I’m just at the beginning.
It’s game on, Dad. It’s time for change.
I walk past Janet, my secretary, and nod at her. “Zack, I need a list of Seattle events, from the little to the biggest. Make sure to include the charity ones.”
“Shouldn't Janet take care of it?”
“Scusami?”Excuse me?I cock a brow at him.
“On it, Sir.” He turns around and leaves the office, undoubtedly aware that my expectations are non-negotiable.
I need to build strong connections, forge alliances with influential figures, before reaching who I want to. They fear us, whisper about our influence in hushed tones. Now, though, I want them to speak out loud. The game has begun, and I'm here to win.
Janet knockson the glass door and comes in. “Mail delivery, Sir.”
Looking up from my papers I see her new attire and I’m glad she has followed my rules. Taking the few letters she hands me, I sigh. Why don’t people use emails? Three invitations for a charity event makes me feel like winning the jackpot but the last one leaves a bittersweet taste in my mouth.
Peering at Nicholas’ wedding invitation, jealousy consumes me entirely. Knowing he and Leila are about to tie the knot, a surge of anger courses through me, the familiar ache of longing and regret twisting in my chest. I know the bastard sent it onpurpose, to throw in my face he gets whatever he wants. But I push the feelings aside, burying them beneath a facade of indifference while reading through the names on Dad’s payroll. I have more important things to focus on now, more pressing matters that demand my attention and I may have just found my gold ticket too.
CHAPTER 3
LEILA
As the days trickle by, the tension between Nicholas and me thickens like a suffocating fog. There are days when his demeanor shifts so abruptly, it's like he's a different person altogether. One moment, he's sweet and charming, and the next, he's distant and cold, his eyes filled with an intensity that sends shivers of terrors down my spine.
But it's when we're at home that his true colors emerge. The slightest provocation sets him off like a ticking time bomb, and I've learned the hard way to tread carefully around him. The air crackles with unspoken tension, and I find myself tiptoeing around him, afraid to set him off.
“You didn’t get the memo the first time, did you?” His voice slices through the air like a knife, sharp and unforgiving. My heart races as I peer around, lost and confused. The sting on my cheek sends a wave of pain shooting through my skull. I didn’t see it coming.
“I don’t know…” I mutter, my voice barely a whisper. But the rage in his eyes tells me that's not the answer he wants to hear. I shrink back instinctively, the fear coiling in my stomach like a nest of snakes.
“Try again, Leila,” he growls, his tone dripping with menace. “Come on, say it!”
“I don’t know, Nic—” I begin, but before I can finish, his hand connects with the side of my face with a force that sends me stumbling into the table, my head spinning with pain. I struggle to regain my balance, my heart hammering in my chest like a jackhammer.
“You’re a fucking liar!” he roars, his voice echoing off the walls of the room like thunder. He advances toward me, his footsteps heavy and menacing. “I heard you talking about him.”
“About who?” I manage to choke out, my voice trembling with fear as I desperately try to get on my feet and put some distance between us.
His response is swift and brutal. A sharp kick to my stomach sends me crashing back to the ground, the air forced from my lungs in a painful rush. I curl into a ball, coughing and gasping for air, tears streaming down my cheeks as I pray silently for it to end. “Christopher,” he snarls, his eyes blazing with fury as he looms over me like a vengeful god. “Why are you so obsessed with him?”
I try to speak, to plead for mercy, but the words catch in my throat as fear clenches its icy fingers around my heart. I retreat further into the corner, my whole body trembling with terror.
The force of his anger leaves me reeling, my mind spinning with confusion and disbelief. But there's no mercy in his gaze, no hint of remorse for the pain he's inflicted. Instead, he fixes me with a cold, steely stare, his lips curled into a cruel sneer.
“If you mention Chris's name again,” he hisses, his voice dripping with malice, “you’ll regret the day you were born.”
I want to flee, to escape the suffocating grip he has on me, but I feel trapped, like a bird with clipped wings. When Mr. Bonetti enters the room, his expression grim and forbidding, I know that escape is futile.
“La puttana non ha ancora imparato la lezione?”The slut hasn't learned her place yet?Mr. Bonetti's words slice through the heavy silence like a sharpened blade, each syllable dripping with disdain and malice. My heart lurches in my chest, fear seizing hold of me like a vice as I'm desperate to make myself as small as possible.
“I’m trying to tame her,” Nicholas responds, his voice oozing with smugness and arrogance. He leans in closer, his eyes boring into mine with a predatory gleam.
“Ah, Leila dear,” his dad extends his hand. I take it and I get on my feet. “The more you fight, the more we enjoy it.” his tone mocking and cruel, sends a shiver down my spine, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I swallow hard, the taste of bile rising in the back of my throat as I struggle to find my voice. “Appartieni a noi,”You belong to us,Mr Bonetti continues, gesturing between himself and his son with a sweeping motion of his hand. “Whether you like it or not, you’re bound to Nicholas and me.”
“I’m not a dog,” I retort, my voice trembling with defiance. “I don’t belong to anyone.” But my words fall on deaf ears, drowned out by the cruel laughter that echoes through the room. I make a move toward the door, determined to escape this nightmare once and for all, but Nicholas blocks my path, his arms crossed over his chest in a show of dominance.
“You became our fuck toy the moment your dad wanted his debts paid,” he sneers, his lips curled into a contemptuous smirk.
