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“That dead greasy Capo didn’t even tell you why you’re so valuable. Shame. Must not have been the wonderful marriage everyone talks about.”

“Fuck off, Mr. Cady.” I wiggle a little, hoping my phone falls out of my back pocket and I can grab it. That’s the only plan I currently have. Once the phone falls, we’ll see if I can think of something else. I feel it edging out. Lou is behind me and plucks it from my pocket. He grins a sick smile as he sticks it into his breast pocket. Sal is going to kill him.

“Vulgar. No one needs to get vulgar, my dear.” He wipes at the neck of my chef’s coat. “And so messy. These chef whites should be worn with pride. I have great respect for the art of cooking. Methodical and precise. Baking even more so. The chemistry of it all, making exact science and sense.” His fingers rub at splatters on my jacket. “You’ve made a disrespectful mess of your whites.”

“I was cooking tomato sauce. I’m shocked it’s just a spot.”

He puts his hands out, and Lou hands him a wipe. He meticulously scrubs down his fingers. Then he takes a Tide pen out of his pocket and proceeds to clean the spot just under my chin on my jacket. He tosses the pen into the garbage, Lou hands him another one and he puts it in his jacket pocket. He nods. This whole fucking thing is so weird.

“There. Now we can have a conversation. If we’re going on a trip together, at least show an air of civility.” Without warning, the chair is kicked out from under me. Lou grabs me before I fall and sets me to standing. But it’s only an instant until I’m doubled over without breath as Cady punches my stomach. I stay folded over, trying to will away the nausea and find the breath he decided to steal.

“Pay attention, dear Enzo. There are ways to hurt a woman that don’t show in public.” My stomach twists with his knowledge. He’s not new to this. “Pull her up. Let me demonstrate. You don’t mind, Mrs. Pietro, do you?” Enzo chuckles and pulls me to standing. “Perhaps, Enzo, if you had more of a familial connection this wouldn’t be necessary. Hold her from the front, would you please?”

My mind is whirring trying to work things out. I wince in pain and focus on figuring things out rather than throwing up. Enzo’s expression is unreadable as he stands in front of me. I don’t know if his parentage is common knowledge, or if Cady hoped for an easier transition of power. I wonder if Enzo had known we were married, would he have hunted me sooner? Cady must have assumed everything would pass to him.

“Phil Cady,” I croak out.

“Manners, Mrs. Pietro. My guest doesn’t seem to know the rules, Enzo. Enlighten her.” He punches me again in my stomach in the exact same place. I stand back up after I reflexively folded in half again. I breathe through the pain.

“Dumb bitch. Don’t say his name.” Cady wipes his hands again on a cloth and glares at Enzo with disdain.

“Language.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I move my arms a little trying and get a little relief from the pain starting to ache in my shoulders. Why keep Enzo alive? He clearly hates him. I exhale and try to tamp down the panic that they’ve read my sealed will. If I die, Gia and David’s children get everything. That must be why they want to take me. Force me to sign it all over to them, and keep him the face of the Family.

Cady circles me very slowly and I hear his belt clang against itself. Oh god. Am I getting raped? In front of Lou.

He thrashes my back with his belt and buckle. I’m thrust forward by the primal attempt to escape the searing pain and fall to my knees. My voice is unrecognizable because I’ve never screamed in this much pain. Enzo squats down and hoists me back up with a big grin on his face. Fuck Sal, I’ll kill him.

Thrums of pain keep rippling down my back like a chill. But it radiates from the nucleus of where the metal hit my mid back.

“Now, will you be good, Mrs. Pietro?”

I gasp, “Yes.” I close my eyes tight trying to will away the intense agony. It stings.

“Wrap up your panel and then we’ll get you a nice cocktail to put you to sleep. When you awake, it will be a whole new life, Mrs. Pietro.” Fuck, that’s weird. That’s so freaky. I have to get away.

“This sucks. I like to see them bleed.” Enzo spits in my face as he says this.

Cady circles back around, he rights the chair and wipes his hands off again. Enzo pushes me to sitting. Tears run down my face as he touches my cheek. He’s talking to Enzo but never loses eye contact with me. I need to clear away all of this pain and figure out how to fucking get out of here. Get away. Sal was right. Mark was right. I don’t belong here. I’m not this person. I’m in so much pain. If he hits me again, I’d tell him everything. I’m not a good spy and I’m terrible bait.

“You’ll see her bleed in good time. All in good time and in proper order. You might want to fix your mascara before your panel. Appearances matter, Mrs. Pietro.” He steps back, and I bend over and puke.

“Disgusting. Try to behave from now on.” With one last smack right where the buckle hit, he leaves and I fall to the ground, just missing my vomit. When the door shuts, I lift my head to see Lou hovering with a knife.

“What is happening? How could you do this? Who the hell are you?” I’m crying but a thought strikes me. My gut can’t be that wrong about this man. I whisper to him, “Do you need me to rescue you?” His lips almost twitch to a smile, but I’m serious.

There’s a barely audible, “Shh.” That comes from his lips. I want to look around to see if there are cameras, but I can’t stop trying to see the face of my friend. I want to see his eyes and see if it was all a lie. I’m in trouble, and I don’t know if Lou would help me. I don’t know why Cady wants me. I only thought he’d force me to sign over the ports and the land. Taking me shouldn’t be on the agenda.

Lou says nothing as he cuts my bindings and lifts me up. I stand stunned as he gently wipes the mascara from underneath my eyes with a tissue. He doesn’t say a word while he does it, and I look at him, perplexed. He wipes my mouth carefully with another wipe.

“You have a panel, now. Stage B.” My mouth is now wide open as he gets very close to me and slips my phone into the side of my chef’s jacket.

“G. is all that matters. Tell him it’s all for G,” he mutters. I exit the room to two goons I recognize as former Sally Pipes employees, and I’m going to say their loyalty isn’t with his wife. Lou doesn’t follow or even look at me. I don’t know what to think. I throw away my yellow bandana that’s supposed to signal to everyone that things are fine. I have nothing but questions and no answers.

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