This time, he slowly turned his head toward me, and gave me a look so hostile my hands started shaking.
“No one leaves the table before Don Fernando. Especially a woman. Such disrespect won’t be tolerated.” Giuseppe tossed the words at me like poison while calmly eating his food.
I glanced at Don Fernando, still slumped in his chair. Was he even conscious? Who the hell knew. I turned to Tony, and the vein pulsing at his temple told me all I needed to know. There was no way out.
This wasn’t the Tony I believed I knew. This was someone else entirely. A cold-hearted bastard who clearly couldn’t care less about me.
Slowly, I sank back into my seat and wrapped my shaking fingers around the spoon. But there was no way I could eat with that lump stuck in my throat. I could barely breathe.
Everyone else kept eating and drinking like nothing was wrong, except for Lucia. She kept sneaking glances at me with quiet sympathy.
“How come you and Tony showed up together?” Carmen asked Lucia.
Lucia went pale. “We … ran into each other at the library,” she mumbled, barely audible.
Carmen shot a piercing glare at Tony, then turned to her again with an even sharper one.
Brando chimed in, sarcasm thick in his voice. “She was probably showing Tony her precious books. The ones her dear husband, the wife-killer, will be flipping through in less than two weeks.”
Lucia’s face turned crimson. She quickly looked away and downed her water.Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tony pick up the knife next to his plate, his hand wrapped around it so tight his knuckles went white.
For a second, I thought he was going to stab Brando. But before he could even twitch, Carmen stood up.“Time for Don Fernando’s rest.”
She dropped her napkin onto the table and walked off like a queen leaving her court. The nurse silently followed, pushing the old man’s wheelchair out behind her.
I thanked God that this circus was finally over, because I was about to suffocate in that room. I stood up and made for the door, fast. Didn’t give Tony or Brando another shot at me. What they thought wasn’t important.
I didn’t care where all that bad blood between them came from. Everything had become crystal clear about my future with Tony. Or rather, my futurewithoutTony.
Because after everything I’d seen and heard, no way in hell I was going to be some Mafia guy’s girlfriend. Especially not in a family where one of the closest members was known asthe wife-killer.
I didn’t even want to imagine what kind of story lay behind that name. I thought to myself, at least he hadn’t been at the dinner table. But as they say, what you fear most often comes true.
I didn’t know then, that my life and death, my body and soul, my past and my future would all become the private property of that man.
I didn’t know I’d never again step outside his fortress and live a normal life. I didn’t know I was about to spend the rest of my days under the control of the most ruthless, merciless, and bloodthirsty man in all of Italy.
Carlo Bruni. The wife-killer.
THREE
Emily
Tony didn’t show up after that trainwreck of a dinner. I kept waiting, half-expecting him to come explain what the hell that whole mess had been. His family, his behavior, all of it. But no. Nothing.
The Tony I’d dated for three months, the one who was sweet, thoughtful, and patient, clearly didn’t make the trip to Italy. The man who walked me into this stifling mansion was someone else entirely. Cold. Arrogant. Cruel.
I was shoving my stuff into my suitcase, blinking through tears of fear and humiliation. After zipping the bag shut, I went for my phone to book the first flight out of there, but I didn’t find it. IknewI’d left it on the nightstand. I didn’t take it to dinner, trying to be respectful to his family, but now it was gone.
Digging through my bag, I hoped maybe I’d tossed it in there without thinking. But it wasn’t there, and I realized that my passport was missing too. A jolt of dread sank into my gut. Someone had taken them on purpose.
No phone. No passport. I was stranded thousands of miles from home, stuck in a fortress surrounded by high concrete walls and electric barbed wire, with a bunch of Mafia members inside.
I was literally trapped in the lion’s den, with no way to call for help. And even if by some miracle I managed to escape this hellhole and make it to the airport, I had nothing to prove who I was.
There was a knock at the door, and it opened right after. One of Tony’s guards walked in, a young man with a firm stare. The type of guy whose skull-and-bone tattoos did half the talking for him.
“Mr. Bruni wants to see you.” It was more of an order than a request.
