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“Hey, don’t look at me. It’s not like I told your old man to stab Enzo in the back.”
My lips tighten. I’m pretty sure that’s a confession.
We walk in silence to a bedroom at the end of the upstairs hallway, which is also dominated by a chandelier. Daylight streams in through gaps in velvet curtains that obscure tall windows that overlook the gardens. I glance at a canopy bed covered in the same style of drapes, wondering if those might form a suitable noose.
Tommy leans into my side and murmurs, “Tacky, ain’t it?”
“What happens now?” I ask.
“We’ll remodel.” He squeezes my shoulder, making my heart shudder. “Anything you want.”
“Pardon?”
He flashes me a predatory grin. “After all, this is your home.”
This may as well be my tomb. Tommy Galliano will make sure I don’t leave this house alive.
“Is Roman coming here? You said I would be bait.”
Tommy bows his head, his shoulders shaking with a chilling laugh that increases in volume until it fills the entire room. He rocks back, his eyes finally meeting mine, and his laughter fades to a sinister grin.
Electricity runs across my skin, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Is he acting weird on purpose to throw me off balance?
When I step away, he snatches my arm.
“I’m going to send Montesano to a meeting point close to your old apartment. Once he’s dead, I’ll send the order to my men to kill his brothers, attack his businesses, and take back my meth lab.”
The full horror of his plan hits me in the windpipe, and my breath catches. “That’s…”
“I know.” He winks. “In a few hours, you’ll be a widow and by this weekend, you’ll become Mrs. Tomaso Galliano.”
“Why?” I rasp, trying to shrink from his grip.
“So I can take control of the Montesano heir,” he replies, as though the answer is obvious.
I reel backward, my mind spinning. I need to think of something to stop this assassination. I can’t let him leave.
“Roman won’t come,” I lie. “The only reason he wanted me back is for revenge.”
Tommy stares at me with an intensity that cuts through my defenses. I’m rooted to the spot, powerless to tear my gaze off his inhuman face.
Up close, I realize what I found so uncanny. That layer of pigment on his skin isn’t fake tan, but foundation. It’s even on his lips. I try not to think about what’s underneath all that makeup, but now I’m imagining the worst.
“That’s what I thought at first,” he says. “I pictured him locking you in a room, fucking and beating you senseless while you pleaded for mercy.”
My throat tightens, and I gulp.
“If Freddy had fucked me over like that, I’d put a collar around your neck and drag you around like an animal on a leash. At night, I would chain you to my toilet. The only thing you’d eat is my piss and shit and cum.”
I tremble, my veins filling with ice.
“But Roman loves you desperately,” he murmurs, his voice tender. “And he’ll walk into an ambush if it means I might spare your life. When he does, I will bring you his heart.”
A sob catches in my throat. I want to beg Tommy not to leave, but I can’t think of a single thing that might stop him from murdering Roman and taking control of my son.
I lower my lashes, but Tommy grips my chin, forcing our gazes to meet.
“Wish me luck.” The pressure of his fingertips tightens, and he leans so close that I back toward the wall.
