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"Because I have nothing left, Rafaele," she replies, her grey eyes meeting mine with a fierce resolve. "I have nothing to betray you for,” her voice hitches.
Her words strike a chord within me as I realize she speaks the truth. She has no family, no lover, no child. As much as I want to hold her responsible for her father's sins, I cannot let my desires die a wasteful death.
"Prove it," I tell her, watching her closely for any sign of weakness. "Retrieve the diamond, and then I’ll truly spare your life. Remember, Romola," I warn. "If you betray me, there will be no mercy. My men will always be watching you at every turn. From today, you may think you’re alone, but trust me as I say, you never truly will be."
"I understand, Rafaele," she says softly, rising to her feet.
“Remember-” I begin to tell her the plan, but she cuts me off.
"-Please, I need one more thing from you."
"Speak," I command, my tone icy.
"Let me have my father's body," she begs. "I need to say goodbye to honor his memory. I owe him that much."
“You wish to honor a traitor?” I spit on the floor beside me.
"Please, Rafaele," she implores, her eyes looking down from mine when she finds no hint of compassion.
"Your focus should be on retrieving the diamond from Fiero," I remind her coldly. "If you fail in this task, our agreement will be void, and you will have nothing left of your father to bury.
. I will make you sit on that blood-crusted chair,” I point to a large, winged, cold chair in the corner, ”and make you watch as I cut your father’s body into pieces and feed them to the dogs.”
I can see the hope in Romola's eyes shatter like fragile glass as I refuse to return her father's body. Her grey eyes glisten with unshed tears. I expect her to cry, to whimper. It’s clear that the harshness of my words seems to hit her like a physical blow, but she refuses to let it break her. Instead, she squares her shoulders and lifts her chin, meeting my gaze with renewed determination.
The determination troubles me and angers me. I need to make her afraid of me, not defiant.
"Listen carefully, Romola," I warn my voice low and laced with menace. "If you fail in your mission to bring me the diamond from Fiero Cremaschi, I will have my men drag you into this very room by your goddamn hair.
I feel pure pleasure as I finally observe a cold sweat breaking out on Romola's forehead at the sight of the chair. She swallows hard, her eyes darting to the hungry canines in the corner. I can imagine her heart racing, the fear almost overwhelming her, but she manages to hold her ground.
I want to break her; I want her to fear me because that is the only way she won’t betray me.
“And then,” I continue, with a smile on my face. “And then I will let the dogs have a go at you while you live. They will tear into your throat while you scream, the dogs will be the last thing you ever see as they gouge out your eyes with their teeth, and you won’t be able to run as they bite into your leg. By the end, you’d taste your own blood as you die. Don't even think about running. My men will be watching your every move. Should you try to escape, they won't hesitate to end your life in the manner I just explained."
Her breath hitches, and this time, she looks petrified. She just stands there, watching me, with trembling knees.
I study her intently. "Remember, fail this mission or betray me, and there'll be no place on earth where you can hide."
"Once I have the diamond, we're done, you bastard," she says, her voice cracking on the edges. "You'll never see me again."
"Let's just focus on getting the diamond first," I reply, a dark smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
"Fine," she agrees, her voice laced with equal parts defiance and submission. "I'll do whatever it takes."
"See that you do," I say, my gaze never leaving hers, a final warning etched into every syllable.
Chapter 23
Romola
Tears blur my vision as I grip the steering wheel of my car. I look at the seat next to me, where Papa often sat, and all I see is the little dent of his shape on the worn-out, old leather. A painful lump makes it hard to swallow, and tears come. Tears I don’t notice. Tears I can taste in my mouth as it drips down my lips.
My chest aches, and the colors around me seem alive from the constant state of panic I’ve been in since leaving Rafaele’s compound last night.
“We were supposed to be together, partner,” I whisper into the universe, staring up at the sky through the glass. “Why, god, why?” I scream, slamming my hand into the wheel. “Why did you take to take him from me?” I sob now, wiping away my tears with the back of my hand.
I wish I had never met Rafaele Bressan. I wish his men had never seen us perform at that stupid, godforsaken circus. I wish the circus would shut down. I wish, I wish, I wish, but none of my wishes would ever come true. Even if they did, they’d make no difference.
