It had been over a week since I’d been imprisoned in that God-forsaken cell. Nothing felt real anymore. It was as though I was trapped in a nightmare, without anything to take my mind off the situation. There was nothing to do but consider what had happened and to relive it in my mind over and over again. It didn’t matter how often I tried to focus on other things. It never worked.
Then, there was the torturous agreement that Marcello had come up with. It made me increasingly uncomfortable, placing my fingers in my mouth while he watched as I ate made me cringe internally. Still, it was the only option to see my sister and feel her warm arms around me. I never thought I’d need a hug so badly until I was trapped in that situation. I looked forward to it, as though it was a drug.
Seeing Marcello had an impact on my body that I tried to sequester to the back of my mind. There was no doubt that he was an attractive man. He was tall, with dark features that any woman would swoon over. Then there were his blue eyes, which were piercing. They reminded me of the waters back in Italy, crystalline blue.
His confidence was overpowering, but it was a strange confidence. It was as though he didn’t realize he was attractive, but knew that he was well built. He could easily defeat most people I’d ever met, and it was that demeanor that scared me. It also caused me to feel a warmth between my legs when he was watching me, making me feel as though I was slowly being set on fire.
I leaned my head against the pillow and stared up at the gray cement above, watching as a moth swept back and forth against the light bulb dangling from the ceiling. The thought of breaking the light bulb and using it as a weapon had passed through my mind on more than one occasion. I knew better. I didn’t want to die in that chamber like an animal. I knew that if I did something so brash that I’d be beaten or shot. They had, after all, gunned my parents down without a second thought.
I wished I could have talked to Alessandra about what was happening with Marcello—she would know what to do. She was, after all, more explorative than I was when it came to sexuality. She was more open and understanding. I, on the other hand, felt uncomfortable with even the slightest touch. I had never been as outgoing as she was. She’d actually had a boyfriend at one time, and I hadn’t even been on a date, despite the fact that we were identical twins.
She would know how to interpret the way he made me feel. I wasn’t sure how to describe it. It was a restlessness that left me wondering what he was up to. Still, having his blue eyes on me, watching my every move was strangely intense. I could almost feel them on me in that moment, as though I wanted him to be there, staring at me, not wanting to miss a thing. I was simply eating, as he dictated what I should eat next, or how to eat it. It was simple, and it should have been something that didn’t feel too strange. But it was that glint he’d get in his eyes. It made me uneasy, and yet…
I just wanted to ask Alessandra all of the questions showing up in my mind. It was difficult to guess how Lucia was, as I hadn’t heard from her during my time in the cell. I hadn’t even heard her name mentioned. For all I knew she was dead, too. Then there were my brothers. God only knows what happened to them. They were the last Bonifacio men, which made them the biggest targets for a man like Angelo Cavetti.
My heart shattered at the thought, and I felt like crying again. I wasn’t sure how many tears I’d shed since being trapped in that room but it had been more than I’d ever cried in my life. I was sure that I could swim in the amount of tears I’d shed over the past week.
The thought of them all being hurt, or scared, drove me mad. There was nothing I could do. There was no way to help them. I was trapped and, for all I knew, they were being tortured or killed. I tried to push the image of my brothers being shot out of my head, but I could see Angelo ordering his grunts to do it. He’d enjoy it, too.
I leaped at the sound of footsteps nearing my door. I wasn’t sure if it was going to be Marcello or another one of their goons. There was no telling who would deliver my food. I wasn’t even sure if it was dinner. I’d been given food earlier and there had been eggs, but whether it was an hour, or six hours, that had passed since then was beyond me. I dreaded the thought of it being Romeo returning to harass my sister and sliding the small peephole open so that I could hear her cries.
I felt sick at the memory.
The anxiety was riddling my entire body, causing my heart to feel as though it would stop beating at any moment. If it was Marcello, I wasn’t sure what he would have in store. I was hoping that he would keep up our unspoken agreement of allowing me to see my sister and upping the time whenever I did as he said. Every extra minute allowed me to hold her and speak to her, telling her that we’d make it through all of it okay. Even if he was there, watching us, I could still enjoy her company.
