Page 116 of Diary of a Mafia Princess

But he didn’t seem to be waiting for a thank you. “We should get some cold water on that burn.”

“What does it matter?” I whispered to him. “I’m going to have your name on me for the rest of my life either way.”

Anger burned in his eyes, but it all felt fake and pointless.

It clearly wasn’t to Luca. He knelt at my side. “Not my name. My father’s name.” He picked up my hand and put it to his chest. He had a smattering of hair across his pecs that trailed down in a line to his belly button and then lower, disappearing into his pants. His skin was warm, so much warmer than mine after lying on the concrete floor for hours. His chest was hard, all muscle, but he rubbed my fingertips over his heart, and I looked up at him in surprise.

His skin wasn’t smooth. There were raised scars, old and faded enough to not be super noticeable in amongst the hair that grew around them. But I could feel them.

I stared up at him. “He did this to you too.”

He nodded. “I was thirteen.”

I swallowed thickly. “How could he do that to his own child?”

Luca sighed heavily. “I don’t know. But that was the day I truly realized that tears and begging and pleading or really any sign of weakness were a waste of time. So I never cried in front of him again.” His gaze turned from anger into something softer. “I’m really fucking sorry he did this to you. If I’d known…”

I turned away. “If you’d known, you wouldn’t have done anything, Luca. He’s your father, and you’re the Mafia prince of Providence. You wouldn’t have done anything.”

The anger flickered in his eyes again, his jaw tensing.

I waited for him to walk out and slam the door.

But he didn’t.

“Let me see it.”

I turned over on my side, facing away from him. “Go to hell, Luca.”

But he grabbed my shoulder and rolled me back. The motion caused my burn to scream out in pain again, but just like he hadn’t shown his father his tears after that day, I refused to show him mine again either.

He lifted the sheet over my legs, and then my torso, taking the shirt he’d put on me with him. I didn’t even resist him because what was the point? I couldn’t fight him off. He was going to do whatever he wanted to me.

And the brand on my chest gave him every right to.

But he settled the sheet so it covered my nipples and then pulled the shirt off my head carefully. “I shouldn’t have put this on you. It could be stuck to your burn. I just couldn’t bear to see you like that.”

“You didn’t mind when I was naked in your bed.”

His gaze met mine. “That was entirely different, and you know it.”

I fell silent, because he was right.

“I don’t know if there’s any point putting water on this now. It’s hours old. I think the damage is already done.”

“Agreed,” I replied.

“Wait here.”

“I haven’t got anywhere else to go.”

His gaze flickered to the window.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m hardly going to jump from the second story, Luca.”

Relief flickered in his expression.

I realized he’d actually been considering the possibility that I might not be jumping out the window to try to escape this place.