“Together forever. I won’t ever leave you.”
Nestore smiled and extended an arm through the bars. I kissed the palm, then pressed it against my chest right over my heart. “This beats for you.”
“I often dream about kissing you.”
I exhaled. I wanted nothing more, but I had always wished for our first kiss to happen outside of these godforsaken walls, in freedom where our love could truly blossom. “All my firsts are yours,” I promised. It was a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep. I had three years until I had to marry, unless my father decided to give me away before I was of age… Right now, he kept me as bargaining material.
Nestore closed his eyes briefly with a blissful smile. When he looked at me again, the longing in his gaze made me press myself against the bars, the cold steel caging in my cheeks. Nestore struggled into a sitting position, pain etched into every stunning line of his face. He gripped the bars with bruised fingers and pulled himself closer to me. He looked closer to death than life. “All my firsts are yours too,” Nestore rasped. As a man in our world, Nestore would already have lost all his firsts a long time ago if my father hadn’t locked him in a cage like an animal to humiliate and torture him.
Nestore leaned forward and pressed his lips against my cheek, the touch so gentle and sweet, I wanted to cry. How could he still be this good after what had been done to him?
The door to the basement swung open, and my father stepped in with two of his men before Nestore and I could pull apart. He held one of his pet chimps, the female, dressed in a checkered dress, by a leash. Father’s face twisted with disgust and utter rage. He shoved the leash at one of his men and stormed toward me. He had changed out of his tracksuit and now wore a business suit.
“Don’t—” I wanted to beg Father to spare Nestore his rage, but his palm struck my mouth, leaving blood in its wake. I fell to the floor, my ears ringing, my lip throbbing, and blood pumping into my mouth. I retched at the potent taste. The chimp let out screeches and hoots that echoed in the basement and raised the little hairs on my neck.
Cruel fingers tangled in my hair and wrenched me upward. I scrambled to get on my feet to stop the burning pain in my scalp, but Father didn’t give me the chance as he dragged me toward the steel door.
“Don’t hurt her! Hurt me! I tricked her into kissing me!” Nestore roared.
I was sobbing from the pain in my scalp, but still managed to shake my head. “No.”
“You’ll get your turn, Nestore. Don’t worry. I’ll be back for you later,” my father snarled as he opened the steel door and wrenched me through it. I stumbled after him up several flights of stairs until we reached my room. He tossed me inside, and I fell to my knees, pain shooting through my knees and up my legs. Relief filled me as the pain in my scalp subsided. With watering eyes, I looked up to see my father remove his belt. “I was far too lenient with you. That ends today. I don’t care if I have to give you a lashing every day until your skin peels off your bones.” Before I could utter a single word, he lashed out with the belt, and it whipped against my upper arm. I cried out in pain, backing away, but he followed, and the hard leather hit me again and again—my arms, my legs, my back. My face was the only place he spared, and I knew why. He wanted to marry me off to another Underboss. I wasn’t blind. I had seen the looks the men who visited us gave me, and it creeped me out. I needed a pretty face for that.
I half wished he’d leave scars on my face to be spared a future at such a man’s side. Nestore wouldn’t care about a few scars. Strike after strike rained down on me until my world was pain, and sweet oblivion eventually overcame me.
I woke in my bed. Every inch of my body ached, and my skin felt too tight, as if it were on the verge of bursting. Whimpering, I opened my eyes to find Flavia perched on the bed beside me, her brows tugged tight with worry. “Finally,” she said and blew out a breath. Her makeup was done to perfection, several layersof professional foundation covering up the bruises on her cheek and throat. “He’s never beaten you this badly.”
I tried to sit up but gave up at the intense pain in my back, arms, and legs. The last time I’d gotten a beating almost this bad, I had asked him why he kept torturing Nestore.
“You’re bruised all over. It’s a good thing it’s winter. That way, we can cover the marks with clothes. Even my makeup wouldn’t be able to cover everything.”
I tilted my head and glanced down at my arms. They looked like a painting of modern art. Different shades of blue and purple, and the occasional streak of red where my skin had burst open. Flavia wrung out a cloth and put it against my forehead. The cold felt good against my skin.
“Why did he punish you like that?” she asked.
“Nestore kissed my cheek.”
Shock crossed her beautiful face. She was only twenty-five and had already survived seven years with my father. Pregnant with his heir, maybe she had a chance to survive even longer. Her eyes crinkled with sympathy.
“He shouldn’t have done it!”
“I wanted him to.”
The disapproval in her face would have made me angry if there weren’t worry in her eyes.
“Do you know if Nestore is okay?” Fear filled me like a flash flood. If my father had punished me like this, Nestore must be at death’s door.
“I didn’t see them carrying out any body bags.”
I swallowed. I had to hope that meant Nestore was alive.
I tried to sit up again, and this time I managed, driven by sheer determination and worry.
Flavia lightly touched my arm. “I understand the wish for love, Amelia, but in our world, we as women only experiencelove from our children.” She stroked over her bump. Her first child. Or the first she’d hopefully carry to term.
I swallowed hard. “I love Nestore.”
“You’re young.”
