Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
He’s a vicious weapon in a stunning shell. I bite the inside of my lips, holding tightly to my desperate instincts to beg for my freedom.
I want to go home. I need to see my mama. My aunt has little time left, and everyone must be worried sick about me. Have my family reported me missing yet? Are the police out looking for me?
Antonio kneels on the bed, his thighs stretching his crisply pressed dark pants as he moves closer, so predator-like, I quiver like prey. His hand, whip-fast, grips my jaw, and he tilts my chin until I have no choice but to look at him. His eyes are almost colorless in the low light, ethereal and unnatural, his breathtaking angular face set with dark determination. His hand is so strong that my bones creak. “Understand this,” he says through gritted teeth. “From this moment on, you’re ours. You belong to us. You’re Venturi property. Not Aemelia. Not Lambretti.” He sneers at my name. “You are gattina. No past, no future. You. Are. Bait. You understand.”
Little kitten. Bought to secure retribution for a lost brother.
Little kitten. Owned by three ruthless mafiosi who want my father’s head.
Little kitten. Captive and under Venturi control
I don’t flinch. I don’t move. But inside, I’m screaming.
5
ANTONIO
THE COST OF DEFIANCE
I lean against the cold, exposed stone wall of the hallway, my jaw tight. The girl should have begged. She should have pleaded to be released. She should have wept for her own safety and fought against her captivity. All those are normal reactions. Instead, she looked at me with cool control in her beautiful, rich, dark eyes, twisting my insides with her resilience.
I’m a lot of things. Cold. Brutal. Unforgiving. Deadly. I’m the weapon of this family, the messenger of fate and death. My knuckles are scared from years of violence; my conscience deadened from my part in too many deaths.
So why did my body revolt at her quiet acceptance? Why did I crave the fight, the clawing, the screaming, the bitter hatred?
I’m fucked in the head. A monster. A man incapable of anything except executing Luca’s will.
I rub a rough hand over my face, breathing hard.
The stronger her will, the harder I will have to push to break her. It is easier to respond to violence with violence, easier to fight to control someone who’s lost the grip on their restraint. But Aemelia’s holding herself so tightly, she vibrates with it.
Luca’s talking on the phone, and the deep sound of his voice echoes in the dimly lit corridor. The penthouse is vast and luxurious, a stark contrast to the brutal reality unfolding within its walls. Everything’s too smooth and shiny, casting sharp reflections that seem to mock me.
I push away from the wall, satisfied that Aemelia isn’t going to wreck the room she’s confined to. In the open-plan living area, the floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the glittering city skyline, indifferent to the darkness brewing inside these walls.
Luca adjusts the cuffs of his crisp white shirt. His sharp features remain unreadable, ice-cold beneath the ambient glow. The phone now rests on the arm of the sleek white leather sofa. “Antonio?”
“She understands.”
He nods, his blue eyes, our mother's eyes, flicking to where Alexis is sprawled.
“She’s defiant,” I say.
“Really?” He shakes his head.
We all remember her mother. She was weak and emotional, always losing her shit with Carlo in ways that embarrassed everyone around her. Her daughter is nothing like her.
“Keeping her here will become a liability,” I warn.
Alexis scoffs, running a hand through his wavy dark hair, his lean form relaxed. “Breaking her is the easy part. We just have to push the right buttons, right?” His eyes glint with something I’m not entirely comfortable with, something hungry.
I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “She’s not a mafia hood, Alexis. She’s just a girl who claims to know nothing. Luca said she wasn’t lying about that.”
Alexis smirks, amused. “No one’s asking you to like it. But unless you’ve got a better idea, we do what’s necessary.”
That’s easy for him to say. He’s not the one who usually has to do the doing, although he’s not averse. I prefer to keep my little brother’s hands as clean as I can. No point in both of us dripping with blood and sin. My hands are too thick with it to be cleansed. He at least has a chance at repentance.
Luca nods. “We need Carlo to believe it. If he thinks we’re being lenient because she’s a girl, he won’t take the bait. He needs to see her suffer—believe she’s in real danger.”
I clench my fists, the weight of it all pressing against my chest. I’ve done things, terrible things, in the name of family and power. But this doesn’t feel the same.
Luca continues, ever the strategist. “We need to reach her mother. If she wants her daughter to return to her in one piece, she’ll stay out of it. If she involves the police, there will be consequences.”