I glance over my shoulder to where he sits behind me, his gray, storm-filled eyes locked on me. Luc and Stefano sit with him, and the tension that comes from them is palpable. Even Luc looks tense, despite the jovial veneer on his face, the casual way he lounges in his chair.
I wonder how much of what I’ve seen from him tonight is an act.
Stefan catches my eye, holding it.
Whirring sounds echo from behind us, and I turn as the screen comes to life.
The blood drains from my face.
There are no cameras in this room. Stefano’s words echo back to me, except that he waswrong.
The dual screen shows both my bedroom and bathroom.
Beside me, Salvatore picks up my hand. Traces each finger in turn.
I breathe in. Through my nose, and out through my mouth. When I try to turn, a hard hand grabs my chin, forcing me to watch.
Salvatore keeps his voice low. “Turn away, and I will shoot my nephew in the head.”
We watch in silence as I run back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
As I strip off that blue dress, leaving it in a crumpled heap before walking through and running the bath. The footage doesn’t speed up, showing every excruciating detail. Stefano walks into the room, and my heart thumps at the expression on his face as he sees my dress, the panic and thehopeas he rushes to the bathroom door, shoving it open.
They make us watch every second. Every second of that time we stole for ourselves. It’s stolen back, stolen and twisted and used for a spectacle topunishus as we sit in that dark room and watch.
Not a single part is left out.
I don’t know when I begin shaking. I can’t stop it, can’tcontrolit, the fear washing over me as my legs tremble uncontrollably.
There is no sound. Nothing but silence.
The screen wavers, weaving in and out of my vision. But I don’t look away.
When it finally ends, when that screen turns black, the only sound is the rushing in my ears.
I keep staring at that screen, as Salvatore stands. He walks in front of the screen, turning to face us. His pale blue eyes arebrighter than I have ever seen them. Alive with malice, with fury and a fucked-up delight as his eyes travel over each of us.
“Well, now.” Above us, overhead lights switch on, dazzling and blinding. “What do we do aboutthislittle situation?”
Day 44 – Stefano
Idid not expect to die today.
Beside me, Domenico’s face is twisted in horror. Luciano Morelli curses under his breath in savage Italian as I sit, frozen.
Tainted.
Of all the punishments he could have chosen, my uncle has truly excelled.
One night of loving her.
That’s all we fucking get. All we will ever have.
And he has stolen even that from us.
I should have checked the room again. Should have checked—
I’m out of my seat before Cat’s shuddering gasp registers. “Cat—,”
