The flash of irritation across his face is there and gone, smoothed over by that oily smile as he chortles darkly, sending his jowls shaking against the collar of his obviously expensive shirt.
Anthony whimpers.
"Hush now, dear boy." Don Leo strokes his hair again. "Aunt Bella is here now, see? Everything will be just fine."
It won't.
Nothing will be fine ever again.
"When my son brought me the information you sent him." Don Leo looks back at me. "I really thought this unfortunate war would finally be over."
He pauses and he continues stroking Anthony’s hair. When he speaks again, the warmth drains.
"Imagine my surprise the boy wasn't there."
“Imagine that.”
"You're clever,ragazza." His smile curdles on his fat rotten face. "Not many people can trick my son so easily. Not many people can have me send so many of my men to their deaths for nothing."
Trick?
My eyes flick to Nico for a moment, and he returns my gaze with something that looks almost like an apology and the slightest of nods to tell me that I didn’t trick him. He must’ve known that I would’ve convinced Slava to bring Alessandro back before I passed along the chateau’s information to him.
I'll do what I can to keep both our nephews safe.
Nico wasn’t in a position tonottell Don Leo once I gave him that information. But he could’ve done it in a way to jeopardize Don Leo’s own power base.
It’s not enough for me to start trusting him yet, but it’s a start. And right now, that’s the best damn hope I got.
"What do you want?" I ask Don Leo.
"What I've always wanted,ragazza." He counts them off on fat fingers. "My daughter's honor avenged. Romanov's whelp dead and buried." Then a slow, obscene smile appears as Anthony makes a tiny whimper. "And you."
"Me," I repeat flatly.
"I'm curious, you see." He licks his lips as he rapes me with his eyes like he had on the yacht. "I want a taste of the cunt that's got Romanov's blood pumping differently. See how sweet it is. Hear how loud you can scream. You must be one hell of a good fuck."
Lydia snarls from behind her gag—a sound of pure fury, muffled but unmistakable—and she jerks against her bonds like she's going to throw herself at him.
Don Leo's arm swings back to slap her, only to be intercepted by Nico, whose hand tightens around his father’s wrist.
Suddenly, it’s like someone sucked out all of the air in the room, and everyone goes still.
"You dare lay a hand on your old man?" Don Leo asks quietly. “You dare raise your hand against your Don?”
"This one is mine, Papa." Nico refuses to let go. "You have your own."
Don Leo's eyes narrow as he works his oily lips. Silence stretches like a wire being pulled taut, and I watch this power struggle play out like I’m not moments away from death…
Or worse.
"Everything in this family is mine, boy. You’d do well to remember that."
Nico says nothing but still refuses to let go.
"But I'm a generous father." Don Leo wrenches his arm free, and his smile suddenly returns. "You can have your bitch until I wear this one out."
Lydia makes another sound behind her gag, but this time it's different. Quieter. I catch her eyes—green and furious and frightened and trying desperately not to show the fear—and I try to lie to her with my eyes that I will find a way out of this.
