“Good of you to join us, Your Honor,” Maximus says. “Thank you for coming.”
“Mr. Silvestri,” the newcomer says with a nod. He places his briefcase on my father’s desk and removes an opulent fountain pen along with a sheet of paper. “If you would like to look over the license before we proceed?”
Maximus releases my arm and waves his hand in dismissal. I can’t help but notice he doesn’t remove the one by the juncture of my thighs. “The ceremony won’t take but a moment,” he says. “I’m eager to take my bride home.”
As if someone tossed a bucket of ice water on my father, he sputters and jabs a finger in Maximus’s direction. I flinch because of the slashing movement, and Maximus’s fingers tighten on my lower body. Is he warning me to stay still? I would if I could, since I have no desire for people to witness my fear.
“You have never expressed an interest in doing business with me, Silvestri, so taking Emilia doesn’t make sense.” My father inhales deep, and his cheeks inflate with air and more anger. “What could you possibly want with her?” He sweeps his gaze over me, and it takes everything inside me not to cringe. However, I’m not strong enough to meet my father’s enraged stare, and drop my head. “Everyone knows she’s ill. Are you really that much of a sick bastard you want her for no other reason than to have a plaything?”
Shame fills me, drowns me, suffocates me. Like smoke, it wraps around my body and permeates every inch of my skin and hair, entering my lungs to siphon the oxygen from them. A small wheeze escapes my lips, and my knees threaten to buckle.
“Breathe,donnaccia,” comes the low murmur. It’s so quiet I almost don’t hear it. Maximus’s voice releases me like a clamp loosened on a tourniquet, and blood, as well as oxygen, floods my body in a rush. I inhale through my nose while trying to maintain my composure, and the dizziness begins to recede. “Good girl,” he whispers. Maximus follows this encouragement with a stroke of his thumb across my belly. Then he repeats the command, and I obey again.
But the second time, I comply for myself—not him—to hear the velvety quality of his voice as it praises me.
Receiving a gentle word from the man who obviously hates me is baffling. But not more so than the pulsing of my sex. Maximus skimmed my mons a moment ago, and I haven’t been able to turn off the pleasant hum my body’s emitting. Now he’s caused the throbbing to intensify, and I press my thighs together to alleviate the unwanted sensation. I can’t be aroused by the very person who insulted and threatened me. I blame the titillation on my innocence or even ignorance, anything as long as it’s not the truth.
Or maybe I am really insane, since my sex dampened the second he threatened to fuck my mouth?
Maximus clears his throat and brings his voice back to a normal level, ending the moment of secrecy between us. “Why, Caruso?” He clicks his tongue in admonishment, and I catch the twitching of my father’s right eye. “Despite your sullied reputation, your heritage is impeccable, which means Emilia’s is as well. And she is beautiful, even in her brokenness.”
He makes me sound like fine china, a fragile vessel that’s been hurled to the ground and shattered into pieces. Perhaps he is correct, but there is no adhesive to be found, so becoming whole will never happen. The best I can do is stab the person who steps on me.
After all, glass can be dangerous, even more so when it’s nothing but shards.
Maximus brings his free hand to cup my breast, and I start to pull away but instantly freeze when he digs his fingers into my stomach and pain radiates in all directions. He fondles me through my nightgown, and my nipples harden, the ache between my legs growing. His hand on my belly relaxes, yet it’s no less possessive, and where there was once discomfort, now there’s heat. I want to attack him for making me respond, but instead I clench my teeth to keep from screaming in frustration. My body has betrayed me because of a couple minor touches.
And my mind would follow suit for a handful of kind words.
My father steeples his fingers, and a gleam enters his gaze. I know that look, and whatever follows will not be good. Not for me at least.
“You are correct,” he says. “There are few families that have purer bloodlines than mine, so maybe we can come to some type of agreement. What do you say?”
Maximus moves his hand to my other breast while maintaining the conversation like nothing is out of the ordinary. “I’m listening.”
My father wets his lips in hunger, and the action speaks of his ever-present greed. It doesn’t surprise me that he’s taking advantage of this hostage situation, using it for his gain. I have often likened him to a ferret due to his physical appearance and his insatiable appetite but for wealth, not food. His beady black eyes are always darting around as if searching for the best opportunity, and his nose is long and skinny and flares whenever the subject of money is brought up. It’s like he can smell it. Even now, he’s rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
“I’ve promised my daughter to another, but I am more than willing to give her to you…should you make it worth my while, Silvestri.” When Maximus doesn’t readily reject his proposal, my father continues. “Emilia was not born with a mental illness, so you don’t have to worry about that defect passing on to your heirs. The doctor said her erratic behavior is mostly due to her mother’s death, but he assured me Emilia wouldn’t harm herself during a pregnancy. She’s just prone to solitude and periods of sullenness, which is manageable as long as she’s not put in certain social situations.”
I can’t recall the gasp that leaves me, nor can I stop the roiling of my stomach. My abdominal muscles cramp with severity, eliciting a stabbing pain through my center. It always happens at the thought of my mother and her demise, and I doubt that’ll ever change, especially when she’s mentioned by my father like just now. However, that agony is now compounded with disbelief. My father sold me to someone, and I had no idea, no inkling this was taking place. Was it Rossi? When was this going to happen?
I’ve never harbored illusions about my role in my father’s house, since he’s made that abundantly clear from the beginning, emphasizing it even more the closer I came to womanhood. But I hoped he’d given up on trying to find me a husband when I entered a year of mourning, after my actions at the gala almost two years ago. I knew it was an excuse for my unhinged behavior, but when no one offered marriage after the twelve months had passed, I thought I’d been successful in avoiding matrimony because everyone believed me to be insane. Of course, I’m the only one who knew my outburst was a ploy. Although, I suspect I’ll always be haunted by the events in my past, so the assumption isn’t completely inaccurate.
With my deception I wanted to buy myself some time to figure out a way to escape my father’s clutches or to encourage him to disown me and remove me from his house, like Carina’s father did to her. She’s my only friend, and I met her at the gala two years ago. But now my window for planning and eventual freedom has closed. It has slammed in my face, and in front of an audience no less. Wherever humiliation doesn’t cover me, rage is more than able to.
Like a sword that’s not wielded, my anger does no damage to my enemy.
Caruso gestures to himself with a slight wave. “Clearly, I’m not mentally disabled like her. Women are the weaker sex, and she is a prime example.”
“Clearly,” Maximus repeats. “Who did you plan to give her to and at what cost?”
My father quickly rises to the bait, and I inwardly shake my head. Doesn’t he see who’s hunting him? Can’t he sense the danger lurking under Maximus’s calm exterior? There’s no pity to be found in me as I watch my father play directly into Maximus’s hands.
“To Rossi, and it was with the understanding I would obtain a spot within the Wolf Pack.”
Maximus’s hand stills with my nipple between his thumb and index finger. I resort to biting my lip to keep from making a sound. Whether that would be a cry or a groan, I cannot say.
“Interesting,” he says in a mild tone. It contrasts with how his body tensed against mine at Caruso’s words, but I’m not foolish enough to say otherwise. “Given the price, I am surprised Rossi agreed. I hadn’t realized the going rate for an insane whore was so high.”
