“Send her back to Chicago where Cavanagh is? That seems like a good idea to you?” Steffano looks down his nose at me. “Just gives her more time to whore herself out.”
“We can make it so she doesn’t leave the apartment for any reason. There will be no way for Cavanagh to get to her. You can keep her phone so she cannot contact him.” Dad so helpfully interjects.
Steffano drops my phone in front of me. I could reach out and grab it, but instead I let it fall to the floor, not knowing if the case protects it or not.
“She can have her phone, but I’ll be reading the messages, Leticia. I’ll be reading the messages, and you’d better be able to explain everything you say to him. If you’re ‘just friends,’ then there shouldn’t be any reason for me to punish you when I come to Chicago next month.”
“I understand.” I nod and don’t argue.
“Send her back to Chicago,” Steffano huffs and storms out.
“I told you not to disgrace us.” Dad is seething, his face red. He steps over to me, pulls his arm back, and smacks my face, the slap seeming to echo in the small room as the pain shoots through me.
“Nothing happened between Royal and me.” I raise my hand to my cheek.
With the way his temper rages, I’m not even shocked that he hit me. I expect worse. But I stay strong in my conviction. Berto said they can’t prove anything happened between us.
“Get out of my sight. You are a disgrace to the family.” Dad waves me off.
Berto grabs my phone off the floor and hands it to me beforepulling me to my feet and wrapping his arm around me, practically dragging me through the house and out to the cars.
He pushes me into the passenger seat of one and slams the door behind me.
“You didn’t even make it a whole week,” Berto mutters once he’s sitting in the driver’s seat of the sports car. “I would have thought you’d at least be good enough at being a wife to make it a week.”
“In my defense, he hasn’t had any of my cooking.” I try to joke with my brother but anticipate it going over poorly. Berto was fun once, but I don’t know if he can be anymore.
“No, I suppose not.” Berto sighs. The car engine rumbles as he pushes the button. “You’re welcome for saving you from both Dad and Steffano.”
I nod and stay silent. A bruising grip to the chin and a smack to the face are hardly the worst either of them has done. I’ll be grateful for Berto even though my mind is already rushing someplace else.
I want to know if I can check my phone, if I can still contact Royal. But I know better. I just failed at the one job I’ve been trained my whole life to do: be a perfect, obedient wife. And now I’ve got to prove to them that I’m worth keeping around. I’ll need to work on getting back to the girl I was before Royal. Even if it kills the woman I became.
47
ROYAL
SCARIER THAN THAT
Leticia stopped answeringmy messages two days ago. One day ago, I got a notification that there was movement in Casa D’Medici, and Leticia moved back into her parents’ penthouse. It was a relief from the sickening dread and obsessive attempts at finding a way into Steffano’s network. His security is good, I’ll give him that, but I had been close when she’d arrived home.
She has her cell phone. I’ve seen her carry it around. I’ve watched as I’ve messaged her, and she seemingly reacts to it.
But she never messages me back. I’ve tried calling too. Knowing that she’s alone in their penthouse, she should have no reason not to answer.
Something happened to Leticia in Italy, but I can’t figure out what.
“Royal.” A soft knock comes from the top of the stairs. “It’s time for dinner and presents.” Antonella beckons me to come up from my lair.
Presents. I wrapped mine while waiting for messages back from Leticia. I take all but the one I bought for Leticia upstairs with me, wishing for one little message back.
I send off one final message for the night.
Royal:
Merry Christmas, Leticia.
It’s read almost instantly,and I spare another glance up at the monitor. Leticia is staring at her phone, fingers poised like she’s going to respond. Instead, she tosses her phone on her bed before flopping back and looking up at the ceiling.
