucking hell. I might have to seduce one of the assholes I hate so much, but hopefully it doesn’t come to that. The house is surrounded by one of the strongest iron gates ever made, or at least that’s what I’m told. It spans a half mile in perimeter and there’s cameras all around the compound and a half a dozen guards at any time around the house. The cook goes out at least once a week to the store along with two guards so they can carry back the bags. It’s always on a Wednesday at noon. It’s the only time that the gate’s consistently available. Can I get the cook to help? Maybe I can sneak into the trunk and then have her unlock it and I jump out while they’re in the store. I’ll have to ask Mrs. Marchetti if the cook is willing to assist me in escaping.

  At this point there’s not a single guard or staff member that I know of that’s on my side. I don’t need her to actually do anything but pretend that I’m not in the trunk and unlock it. That might actually work. Goodness, I can only hope.

  A little sense of peace washes over me, and I go to my stack of books and pick War and Peace because I want my mind to shut off so I can fall asleep.

  Chapter Five

  Santino

  I exhale a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding as I walked to the front door to leave. Sunbeams peak through the panes that run from the floor to the top of the door frame.

  I slip on my sunglasses to get a better view of what is going on outside. Nothing looks out of the ordinary, but still I need to be on my toes. Pulling out my phone, I read the message from Martin, reminding me of my meeting. Reluctantly, I tuck my phone in my pocket and open the front door. There’s nothing going down, so that’s good, but from the look on Joey’s face, he’s less than pleased with the wait. He holds the car door open while his suit jacket reveals his piece.

  It’s a struggle to leave that house without her. I try not to think about what my father said in there, but it’s exactly what he intended for me to hear. Rafael fucked her this morning. Which means he’s clearly aware that there’s an attraction between us and that could be extremely dangerous for her. He’d love to destroy me and everything I love. Love...no, it’s not love, just an insane, inexplicable attraction.

  I want her out of that house tonight. As soon as I get in the car, Joey runs to the driver’s seat and drives off.

  Once we’re on the main road, he starts talking. “There are around a half a dozen guys walking the perimeter. I never saw more than three at a time, but I remember their faces.”

  “Did they harass you?” I ask, pulling out my phone and running a few tests on the gadgets Martin had told me about last night during our drive back from upstate New York. They prevent anyone, including Google, from tracking my movements. It’s completely a ghost phone. I’m going to need all the tools and more to get into the house and get her out, so I better get started.

  He scoffs. “They asked me every question under the sun, but I told them to fuck off. I asked them since their job is to protect their family, why the fuck were they bothered by the driver for one of the family members?” That’s why I brought Joey with me. He’s a hardened guy with balls of brass. There’s no way my father’s men were going to get shit out of him.

  “What the fuck did they say?”

  “Nothing. They didn’t have a response, and then finally they tossed out that weak bullshit about needing the background on all those who work for the family. I told them it took them fucking long enough to come up with that basic-ass reply and that I’d be informing you of it. If your father isn’t involved, then his men are at the very least.”

  “Oh, he’s involved. There’s not a doubt in my mind.” I think about the way he kept watching my reaction and interaction with Giada. The thought of him hurting her hasn’t stopped running through my mind as we drive on.

  “I’ve got your back for whatever you’re planning to do,” he says, looking through the rearview mirror.

  “Good. Tonight. We take Giada from this house,” I inform him.

  “Wait? Your brother’s wife?” He’s staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “She’s not his wife,” I growl. The word sounds so damn grotesque to me that I feel it strike the pit of my stomach harder than any blow from a boxing match. “She’s not, and don’t ever say that shit again.”

  “Wow. Whoa. Sorry.” Reading my emotions, he doesn’t press the issue and continues to drive to my offices. I have to take over control of them before tomorrow or they’ll remain in the hands of the board.

  “I want to strike as soon as we can. I’ve lived here my whole life. I know every nook and cranny inside and out. Besides, I have a little help.”

  “Who?” He raises his brow with a smirk on his face.

  “My mama.” She gave me information that’s exactly what I needed to get Giada into my arms. I’m surprised that my mother hasn’t found a way to leave herself. After all these years, she sticks around. If she wants out, I’ll take her with me as well.

  The entire ride back into the city, I concoct my pla
n to extract Giada. It’s going to take a small team to sneak in without being seen and bring her home. I send out a couple of messages and place a quick call.

  We pull up to my office building and park in the garage. My sign is gone from the usual spot, but that’s fine. I’ll have that replaced tomorrow. When I get inside, there’s a new guy at the desk. He looks at me and then back at Joey, who gives off the hired-muscle look even in an expensive suit. “How can I help you?”

  “By getting out of my way. This is my company.”

  “I’ve never seen you before. Do you have some ID?”

  “I’m going to try and be civil with you because you’re doing your job, but only this once.” Looking to Joey, I pass him my leather briefcase. “Hold this.” He takes it and then I pull out my wallet to dig out the ID and hand it to the guard.

  “Oh, sorry, Mr. Marchetti. Please don’t fire me,” he stammers.

  I tug on the cuffs of my dress shirt under my suit jacket and then look at his name badge. Leaning in, I lower my voice and say, “Jose, I’m not going to fire you for doing your job. I expect that diligence out of an employee, however now that we got that cleared up, I better not have a problem again.”

  “Not at all, sir.” He’s shaking as he allows me to pass, and rightfully so. I’m seeing red at the idea that no one in this building knows who I am. We take the elevator up to my main office floor and walk up to the receptionist.

  “Mr. Marchetti. Welcome back! It’s so good to see you,” she says. I look at her name plate because although her face is familiar, I forget her name.

  “Thank you. Are all the board members in the meeting room?” I ask Karen.

  I remember her briefly starting right before everything went to shit. “All but two. They are calling in, though, Mr. Marchetti. Would you like anything to drink?”

  “A bottle of water will do.”

  “Here you go,” Joey says, handing back my case. I smile to myself and then up to him because of what’s in here. They aren’t going to like me.