“Brando,” I said, knowing we only had a little time left. “I need to talk to Violet.”
He ordered one of Rocco’s men to fetch her. She flew through the door not long after, hugging me so tight that we hit the wall.
“Rosaria told me.” She hugged me even tighter.
I pulled away, forcing her to look at me. “I’m going to be fine.” I glanced at Brando. His eyes started to dilate again. “Brando, can you give us a minute?”
He didn’t want to, but whatever he saw on my face convinced him to agree. He stepped outside, and I collapsed on the chair in front of the vanity.
Violet knelt on one knee in front of me and took my hands in hers. “You’re freezing.”
I nodded. “I need to tell you things, Violet.”
She searched my eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I need you to be my confessor.”
“Like a priest?”
“Like a best friend.”
“I’ve always been—”
“I know.” I squeezed her hands. “I can’t tell Brando these things, or he’ll go berserk. I can feel it. He’s on the edge. I amhisconfessor. But I needed someone to hear—”
“You have me.”
“I never wanted this, Violet. I never wanted any of it. I wanted to stay home, go to school to become a teacher. I wanted to marry the man of my dreams—Brando Fausti. And I wanted to live in the house on Snow with him and have his babies. I wanted to dance for myself, for him, however and whenever I wanted. The way you saw me dance in Paris was supposed to be for him only. This is what has come of it. This is not me!”
She wiped away a stray tear that ran down my cheek.
“This is not me,” I whispered. “If, for some reason, I can’t remember—when I come out, remind me. Tell him what I’m telling you. Don’t let me forget.”
“I swear to you.” She kissed my hand. “But why do you think you’ll be different?”
“I’m in love with a beast, but he’s no monster. Not to me. I know the difference well enough.”
She helped me dress, and then secured the mask behind my ears. I covered myself in the cloak hanging next to the bag. Olivier seemed to think of everything. The outfit was his fantasy of me.
A knock came at the door. Rocco peeked his head in a second later.
“Shall we?”
I took a deep breath. “We shall.”
Brando was right beside the door, glaring at the men his family sent to keep watch. Most of them were his cousins, more than likely.
Taking his arm, I felt the tremble down to his bone, and I squeezed in return, trying to absorb some of it for my own. An entourage of at least twenty men that I didn’t recognize, men that belonged to thefamiglia, accompanied us down a long, dim hallway.
A man led the group to a door with a security code. We all filed in, and if my determination hadn’t been at level red, I would have collapsed. A steel cage serving as an elevator waited in the center of the dark room. It was the only thing illuminated. Pulsating music floated up from below.
I felt, more than heard, the deep tremble in Brando’s chest—a cross between a growl and a cry.
“She is here now!” Rocco snapped. “Nowhere to run. Give them a minute!”
The twenty or so filed out, except for Rocco, who waited in the steel cage, giving us a moment of privacy.
Brando went to remove my cloak, but I brushed his fingers away. “No,” I said. “You don’t need to see. I’m not naked, I promise.”
