“What’s it matter if you’re going to kill her anyway?” Matteo snarls, and then I hear it. A punch. Theooffollowed by the thud as Matteo drops to his knees.
“What the fuck?” Matteo bellows out, coughing and wheezing next to me. I can’t help the laugh that spills out of me. He thinks Bellino will allow him to go off half-cocked because he bought me in. Hell no, Bellino won’t trust him at all now. And why should he, the person he was meant to protect, me! He betrayed. He’ll be lucky if Bellino doesn’t kill him.
“Don’t kill him,” I rasp out.
“Ahh, Fiancée, you’re awake. How nice of you to join us,” I hiss as the blindfold is ripped off, snagging some of my hair.
“Motherfucker,” I grunt as I squint. The bright lights burn my retinas. The drugs and the blindfold leave me sensitive to the light. I curse under my breath. “Ahh, brother-in-law. So nice of you to invite me. Next time, a simple phone call should suffice.”
“Duly noted, Fiancée,” he spits. “There won’t be a next time, though I can assure you.” His features are harder than Vittorio’s, but so similar. He’s smaller but wider, more thug-looking than modelesque like Vittorio.
“We’ll see about that,” I rasp. My voice cracks from the screaming and possibly the drugs.
My head spins to see Matteo pushing up to stand beside me. “And you,” I spit.
He laughs. “How does it feel to know I was the last man you’ll remember feeling inside you and not that pathetic husband of yours?”
I bark a laugh. “Remember, I would have had to feel it to remember, but you and your shrimp dick were pathetic. Remember this, though: you chose to take something without consent. Something that wasn’t yours to take. Everything has a price, Matteo. You just cashed a check you can’t afford, and I will take great pleasure in making you pay. The things I have planned for you will break you more than you can imagine. So good luck with that.” I smirk at the fucker. I won’t allow him to see a moment of weakness in me. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
Bellino glares between us. Recognition falls across his face. His jaw tightens. His nostrils flare. The growl seems to start deep within. It echoes around his rib cage. His body groans as it’s forced out. The energy evicted rattles the walls at the three words he spits, thundering out of him.
“You. Raped. Her?” He takes one step forward and punches Matteo in the face. Matteo’s nose explodes, and blood splatters across the side of my face, my shoulder, and my chest.
I bark out a laugh. My ankles tied to the legs of the chair, I strain, bucking to jump the chair around as Bellino crashes his body onto Matteo, pinning him to the ground. I’m not under any illusion that Bellino is pissed because I was hurt or raped—oh no, this fucker was probably planning on that fate to be dealt at his hands, but that right there is the issue. I’m damaged goods now. He wanted me pristine so he could be the one to break me, but Matteo took that from him. He can’t get that back now unless he waits for me to heal, which will be weeks by the way my body, face, and head are screaming internally every time I move.
Bellino’s massive fist pulls back, and there’s another sickening crunch as he punches Matteo again. Matteo’sscrambling, trying to kick out and force Bellino off him. But he’s like a man possessed. The wailing that comes from Matteo is music to my ears, and the grunts from Bellino as he screams with rage make me laugh out harder. I must look like a crazy person. Laughing—cackling, really. And I bounce up and down on the chair. The chair creaks and bangs with every lift and drop as I chortle out.
“Wait, stop! Bellino, stop!” My voice cracks, and his eyes flash to mine. “Don’t kill him,” I gasp.
He huffs. “He beat and raped you, and you want to save him.”
“Fuck no.” I shake my head. “I want to be the one who kills him. I want to make him pay.”
“What makes you think you’ll be around to kill him?” He still has a hold of Matteo, his weight straddling him and his fist in his chest pinning him to the floor. But his eyes are trained on me. There’s a look that passes across Matteo’s eyes, then I see it—a glint.
“Look out,” I yell. Bellino looks back at Matteo as his arm comes up with a small blade. He lashes out, but Bellino manages to lean back just enough that Matteo catches the fabric of his suit jacket. Bellino moves his fist and wraps his hand around Matteo’s throat as his other hand snatches at the wrist with the blade in it. He grips it tight, and Matteo screams out. The blade clatters to the floor.
Bellino stands abruptly and kicks Matteo. “Secure him,” he barks. My eyes flick around to see the Mancinis behind me, as the three of them dash over and grab Matteo. They hoist him off the floor as he kicks and screams.
“I’m here to help you. You promised me money. A position as your right-hand man if I brought her to you. You fucking liar, you fucking lied. I brought her. I fucking brought her,” he screams as the brothers drag him up and over to another chair.
Bellino walks over and punches him in the stomach. He gasps out as he sags in their arms. Bellino grabs him by the hair. Wrenching his head up and snarls in his face. “I told you, un-fucking harmed. You betrayed her for money, the woman you claimed to love. For cash, for a position, you disgraced yourself and proved yourself untrustworthy. Why the fuck would I employ you? Tie him the fuck up.”
Bellino stares at me, his chest heaving. His eyes scan my face. The bruising must be bad because his hands tremble at his side. His jaw tightens. He bites down. The anger is pouring off him. He storms off, ripping the door open and slamming it behind him. I crumple in the chair and smile to myself through the throbbing and shooting pain. I may have bought myself a little time. Can I get through to him? Can I form a truce and get him to trust me? Can I turn the tables?
My eyes flick back to Matteo as he struggles, screaming and writhing against his restraints. There’s panic in his eyes as he battles for all it’s worth with the Mancinis.
“I did what I was asked, I freed you guys. You owe me, or you’d be dead by now. You think she will spare you. You dumb fuckers. She’ll kill you all.”
They wrestle him into the chair, strapping him to it before leaving themselves. Matteo’s head hangs low.
“Not the recognition you were looking for, huh?” I mock.
“Fuck you,” he snarls.
“You did, and look where it got you.” His eyes flick to mine. The venom in them seeps out, and his face contorts.
“This is all your fucking fault; you should have chosen me, then you wouldn’t be here.”
