My stomach heaves.I’ve seen her a few times, always at Syndicate auctions.She works at the Crimson Velvet, Shelby and Tommy’s sex club.
“You’ve been spying on me?”I spit the words at my father, fury momentarily overriding the devastation clawing at my chest.If he has this image now, it’s logical to assume that’s because he’s been recording Shelby and me for a while.
He ignores my accusation entirely.“The point here is that you’re holding on to an illusion.Your dear husband never really cared for you.Or he wouldn’t have moved on this quickly.”
I stare at the screen, watching Shelby’s hands grip the blonde’s hips the same way they gripped mine.Watching his face contort in pleasure, the same way it did when he was inside me.
Every fucking time he was inside me.
“I don’t believe you,” I hear myself say.
I won’t let my father know how much he’s hurting me.But he’s sown doubt, and the damage is done.
The walls I spent years building brick by careful brick, the ones Shelby had been slowly dismantling with his touch, his false hope, and broken confessions, slam back into place with brutal force.
This is why I built a fortress.I was right to protect myself.This was always going to end badly for me.The voice in my head sounds tired.Resigned.As if loving Shelby Boyle was just another form of setting myself up for failure.
Except, this time it might mean my utter destruction.
I designed those drones.I built that surveillance system for my family.And now they’ve used my own creation to show me my husband fucking another woman hours after my disappearance.
“Ready to come to your senses?”Giovanni’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts.“Give us the information we need.Tell us where you’ve hidden the evidence, what the Boyles know about our operations.Make this easy on yourself.”
I consider it.
My heart is in pieces.My body aches.My soul has been hollowed out and filled with ash.What’s the point of fighting anymore?Shelby has already moved on.My marriage was always an illusion.
Then Lucia Rossi’s smile surfaces in my memory.
Twelve years old.Bright eyes full of curiosity.I want to make apps that help people, Serena.You think I could do that?
The manifest listed her as “Specimen 847.”Estimated value: $450,000.Preferred use: domestic servitude, initial processing.Last notation: six months ago.
I don’t know what happened to her after that.I don’t even know if she’s alive.But I know there are thousands more like her in those documents I’ve gathered.
This isn’t about Shelby or me.This is a war to save women and children.
I lift my eyes to meet my father’s gaze and spit the words, “Over my dead body.”
The slap comes fast.Pain explodes across my cheek.My head snaps to the side.The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth where my teeth cut the inside of my lip.I don’t utter a peep.
“You will respect me.”Giovanni’s voice is low, dangerous.“I am still your fucking father.”
I turn my head slowly back to face him, showing him the defiance in my eyes.The contempt.The absolute refusal to break.
“You stopped being my father the moment you put a price tag on a twelve-year-old girl.”
A murderous fury flickers across his features.Then he stands, his movements jerky with barely contained rage, and storms toward the door.
“Don’t hurt her,” he throws over his shoulder at Cesare.“I still need her alive and functional.”
The door slams behind him.
And I’m alone with the monster.
Cesare moves slowly, deliberately, savoring the moment.His footsteps echo against the stone floor like a countdown to something terrible.
“Your wish is my command,principessa,” he murmurs, his voice like silk draped over broken glass.
