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She attempts to pull me inside with them. “Come on! We can all fit.”
We can, but it’ll take too much room, and we won’t be able to shut the door.
“The gun?” I say, ignoring her efforts.
“Get in here, Gigi,” she snaps.
I shake my head. “The gun, Eden.”
She blows out a defeated breath. “There’s a safe in his desk drawer. The lock combo is one, two, four, five.”
A gun means hope. My father started shooting lessons with me when I was eight and makes me take refresher classes every six months.
Amara whimpers, and I caress a hand over her teary face.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I tell her. “Please just be as quiet as you can for me, okay?”
She nods while holding back sniffles.
I return my attention to Eden. “Keep her ears covered.”
I shove the clothes in front of them and shut the door. Before I leave the room, I kick the book under the bed, turn off the lamp, and half-ass make the bed. The room needs to look like no one has been here.
“Please be my father,” I whisper as I peek around the corner.
I inhale a breath, softly close the door behind me, and scramble toward the office. Just as I’m about to reach my destination, someone grabs me from behind. A hairy, scarred arm wraps around my waist, jerking me backward.
“Oh no, you don’t, cunt,” he grunts in my ear.
This man definitely doesn’t work for my father.
None would dare to ever speak or touch me like this.
My heart rattles in my chest. I kick my foot back against his ankle, but he stops me. When I try to elbow him, he curls his arm around my shoulders. Lowering my head, I bite into his hand, sinking my canines in as deep as I can.
“Fucking bitch.” He pulls his arm away and shoves it against my throat, putting me in a headlock. “Help me out here, Savi!”
I gasp for air and desperately attempt to fend him off. The pressure on my windpipe eases when another man—Savi, I assume—joins us and helps him restrain me.
“Damn, Billy,” Savi says to the man holding me. “Can’t fight off a whore yourself?”
I keep resisting them while they drag me into the living room, where Sonny and a woman are waiting. I’ve only seen Sonny a few times, when he spoke with my father, but the sight of him makes me sick.
“Gigi Marchetti,” he says in satisfaction. “It’s so nice to officially meet you.” He licks his lips as if I were the dinner he was ready to devour.
Or like he’s about to gut me like a pig.
Sorry, asshole. No way am I becoming bacon today.
The woman, dressed in stilettos and a Chanel tweed blazer, definitely didn’t get the memo to dress for the occasion. She steps forward as if someone summoned her.
“Where’s my granddaughter?” she asks, glancing around.
When I refuse to answer, she walks toward the bedrooms.
“Amara, honey,” she calls out, her voice filled with fake warmth. “Come out to Grandma. I’ll protect you.”
My mouth falls open in revulsion when it dawns on me this is most likely Antonio’s mother and she’s betrayed him. There’s not a chance in hell I’m letting her near Amara.
