Alessandra
He was getting frustrated. I was never allowed to see his expression, but his voice was enough of a giveaway. I smiled to myself, finding it hilarious that he was growing angrier with each note that passed through my lips. I didn’t care. I wanted to push him. I wanted to see how far I could push him until he blew. This was the most power I’d held over anyone in months. I had allowed them to destroy the person I was, and it was enough to cause anyone to crack. I needed even just a little leverage—anything.
I broke out into song again, and my voice was stronger and harsher than before. I wasn’t sure why he wanted me to sing “Amazing Grace,” but I didn’t question it. The issue? I didn’t begin singing the song he wanted, even after he removed the tape as hard as he had. I didn’t care. I began to sing a song from my childhood, one that resonated with how I saw myself at that moment. I began to sing “Fighter” again. I was sending a message, and he wasn’t having any of it.
I was taking back my power, and it felt damn good. I wanted him to suffer. This was nothing compared to what my family had suffered through, but I hoped it bothered him, at least. I was desperate to hear his anger and feel his frustration. It was my only method of rebelling against him. He was using me as his puppet, and I was no one’s marionette. I was tired. I hated them all, and this was the only small thing I could do, especially for myself. Even if it meant getting hit, raped, or killed, it was worth it. I just wanted him to know how frustrated I was, and my voice was my only weapon.
Through the blindfold, I felt him glare at me in frustration. I imagined his teeth grinding and his tongue rolling in his mouth. Only God knew what was going through his mind at that moment. I could almost feel the heat of his anger blowing at my face, and in truth, it scared me enough that my chest tightened, but I didn’t care. If this was going to be the last control I had over my life, then so be it.
I sang as loud as I could. It wasn’t until I felt his hands in my hair and blinked against the moonlight that I stopped singing. He had ripped the blindfold off and thrown it to the ground. His expression was tense. I could feel his anger from where I stood, strapped to the pole. A nervous fear grew in my stomach as he stared into my eyes. I averted mine, glancing around the place where he’d taken me. It looked like a garage or a shed. It didn’t look like anyone else had been there in a while, and honestly, I doubted if anyone would want to be in there for any reason. The place was an abandoned wreck.
Where were they keeping me?
I’d considered it so many times, but I hadn’t been able to figure it out. Even the building he’d brought me to, this shed-like, dirty structure, gave me no answers. Long gray walls surrounded us, letting the disconcerting sound of crickets afar and nearby in, and the moonlight wavered through a nearby window that was caked in grime. It’d been weeks since he’d started stealing me away from that room to have me sing to him.
If there was a way to escape, I wouldn’t be able to tell from that room. I couldn’t even see out the window to make a guess at my surroundings. Why have me blindfolded once I was there? It was almost impossible to see anything in the darkness of the shed. The moonlight only illuminated so much, and there was nothing around me that gave me any ideas as to where we were. I couldn’t even do anything with my hands tied above my head. Even trying to move was difficult enough. I couldn’t fathom how long it would take me to tear my hands from the rope.
I wanted to save Chiara and take her away with me. I didn’t want her to deal with Marcello any longer. She deserved better. I wasn’t sure if upsetting Savio would bring me any closer to saving my twin, but it certainly made me feel better. I knew that they were messing with us, and I hated them even more for it. If I could save her, in any way, even if it meant causing harm to myself, I would do it. She was worth it, and spending my days without her didn’t feel like I was living at all.
“Why are you defying me?” he asked, his face shadowed. “Do youwantme to hurt you?”
A pang of worry filled my chest. Would he actually hurt me? We’d spent days doing this strange ritual of his, and he hadn’t once been too rough with me. Even when he tied me up, he did so gently. I couldn’t picture him hurting me at all. I didn’t want to test my luck, but I also wanted to see him at the peak of frustration. I wanted him to mirror how I was feeling toward his own family. I wanted him to have a taste of what it felt like to have control taken out of your hands, to be forced to do things against your will. I wanted so much to see that feeling of frustration and powerlessness in his wickedly beautiful black eyes.
“What could you possibly do to me?” I asked him, surprised by my own words. “Your family has taken everything from me. There’s nothing you can do that will phase me.”
I meant it. He was taken aback by what I’d said. I didn’t want to sugarcoat it. I really didn’t care anymore. I just wanted to see them suffer as I had, and it felt as though I had nothing else to lose—as far as I was concerned, anyway. I still cared about whether or not they would hurt my siblings. I couldn’t bear the thought of Chiara getting hurt because of me. If he wanted to punish me, though, I was fine with that. I could withstand it.
