Tools - his sons. He used them only to the extent that they bolstered his business, and from what Natalia had told me about her and Savio’s childhood, Angelo must have used torture to break Savio into doing what he wanted.
Money and the next leg up — Lucia and my family. On Gianni’s will, our families were attempting to forge, at least that was what we believed. Something had gone wrong, Gianni ended up dead, followed shortly thereafter by my parents. Angelo showed my family, his future family by extension due to Lucia’s blood-engagement to Romeo, no honor at all. We were captured and Antonio was killed.
Pleasure.
I glanced down at Natalia and that word rang over and over in my mind like a record on repeat. “Natalia,” I said quietly, but the rage was already boiling in my body. “Did he take you?”
“He tried.” Her voice was no louder than a whisper. Tears continued to leave streaks between her foundation down her cheeks and she was shaking under my hold. “I fought though. The hardest I’ve ever fought in my life. I didn’t want my own father…” She sniffled in. “I didn’t want to lose my virginity to him.”
My skin prickled, and suddenly none of the pain on my body mattered much to me. The anger that was raging through my blood was stronger than I expected. I was disgusted, but it was so much more than that. Natalia was someone who had cared for me, who, whether reluctantly or otherwise, I was starting to care for. Maybe it was already deeper than I realized because if I had any more strength in my body, I’d be bolting out of the room looking for Angelo myself. Things like death and torture seemed too good for him, and if he didn’t even care about his family, I had no idea how I would hurt him the way he hurt others.
But I would.
I wanted to personally be the reason his reign of terror over his family and mine ended. I wanted to look Angelo in the eyes and shoot him right between them and watch his body bleed out and decompose. Even then, I wouldn’t feel like I’d caused him enough agony. I wanted him to hurt for centuries after I was gone. If I could wish for any power from God, it would be for the ability to torture Angelo Cavetti in this lifeandthe next. He was a devil in devil’s clothing.
I wanted him gone.
“After that,” Natalia continued. “I went and found this random kid. I mean, I knew him from school, he wasn’t a complete stranger. But if my dad tried it again, if I couldn’t fight him off again, I didn’t want to be a virgin, so I let that boy take it. We never spoke of it again. It was the only thing I could think to do.” She sniffled in. “I’ve read stories and seen movies of these women who get to lose their virginity in really romantic, sensual ways, and mine was just a Hail Mary to keep it from my dad. I guess it was a good thing. He never tried again after that. Maybe he could tell, I don’t know.” She suddenly gasped and then looked at me with panicked eyes. “You can’t tell Savio, okay? Please. If you did, I have no idea what he’d do. He could haul off and kill Angelo.”
Suddenly, I felt like the world was too good for Natalia. Even after everything, she was still worried about her father’s life.
A devil created an angel.
“I won’t,” I said, although it was the best idea I’d heard come out of any Cavetti mouth yet.
I didn’t think I could hate Angelo Cavetti more, but as I held onto a shaking and terrified Natalia, I was pushed even further past my breaking point. It was no longer a matter of if I would kill Angelo Cavetti.
It was simply a matter of how.
11
Natalia
The question confused me the first time I heard it.
“When will you be back?”
Giorgio was looking at me through desperate, longing eyes and watching me as if he thought I was going to break. I had no intentions of divulging as much to him as I did, but something about the fact that he sat next to me and comforted me made me feel like I could. More than that, I felt better. I’d never said the words out loud before, and it was almost like sharing them with Giorgio was allowing someone else to bear part of the burden, or rather, he lifted the burden entirely.
But I didn’t expect him to ask me so sweetly when I’d return.
“Um... ” It was all I could think to say.
I’d just finished packing his old, bloody clothes into a garbage bag and was now sitting and tending carefully to his back wounds. He’d tried to convince me not to, knowing how it got to me before, but the consideration was sweet enough and helped ease the pain.
“I know I’m just some Bonifacio, but…”
“No,” I replied. “I don’t think that. I think you’re Giorgio.”
“Gio,” he replied. “My siblings and my parents, they called me Gio as a nickname. You can too if you want.”
Where was the sudden influx of kindness coming from. Giorgio hadn’t struck me as an emotional man, in fact, his apathy towards most of what had been going on was borderline frightening. He’d displayed sadness when he didn’t have enough control over his body not to, and I’d certainly seen him angry, but tender Giorgio — he was a dangerous man indeed.
“Okay, Gio,” I said. “Savio calls me Nat.”
Giorgio let out a little chuckle. “Nat Gio. It’s like we belong together.” I stopped working on his back for a moment and he stiffened. He looked back over his shoulder at me. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I said that. Forget that I said that.”
I smiled. “No.”
