“They threatened my sister! That didn’t leave me with much of one!” she yells back at me, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming at her again. I can’t tell if she’s lying or not, but she’s so angry as well, that itseemslike she’stelling the truth. She goes back to holding her arm to her chest, and as the blood seeps between her fingers, I look back up to Zeke.
“Get her a damn rag or something so she doesn’t bleed on our couch,” I ask not so nicely, but I just can’t help it. I’m not getting any answers, and while I may not be able to attack her again, I’ll find another way to get to her. I’m not sure there’s anything that could convince menotto kill her, but if Damiendidwant her here, then there must be a reason. Zeke keeps his eyes locked on her as he walks towards the laundry room, and I focus my stare back on her. “You don’t have a sister.”
“Yes, I do,” she says sharply. “Her name is Elizabeth. She’s four years old—”
“Then why didn’t we find anything about her?” I interrupt.
“He never reported her birth, and she’s rarely ever left the house—if ever. No one knows about her.”
“And I’m just supposed to believe you?”
“Yes,” she says plainly and reaches down towards her boot. The moment she extends her arm, Alex appears next to me and raises his own gun, like she’s going for a weapon. From all of the commotion, I forgot he was even here, but I’m thankful for him, nonetheless. She freezes and looks up at him with a paranoid glare. “I’m just getting my phone.”
“You have a phone?!” Zeke yells as he walks back over to us with the rag in hand.
“Yes, but it’s not for what you think.” She raises her free hand, the arm that I cut, and then she pulls out an old slider-phone with her other one. As she slips it open, Alex lowers his gun and Zeke throws the rag at her, barely missing her face. She clicks a few buttons and then holds the phone out to Zeke. “It’s a disposable. I only have it to talk with the nanny that keeps Elizabeth at my father’s mansion in Washington. You can check it. There’s only the one number, and nothing but texts andpictures of her. That’s all it was programmed for. I can’t even make any other calls with it.”
“If they were treating you as badly as you say they did, then why would they let you have this?” Alex asks her as Zeke looks it over. I watch his face soften only a little as he looks at the screen, and then he walks it over to me.
“They wouldrewardme with it when I wasn’t causing trouble. My father set it up and gave it to them when he handed me over. I stole it off DeLuca’s body when he wasn’t looking,” she reveals and gestures to Zeke, earning another disgusted grimace from my brother’s lips. I take the phone and start scrolling through the pictures myself.
She’s a sweet-looking little girl. Her hair is a darker, honey blonde, and she has a little button nose. She hangs on to a stuffed animal in a couple of pictures, and her hair is pulled back by a little bow or braid in most of the pictures.
Fucking bows.
I hate how the sight pulls at my heartstrings, and all I can imagine now is our daughter in something similar. These pictures seem legitimate and are all of the same girl—and an older woman in some. She looks just as sweet as Elizabeth, but she’s clearly not related to them by the darker skin and different facial structure. I look back up to Victoria, and even though I do see the resemblance between her and the little girl, I don’t let my curious face ease up.
“You better start explaining. Now,” I demand, and she nods as she presses the rag to her arm like the pain doesn’t even phase her. The only thing she’s looking at is this phone, as if she’s terrified that I won’t give it back to her. I hate how that instantly makes me feel guilty. If this is all true, that would explain why Damien wanted to bring her here. But we still need to take everything she says with a grain of salt until we’resureshe’s not lying.
“I didn’t know who my dad really was for a long time,” she says softly. “To me, he was just my dad. I never knew anything else. I was home-schooled, and I wasn’t really allowed to make friends or go out, but I was stupid enough then to believe that it was just because my dad wanted to protect me. Then he brought home her mother.” She points to the phone. “I woke up one night to screaming, and when I rushed downstairs, my father was watching her be drug down to our basement. She was kicking and thrashing, and I didn’t understand why he would do something like that to her. Let’s just say I asked too many questions.”
She swallows harshly and continues to stare at the phone. While I’m still wary, part of her story explains why there’s so little about Victoria. We figured it was because of his side activities, but this pretty much confirms it. He obviously kept her from the public eye for a reason. So, of course, when things about her started to leak, he would’ve had to adjust for Elizabeth and limit her even more.
“Short story is that she was born at home, and her mom…died. So, I took care of her. Well, the best that I could, anyway. He would never let me take her to the doctor, or even to the park. Any time she was sick, he would bring a doctor to the house, and he had someone bring me supplies whenever I ran out. Non—” She stops abruptly and swallows back her words. “Our nanny helped too, and she’s who has her now, but Saconne and my father won’t hesitate to hurt her. Iknowthat. Even if you don’t believe me, Ineedto get her back. Ihaveto know that she’s safe and away from them.”
“What does any of that have to do with Damien?” Zeke asks hatefully, like he’s already sick of Victoria’s voice.
“When I found out who he was, and I watched why DeLuca was so obsessed with him, I asked for his help. I told him that ifhe promised to help me when we escaped, then I would get him out.”
“How did you end up with the Italians in the first place?” I ask her.
“I honestly don’t know the whole story. One day, I was in Elizabeth’s room, playing with her. Out of nowhere, my father’s guards rushed in, pulled me out of the room, and brought me downstairs, where they were all waiting for me. He said I was a ‘gift’ in exchange for their help. That was about a year ago, now.”
“So, you expect us to believe that you’ve worked beside them for a year, and you not once tried to escape before now?” Alex asks with his head tilted, like he’s not sure what to make of all of this. With a stern glare, Victoria lifts her shirt enough to bare her torso. There are a few scars, and a lot of bruising. Some of the marks look like old cuts, and others look like burns. There even appears to be a brand closer towards her hip bone, and I can’t help but clench my jaw at the snake-looking symbol.
“Trust me, I’ve tried, but after their first threats against my sister, I settled down for a while.”
“Why should we count on this? I mean, what makes you think we’re going to believe anything you say?” I ask her, but the truth is that Ialreadybelieve her. I can see the way she’s desperate for this phone back, and what other reason would she have to help Damien? Did she actually help him? I thought Zeke found him?
“I don’t care what happens to my father.” She looks at me with conviction. Her eyes are filled with hatred and a fire burns just on the other side of her dark irises. “Kill him, torture him, I don’t give a shit. Ijustwant my sister. She’s all I care about.”
“We’ll discuss it more once Damien is awake and can speak for himself. For now, we need to think about how to move forward from here,” Alex decides. “Do we have to worry about Saconne?” he asks Victoria.
“On his own? Maybe, but he wouldn’t have the balls to run back to The Society. They’d kill him for failing.” Recognition charges at me with full force, instantly recalling what she just said.
“The Society? What the fuck is that?” Zeke asks. Victoria scrubs her hand over her face, and then runs it through her hair.
“Jesus, this is going to be a long day…”
