Luc. Broken and bleeding on the ground.
Dante and Gio, forced to obey or watch me be punished for their defiance.
And Dom… I press my lips together. Salvatore hasn’t mentioned Domenico in his gloating. Where is he? What plan does Matteo have for him?
I’m sorry, Dom. I’m so sorry.
As for myself… that understanding begins to sink in.
They behave for my sake.
I behave for hers.
Submit.
Our only hope is for them to find Alessia, to find my daughter and get her away from Matteo, to give us a fighting chance. To givemea fighting chance.
Because I can’t truly fight back until they do. My hands are shackled as tightly as the iron currently wrapped around them.
Until then… I swallow.
Caterina Asante.
And the knowledge that sits beneath that name, the knowledge of what is to come amidst the uncertainty… my hands, my legs, begin to shake.
For her, I will do it. I will keep my head high, and I will take whatever they throw at me. I will survive, and I will end them for what they have done to us.
Fuck the Asante name.
The now-familiar chant sounds in my head, as the car slows. Stops. I cling to the thought, cling to who I am as the door opens smoothly.
I’m a fucking crow. No matter what name they try to give me.
I am Caterina Corvo.
And I will not scream.
Day 0 – Caterina
The barking is the first thing that registers as Salvatore drags me from the car, his hand gripping my upper arm when I stumble, the sharp stones digging into the pads of my bare feet. My heels have vanished, lost in the struggle and left in the car behind me as I look up.
Dozens of dogs, leashed and vicious-looking, stroll the perimeter of the metal-gray fortress that rises above us. Each controlled by equally vicious-looking men in black with guns strapped to their chests.
There is no softness, no decoration. Nothing that conveys any sense of home about the building in front of me.
Just those endless gray walls that rise up into the air; small, narrow windows built in at irregular intervals.
It looks like a prison. I stare up, expressionless, as Salvatore brushes my hair back. His breath grazes my throat. “Welcome home, Caterina.”
The men standing around us glance at me quickly before looking away. There’s curiosity there, but they say nothing as Salvatore steers me to where a woman waits, flanked by two faceless soldiers.
She smiles at Salvatore, red lips stretching into a purr. “A new arrival. Who do we have here?”
There’s only ice in her eyes as she looks at me. Her black hair tumbles in neat curls down either side of her face, pale skinned and elfin. She looks a little older than I am, but impossible to know for sure. She glances back at Stefano, a question unvoiced on her pursed lips.
“Cecile, this is Caterina. My wife.”
The woman blanches. There’s actual jealousy in her eyes, her lip curling up as she scans me again, this time wary. “I see.”
