Page 110 of Diary of a Mafia Princess

I didn’t want this but I couldn’t go anywhere, my bound hands and the cage preventing me from running.

Behind his brother’s back, Enzo’s gaze rolled over my body, sick and slow. He wasn’t as handsome as his older brother. Everything about Enzo was snakelike, from the slicked-back hair to the way his narrow shoulders didn’t quite fill out his suit jacket. Carlos was tall and broad-shouldered, just like his son, and classically handsome, in a way nobody would be able to deny.

He’d clearly been the genetically blessed of the two of them.

Enzo fired up the blowtorch, and Carlos held the iron out to him to heat.

Meanwhile, Carlos turned his head to speak to me. “You don’t need to worry. We all have this mark. Anyone who’s ours does.

“Carlos, please,” I begged. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

Enzo hissed at me. “If you mean no disrespect, you’ll take this without making a sound, other than to thank us at the end. As of right now, you’re nothing but the slut daughter of Jeremiah Matish. After you take this mark, you’ll be a Guerra.”

I wanted to scream at them that I would never be a Guerra. That if I was anyone’s, I was Dax’s. But that first and foremost, I belonged to no one but myself.

They wanted to take that away.

I couldn’t let them.

I threw my head back and screamed.

Pulled at the binds that held my wrists.

Thrashed and fought and screamed until I was hoarse.

Neither of them cared.

Carlos tweaked my nipple with his free hand, squeezing it and proving to me once again that he could do what he liked, and that even when I screamed and railed against him, that there was no use.

“Don’t worry. This will heal fast. The scab will drop off before you walk down the aisle, wearing my brand on your chest proudly.”

“No!” I screamed, wrenching at my wrists again, though the pain in them begged me to stop. “I don’t want this! Please!”

“Hold still, Nyah,” Carlos said darkly. “Or this will hurt so much more than it has to.”

I knew he was right. That if I didn’t stand still it would be worse.

The fear in me disappeared. And all that was left was anger.

I let him see every ounce of it in my eyes as I stood there and glared at him.

The iron came down on the swell of my breast, the fiery heat blazing through my skin, burning my flesh, the smell hitting my nose sharp and tangy.

The pain was like nothing I’d ever felt before. An agony I wouldn’t have wished on my worst enemy.

When my vision flickered and I crashed into the bars, all I could think was the darkness was finally welcome.

34

LUCA

Dear Diary,

If this were a normal family, punishment wouldn’t require locks.

“How the fuck does anyone see the damn puck when it moves so fucking fast?” I muttered to myself, staring at the TV screen on my bedroom wall. I could barely keep up with it when there was a yellow highlight around it.

Despite my complaints about how much my team sucked, they were still a million times better than I ever would have been. Fuck, maybe I needed glasses, because I could not keep up with this game.