Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“I’ll wait here. Thank you.”
They didn’t argue and set out to work. I hovered near the door, wringing my hands, unsure what to do while they worked. One of the helpers, a girl who looked only marginally older than me, set a carafe of water and a glass on a tray. Ten minutes later, a plate with a big stack of pancakes, covered in syrup, pancetta, and butter, followed.
I gave them a grateful smile and picked up the tray, my arms tensing under the weight of it. I gritted my teeth. I had never carried a tray, and it showed. The staff watched me with concern as I crept out, worried I’d drop everything.
It took me forever to descend the staircase to the basement, and by the time I arrived at Nestore’s cell, the pancakes were cold. I pushed the plate into the cell under the bars, but the carafe was too big to fit. I filled a glass with water and handed it to Nestore. He ate a few pancakes and all of the bacon, then hid the remaining food under the bed.
“Thanks for the food.” He came toward the bars and held out his glass. I refilled it, and he downed the water in one gulp.
“It’s the least I can do. Next time, I’ll bring a bottle so you can hide it in your cell.”
“I can drink from the sink. It tastes rotten, but at least I won’t die of thirst.”
“Only of salmonella or legionella,” I muttered.
He cracked a smile. “I’m not convinced that it isn’t worth looking into.”
I didn’t understand how he would still smile. If our roles were reversed, I’d be cowering in the corner, crying my eyes out.
I glanced at my watch. “I have to go. My stepmother told me my father would return around lunchtime. I don’t want to make him suspicious.”
I didn’t mention that I needed to shower and throw my clothes in the laundry. I was too scared that the putrid stench of the basement clung to my skin and fabric, and Father would know what I had done.
Nestore nodded. “Enjoy your new home.”
“You—” I snapped my lips shut. I had almost said “you too” out of habit.
He let out a chuckle. “I’m sure I will.” He looked around the dark, dank cell, then moved toward the narrow bed and sank down.
I felt horrible for leaving him like that. “I’ll be back.”
“I’m counting on it.”
With a last weak smile, I left.
I waited for two days before Achille Lamorgese came for me the first time. The halogen lights attached to the wall across from every cell glowed night and day. They didn’t reach my cot. Sleep wasn’t at the forefront of my concerns, though.
I imagined what I’d do with the shard in my hand. It was from the plate I’d broken for that very purpose. The plate Amelia had given me. I doubted she had even for once second considered what a mere plate could be turned into. My mind always saw the potential for a weapon in everyday objects, something my father had trained me with from an early age.
It was late at night when the heavy door to the cellblock swung open, and Lamorgese entered, followed by Eduardo and three bodyguards. The guards had taken my expensive watch yesterday, so I wasn’t sure exactly what time it was.
Lamorgese favored his right side and looked ashen. My knife had definitely done its job.
He stopped in front of my cell, his smile menacing.
“I hope it hurts,” I muttered, faking bravado despite the fear simmering in my veins. I didn’t know what to expect, only that it would be painful. Father had hit me often, sometimes out of anger, sometimes for training, and I had done kickboxing and cage fighting since the age of four. Still, I knew the additional humiliation and helplessness during torture made it much harder to bear. I didn’t want to give Lamorgese the satisfaction of knowing my fear, though.
Lamorgese rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, revealing arms that hadn’t seen a real fight or gym in a while. “Let’s see how long your arrogance lasts once I carve you up with my knife.”
My stomach roiled with anxiety, but I kept my face unimpressed. Fear was the enemy.
Lamorgese motioned at Eduardo. “Unlock the door and take him to the interrogation room.”
Eduardo hurried to follow the order, unlocking the door and stepping inside. “Get up.”
I stayed where I was, pretending I hadn’t heard him. I wouldn’t make this easy for them.
“Get up now!” Eduardo hissed, glancing at Lamorgese cautiously.
“I’m good where I am.”
Eduardo was by my side in two long strides and reached for my arm. My fingers around the shard tightened. Launching up, I rammed it into the side of his throat with full force. He stumbled back with wide eyes, clutching his throat and making choking sounds. His horrified gaze moved to Lamorgese as if he hoped the asshole would jump to help him. Eduardo was replaceable. Lamorgese wouldn’t shed a single tear over his demise.