Yes, I should be with my daughter. But what good is a mother with a hollow, lifeless soul?
There’s no need to weigh the options. I already know.
One last glance at the car.
A whisper. “Forgive me, my love. Goodbye.”
Then I turn and walk straight to Tony.
The moment he realizes what I’ve chosen, he thrashes violently against his captors, his screams desperate. “Lucia, don’t do this. Go! Get out of here. Fucking run!”
Carlo’s voice slices through the noise, calm and final. “Send the car away. Close the gates.”
His men obey.
Thick arms drag Tony toward the cabin. Other hands seize me, grip unbreakable. A few steps later, I realize they’re taking me back to the house.
I twist toward Carlo, who’s already heading toward the cabin with his pack of wolves.
“You promised, Carlo!” I scream after him. “You said we’d die together!”
He doesn’t even turn around. Just lifts one lazy hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll die together.”
Then, with chilling calmness, he adds, “But you won’t take the same beating. You’ve had yours. Now, it’s his turn.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Lucia
I thrash against the iron grip of the men dragging me across the floor, screaming, but they haul me up the stairs anyway.
Through my thrashing I spot Emily in the hallway with Giorgio. “Emily! Please! Help Tony—Carlo promised he wouldn’t torture him!”
As I get closer I see her face isn’t cold anymore. Tear tracks stain her cheeks and fresh ones shimmer in her eyes. Giorgio shifts, planting his massive body between us like I might suddenly grow claws and lunge at Carlo’s precious wife.
The two men gripping me toss me into a room and slam the door shut behind them. I scramble to my feet, lunging at the door, yanking the handle over and over. Locked.
That’s it. I slam my fists against the wood, screaming, “Carlo, you bastard! You promised! You fucking promised!”
I don’t know how long I pound and scream. When my strength finally gives out I slide down the door, breathless and shattered, Tony’s name a broken whisper on my lips.
When the adrenaline fades I realize where I am. The library. Even crawling to the couch feels like too much effort. Instead, I press my face to the cool marble floor, curl my knees to my chest, and weep.
Time slips away.
Then the door creaks open.
Carlo steps inside.
The sight of him brings back the last bit of strength in me, and I bolt upright. Even though he’s wearing a black t-shirt, the specks of blood are unmistakable. Droplets splattered across his body, blood that must have spilled from my husband’s veins.
My gaze drops to his hands, fresh wounds mar his knuckles, split open from the force of his blows.
He looks at me with contempt, then moves further inside. Behind him, Maxim and Noah carry Tony’s battered body into the room.
He’s wearing only briefs. His face is so swollen I barely recognize him. Cuts, bruises, and burns cover every inch of his body.
I don’t even know if he’s still alive.