The world felt safer when we were in each other’s arms. It was as though we would make it out okay, so long as we had each other. I wasn’t going to let us fail or falter. We were Bonifacio’s and we could make it through anything.
Our father had been a tough man, and we’d had to deal with his short fuse, as well as the men that he surrounded himself with. Each day brought with it something new, something unanticipated that was dangerous. I had to believe that we could persevere, even in the face of feeling hopeless.
The footsteps drew closer and I heard the metallic hatch to the door slide open. The food arrived, still hot from the oven. It was finger food, as it usually was but it appeared a little different. usually, it was various kinds of meats but today, instead of sausages or steak with potatoes, it was chicken nuggets with fries. My stomach growled at the thought as I neared the food, my mouth watering. It felt as though I hadn’t eaten in days.
I felt his eyes on me the moment I began to move. He was silent, which was strange. Usually, he opened up our conversations with ahellooreat. He was a man of few words, but I appreciated it. I didn’t want to have a long conversation with one of the people that had helped kill my parents. Just get to the point, allow me to eat, and then let me see my sister. That was enough for me. It was like a schedule and I could handle that.
I was beginning to understand that Marcello enjoyed toying with me, in making me crave things I shouldn’t. It had all been because I’d wanted to see Alessandra. That was the way that it’d started, but things had been gradually becoming more intense between us. It was undeniable. There was a chemistry, but there was also a power dynamic, and he loved it.
The moment it appeared through the slit in the door, my stomach knotted. My assumptions were right. I wasn’t sure if he was going to up the stakes for what we were doing, but in seeing that second plate, there was no doubt in my mind that he had other pleasures he wanted to see. He was pushing my boundaries, and I could tell that he was just waiting for me to react.
I wasn’t sure what to do. I stiffened, each of my limbs feeling as though they were being weighed down, especially as he watched my every move with bated breath.
On the plate was a toy and not just any toy. It was one I’d seen online, but never in person.
Did he expect me to react? I was confused. He didn’t allow me to see my sister the previous day, and I didn’t want to do what he wanted. I knew that refusing him would be even worse. I just wanted to see her and console her. Romeo was a monster, but I had the feeling that Marcello might be different. He put on the facade of being an average Cavetti son, but he was different. There were times when he’d look away when I was crying, or ask me questions, showing that he cared.
But that was before I saw the toy. He was playing with me, and he was waiting for something to happen. I didn’t know what that was. I brought my eyes to his and decided that I would wait, too. I needed to hear an explanation from him. I had no idea what he expected from me.
6
Marcello
She stared at the toy with wide eyes, her mouth nearly falling open, then raised her eyes to meet mine. That was exactly the reaction I’d predicted. Everything about her so far had convinced me that she was virginal, especially compared to her sister. Her reaction to the toy only solidified my original belief. It was a definite turn on, and I had to stop myself from urging her to use it right away. I knew that forcing her wasn’t something that I liked. It was better for her to enjoy it on her terms.
Knowing that I could introduce her to new experiences stirred something in me. I liked the idea of teaching her what true desire was, and that there was beauty in being pleasured. Toys allowed us to have little contact while still giving me the power.
She grimaced slightly, which caused the dimple on her left side to deepen. Chiara brushed back her long brown hair and brought her eyes to mine, unsure of what to do next. She was waiting for me to say something. I had her exactly where I wanted her. I just had to wait, get her comfortable with the idea of it, before pushing her. Sometimes, it just takes a little patience. Give them the room to act, and they’ll make the decision. None of it had to be forced. I didn’t want it to be.
I wondered for a moment if I should go through with it. It would be such a turn-off if she was afraid of the situation. Her expression wasn’t giving me much to go on. It was a mix between disbelief and surprise, but if there was even so much as a chance that she was afraid, it ruined everything. I wasn’t like my brother—I didn’t like having women be afraid of me. I wanted her to want me, and to want to participate. Starting it off with allowing her to see her sister was phase one, but there was a chance that she wouldn’t be receptive to this new, elevated phase.
I held the remote in my hand and watched as she lifted it from the tray. She held the small round shape in her slender fingers and peered at it as though she was inspecting it. I was sure that she would know what it was, but there was a quizzical expression across her face that convinced me she’d never seen one before. It surprised me.
