“Because he will check. If I don’t, both of us will pay the price.”
This place - thegamesat play…
I swallow. This is so far from the Cosa Nostra that I know.
There is no honor here. No bonds of family, friendship,loyalty.
I’ve spent a lifetime building those bonds, working to understand them so that one day, I might lead and be proud to do so.
Luc… Luc was right about this place. And it hurts to even think his name, so I shove it far down, pushing down that grief in my chest.
I’m out of my depth. And if I don’t tread carefully, I am not the one who’ll suffer for it. So I lay there, and I listen.
“Salvatore – he plays games.” Stefano tugs at my wrist before he moves on to the last one. “You need to know that. Emotional torture is his favorite method. He’ll put you on edge, keep you there for as long as possible until it feels as though your mind will snap from fear of what will happen, andwhen.”
The bed sinks beneath me, and I jerk as his hand brushes my breast. He murmurs an apology as he peels the material back, ignoring my hiss at the sting and leaning in to examine the brand he placed on my skin.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I can’t push him away, not with my fucking hands tied. “It needs treatment. And this way, you can’t fight with me over it.”
He ignores my glower. The door slams shut behind him, and I’m left alone.
Silence. The brand throbs.
I will be forever scarred by the time I spend here, no matter how short. Or… how long.
I swallow. Swallow again, as the lump in my throat expands.
Alessia.
The ceiling above my head blurs.
Luc.
My cheeks are wet.
Bea.
Pepe.
My breathing begins to shudder, my throat tight with a sharp ache.
Dom.
Dante.
Gio.
Gio. I blink, my head turning towards the door. When Stefano walks back in, a first aid kit in his hands, I interrupt before he can speak. “I need you to do something for me.”
He says nothing as he walks toward me, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I told you. I can’t help you.”
His voice is… tired.
“Not that. I need you to send Gio a message.”
Dark eyes fix on mine. “What kind of message?”