My heart pounded in my chest as he stared me down. I didn’t feel safe, but I couldn’t back down. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning. I’d been through so much already, so I couldn’t let them get the upper hand. I wouldn’t break. It felt good to make a stand, even if it was causing my anxiety to skyrocket. I simply wanted to prove to him that I was stronger than what they were giving me credit for. I could almost hear Romeo’s mocking voice. I hated the way he’d made me feel so small and insignificant. I didn’t want to go through anything like that ever again.
I held my breath as he stepped toward me. I thought he would stop, but he kept nearing me. A feeling of weightlessness came over me as he brought himself so close to my face that I could feel his breath against my skin. His breath was minty, and his six o’clock shadow rubbed against my skin as he pressed his face past mine. His stubble was scratchy as it swept against my cheekbone. I tried to suppress the feeling, but it didn’t matter—butterflies entered my stomach as the intoxicating smell of his cologne filled my senses. A shiver ran up my spine, and it felt as though there was a fire being started in my stomach. I was warm all over, and he was the cause of it.
He stepped back languidly as his finger swept across my lips. I wasn’t sure if I was terrified or enraptured. I had no idea what he was planning to do. Despite the darkness and only the moonlight streaming in, I could see a glint in his eye. It was devious. I swallowed hard, regretting what I’d said. I was sure that I could handle him beating me, but I couldn’t go through with him taking advantage of my body. That might be what would cause me to break.
He inhaled sharply and dropped his finger from my mouth.
The trace of him was still there on my lips. I let out a deep breath, not realizing I’d been holding it. It was hard to keep my composure. I was warm all over, just from having him touch me. It had been different than I was used to. It was sensual. It was as though his touch had unlocked something, and I wanted him.
I breathed. In. Out. I needed to calm myself.
I was never good at calming myself in any situation. I always found that I needed to get it out of my system by singing. With Savio in front of me, singing had become a chore, a difficult chore, one that I didn’t want to delve into in front of him. He’d made it so that I was a stereo, always ready to sing him his favorite tune. It was the first thing since I had arrived at this place I hadn’t been expecting.
Just the fact that one of the Cavettis was interested in my voice in such an intense way was strange in itself. I’d never heard of anyone kidnapping someone and having them sing like Iago fromThe Lion King. Luckily, this was minus the skull and beatings.
Having him so close, him being so handsome, was overwhelming. I’d never been held so closely by someone that looked like him. I had to avert my eyes and forget where I was. There was an intense sensation that swept through my body, a feeling that felt akin to hunger. I knew the only thing that could satiate me was the feeling of his skin against mine. It was as though I were being drugged, but it was my body’s natural reaction to him.
A wave of relief passed through me. His movements were quick as he blinked himself out of whatever thoughts were going through his mind. He lifted his hand toward my face again, and I heard the sound of the tape unraveling. It was a screeching sound that caused me to grind my teeth. I was about to protest having to have the tape across my lips, but before I could say a word, it was forced against my mouth.
He was silent as he went to work on his routine. The blindfold covered my eyes again, and he undid the rope around my wrists, only to tie it even tighter than before. The feeling returned to my hands as they dropped in front of me. Most days lasted longer, and my arms always felt like limp noodles. It was hard to do anything with them after singing for Savio.
He took my hands in his and led me through the shed. The cool air passed over my skin as he opened the door. His grip was tight as he brought me back toward where I was being held. I didn’t want to admit it, but that moment between us had been exciting. I could still sense his stubble against my cheekbone as though it had imprinted there. I tried to push it aside, even as his warm hands clasped mine.
I had to keep reminding myself—he was the enemy.
He opened a door, and from the faint creak, I recognized the sound and knew it was the door to my cell. He nudged my arm, and I entered. I didn’t need my eyes to move safely around there. I knew every inch of the room. I sat on my bed and waited for him to untie me, but he didn’t. He didn’t move. He remained at the door, looking at me.
A moment passed, and Savio finally stepped in and untied my hands. He didn’t bother to help me with the blindfold and the tape on my lips. He knew I’d be able to do that myself once I had regained motion in my hands. As he motioned out the door, he stopped again at the entrance and turned. I heard his lips pop like he wanted to say something, but he decided not to. Finally, he grabbed the knob and pulled the door shut behind him as he left.
