“That keening you hear ringing through the US and Europe are the high-pitched wails of the countless women who have just learned that their idol, Dario Toscano, is officially off the market.
Toscano, a well-known restaurateur and nightclub owner, made an appearance last night at the Boston Institute of Contemporary Art’s annual fundraiser with his lovely new bride, Cora Thorne, daughter of US Senator Carlton Thorne. There’s no announcement yet from the Toscano camp or from Cora’s family.
We’ll keep you posted as more information becomes available.”
Dario is a popular, super-hot playboy type and gets coverage from TMZ. Who have I married?
Shaking my head, I close my laptop and head outside. If my parents didn’t know I was back before, they certainly do now.
Chapter Seventeen
In which we meet the family and buzz the Statue of Liberty.
Cora…
One week later…
Dario is cunning, and persistent. When I resisted going out in public, he was unhappy until I pointed out my black eye and the bruises on my throat, and the bandages on my wrists.
“You and I know what happened here, but you know everyone's assumption will go to the most obvious conclusion,” I pointed out.
He looked concerned for a moment and then deeply offended. “I have never hit a woman. At least, not unless she asked for it.” While he doesn’t offer details about his… his Dom doings, there are enough offhand mentions for me to know he’s been this way for a while.
He places his hand under my chin and lifts it carefully. “You’re healing so well; can you cover this up?”
I can’t help laughing. “Yeah, then I’m wearing heavy makeup and going out in public, obviously trying to cover bruises. Same conclusion and not good for your image.”
“Our image,” he corrected absently, still looking me over with an alarming degree of thoroughness.
“What do you mean?”
Here’s the devilish smile. “Are you forgetting that I’ve seen you in action,Bellissima?You’re no fragile flower to accept abuse. I know any man who dares to hurt you ends up with his head blown off.” He frowns when I cringe.
“Too soon to joke about it?” he asks with a ridiculous amount of solicitude. He kisses my hand lingering, “My poor little petal, what have I done, you sweet thing, you-”
“Stop it!” I’m laughing and also horrified because I am laughing about people getting their heads blown off. “I’m going to hell for finding people being shot hilarious.”
“Baby, I’ve got the corner suite already picked out,” he croons, his thumb stroking my skin.
I’m winding down from the last of my horrified laughter and he still has his finger on my chin, looking down at me. He hasn’t kissed me since the abduction, hasn’t even touched me, really. Certainly not sexually. Do I disgust him now?
It doesn’t matter. He’s still the man who forced me into this marriage and dragged my extremely unwilling self here.
“Since we can’t take you out in public, I have another option,” he said. “I’ll be back around six, I want you to be ready.”
“What is your evil plan?” I ask, never sure what Dario might think is a good idea. But he’s already out the door.
Dario…
The grand opening of Deconstructed is only five days away and I shouldn’t be away from Boston, but Cora desperately needs to get out of the penthouse. She’s used to being on the run, it will take some time before settling in the same place doesn’t cause her so much anxiety.
She’s waiting as ordered in the hall right at six, and she may be trying for a look of bored speculation, but I know she’s excited, shifting from foot to foot.
“Wait, where are we going?” she asks. I take her hand and pull her to the back entrance.
“Your ride is there,” I said, gesturing to the helicopter resting on the landing pad on top of the roof.
“Of course,” she laughs. “You have your $75 million dollar jet, so a helicopter is nothing, right?”
