“Not too young to love.”
“Fifteen. So young,” she said as if the word was a stranger, when she wasn’t even that old. But living with my father, she probably felt ancient.
“I wish I could help him. I wish I could run off with him.”
Her gaze jerked toward the door as if she worried my father would burst in. “Be careful,” she murmured. “Next time, he might not stop.”
I knew my father was capable of killing me, especially now that he had a boy on the way. The only reason he tolerated me at all was the chance of marrying me off to another powerful man to solidify his own power. Perhaps even to Benedetto’s oldest son, Remo, who was killing off high-ranking Camorrista in his quest to become Capo. I was bargaining material he didn’t want to lose. “Don’t you ever wish you could run away. To save yourself and the baby?”
Flavia’s eyes gave me the answer she didn’t dare to say aloud. Her fingers curled around the fabric of her dress, knuckles turning white.
I considered asking her to help me get the key for Nestore’s cell, but she was pregnant, and I wasn’t sure my father wouldn’t beat her and the unborn child to death, heir or not, if she went behind his back. Two of her pregnancies, both with girls, had ended early because of his temper. He found a pregnant belly disgusting, so it enraged him. That was why my mother, his second wife, and even Flavia hadn’t managed to give me a sibling yet.
I dragged my legs out of bed. Someone had dressed me in a nightgown. “How long was I out?”
“Three hours.”
“Thanks for taking care of me.”
She nodded with a small smile and rose to her feet, her thin hand coming to rest on her protruding belly. “I would tell you to stay away from Nestore, but I can see in your eyes that you won’t. Just be careful.”
“I will be. Don’t worry.”
She left, and I put on a cardigan and slippers before I snuck out. Every step caused a ripple of pain in my entire body, making me stop and suck in a sharp breath. It took me a while to reach the basement, shuffling my feet over the floor to avoid the worst pain in my thighs.
Anxiety sloshed in my stomach when I opened the emergency exit door and snuck into the cellblock. I sped up despite the ache in my body, desperate to see Nestore. I found him sitting on the ground with his back against the neighboring cell. The moment he spotted me, he shoved to his feet and rushed toward the bars, grasping them in a white-knuckled grip. His eyes scanned me from head to toe, his face displaying rage and despair. I wished I had covered up my legs and collarbones, the only skin I was showing.
“One day, I’ll make him suffer for everything he’s done.”
I smiled shakily and grasped the bars below his hands, our skin brushing. “I’m okay,” I lied. “What did he do to you?”
Nestore shook his head. “Nothing yet. But imagining him hurting you was torture. I was so worried he’d kill you.”
I gave a small shrug, then winced. “Not yet.”
It was meant as a joke, but Nestore pressed his forehead against the bars with a look of feverish anguish. “Don’t risk your life for me.”
“I won’t stop coming down here. And I’ll find a way to get you out of here.”
Nestore closed his eyes briefly, then gave me a bitter smile. “You’re the reason I’m still alive.”
“I’ll get you out of here.”
“Only if you come with me,” he murmured.
“Of course.”
My father had always been distrustful, but since becoming Underboss, he had become downright paranoid. He didn’t trust me to begin with, and even less so since he’d witnessed the kiss. In the weeks that followed the incident and the beating, I tried to get back in his good graces. Still, it became more difficult to visit Nestore in the basement. Guards patrolled the cellblock more often than before.
I needed to figure out a way to free Nestore before things got even worse. For me to get close enough to my father to steal the keys to the cell without him noticing required a miracle. My best bet was one of the guards. They, too, were wary, but if I pretended to flirt with them, maybe they’d lower their guard. Since I’d developed some curves, I’d noticed the stares from my father’s men.
I put on a dress that was a little too tight by now, revealing more leg and neckline than I was comfortable with, but it was perfect for my purposes. My belly burst with nerves as I left my room in search of the guards.
Flavia came out of the bedroom at that moment. She took one look at me, and her expression tightened. She grabbed my arm and tugged me into her bedroom. She and my father didn’t sleep in the same room. They only shared a bed when they were intimate, a thought that made me feel very sick. Though he nowmostly favored his mistresses and whores because Flavia had a belly.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a low voice.
“Trying to get the key to Nestore’s cell,” I said with a shrug. I had waited far too long, had been too scared.
