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“Well, there must be something remarkable about her,” he said. “Even a rich man like Bones hoards his money. He wouldn’t shell out that kind of cash unless he had a good reason.”
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” It didn’t matter what Bones’s opinion was. We were both evil—but in vastly different ways. Just because he thought this woman was worth something didn’t mean I would agree.
“I think we should get a peek ourselves.”
My brother’s fascination with beautiful women was irritating. His hard cock in his trousers constantly drove him forward. I kept my thoughts to myself, guarding my privacy like it was a treasure full of gold. In my line of business, there was no room for feelings or attachment. When I cared about someone, they usually wound up dead. “I couldn’t care less what this woman looks like.” Pretty or hideous, it didn’t make a difference to me.
“I want to see them together,” Cane said. “See how he treats her. That should give us a clue to how he feels about her.”
That wasn’t a bad idea, actually. If she were just another slave, she wouldn’t be there at all. Would she sit beside him like a person? Or would she bow on her knees the entire time, showing off her obedience? Would she fetch him drinks all night? Why would he bring her when he could have one of his many servants serve him? The questions were gnawing at me from the inside out. “Where are they sitting?”
“Left balcony.” He read off his notes. “It’s private, so even better.”
“Is he registered under a pseudonym?”
“Yep.”
“Then he won’t suspect us.” We could just send one of our men to take care of this, but Cane and I were personally invested in this endeavor. We needed to see Bones in action with our own eyes. We needed to see everything. We were the only ones who could make the right call.
“Nope. That fucker won’t have a clue.”
Chapter Ten
Pearl
“We’re going to the opera tonight.” Bones opened the closet to reveal the gorgeous gown I was supposed to wear. “After dinner, we’ll head over there. They’re performing one of my favorite productions.”
I got to go outside again.
I couldn’t believe my luck.
I got to leave this stuffy mansion, with its boring pale walls and lack of decoration. The carpet wasn’t soft under my bare feet. It was thin and cheap. I’d get to be around other people, listen to them speak Italian—one of the most beautiful languages I’d ever heard. Maybe I could tell someone I’d been kidnapped. Maybe I could ask for help. What if there were police there? Could I make a run for it? “I’ve never been to the opera.”
“You’ll love it. Very tasteful.” Despite his rugged physicality and sick ways, he had a cultured side. He shot someone in the head last week, and now he wanted to listen to a woman sing.
“Thank you for inviting me.” I kept up my façade, pretending to tolerate him but still maintaining my feistiness at the same time. He loved the fire within me. He loved to be the one to blow out my flame.
“I want to show you off to the world. You’ll make even the Italian women here look ordinary.”
It was the first time he’d given me a compliment—and not about my cunt or tits. It was almost sweet, in a twisted way. He wanted to show off his slave to the other aristocrats of society. But he probably wanted to pretend I was his willing date—not a captive. “I don’t know about that...but thanks.”
“Get dressed and we’ll go.” He marched out of my bedroom, which still didn’t have a door.
“Okay.” It hurt my mouth to agree with him, even if he didn’t command me to do anything. But it scarred me to act as his plaything, to do his bidding, even if it was part of my plan.
I had to swallow my annoyance and keep going. When I got to the opera, I would figure out a way to get free. I would figure out a way to run. All I had to do was focus on that to hold my tongue. Telling him what he wanted to hear and pretending to respect him was going to save my life.
I could keep doing it.
***
We arrived at the opera and were escorted to a private balcony. No one else was there besides the two of us, and a butler stood in the back, ready to get us anything Bones asked for.
I surveyed the people in the audience, looking at all the women in their gowns and the men in their tuxes. The collective conversations filled the auditorium, a few laughs bouncing off the walls. I concentrated on the sounds of their voices, on the accent of their Italian words. I’d never heard a more beautiful language. The only foreign language I heard in the United States was Spanish. While Italian was similar, it had its own unique qualities.
