“How generous of you,” I gasp out. “I need to go.”
“I have to wait until you turn twenty-one to marry you, Rosa. Can you make it?”
“No.” I’m not giving into theatrics at this point. Now that I’ve thought about ending things, I’m afraid it’s all I’ll think about.
“Fuck. Fuck!”
I turned the volume down on the speaker the moment I answered the phone. Maybe I have some self preservation inside of me yet.
“I don’t even fucking know you. Why are you affecting me like this?”
That’s my question exactly.
“I don’t know. I’m emotionally unavailable, Nico. Papa had me punished for having a girlfriend the night you and I met. You wanted something real, so there you go.”
I don’t know why I’m telling him this. Maybe it’s just nice to have someone give a damn about me.
“I have a boyfriend. Aren’t we a pair?I don’t care who you love,principessa.It’ll have to end when we get married either way.”
There are so many more reasons why Vero and I can’t be together. I want to ask Nico if he plans on giving up his boyfriend too, but my energy is flagging. The time between closing and opening my eyes lags more and more, signaling that I’m dangerously close to falling asleep.
“I have to go.”
“Answer the phone when I call,” he grunts, hanging up.
Sighing, I drag myself out of the bath and place the phone on the counter. Unfortunately, this puts me eye to eye with myreflection. While bubbles still cling to my skin here and there, I can still see the damage done to my body.
Deciding that shaving is too much of a temptation, I get in the shower without looking for a razor.
I should be thanked for my restraint.
* * *
Six days later
Nico has called me two times a day since he had the phone delivered. My father grumbles less about it, but today he’s called me into his office to talk.
Wearing leggings, an under bust corset underneath my tank top, and nothing else, I walk into his man cave expecting the worst. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t done anything wrong, but I’m paranoid since my sleep has been shitty.
When I do drop off to sleep, I dream of Nico and Verona, with my betrothed killing my stepsister in very violent ways. It’s disturbing to say the least since he’s never said he’d hurt her.
It’s almost a blessing when whoever is outside my bedroom wakes me up intentionally throughout the night. Sometimes it’s a swift kick to the wall, others it’s blaring heavy metal with a lot of screaming. Papa and Elio put the cousin whose name I can never remember on night duty.
I’m lucky he hasn’t climbed into bed with me at this point, since he complains loudly he didn’t get a “taste” of me. Regardless, I keep a gun and a knife within easy reach. Due to how damaged my body is, they think I’m an easy mark, so no one checks my room for weapons.
My father doesn’t suggest they check either, and I think he’d laugh if I killed one of his men. I truly don’t understand that man, which makes me all the more scared of him.
I keep my distance from my father, standing outside of reach. The bruises are all turning yellow and green, making my skin appear sallow. I haven’t even tried touching it with makeup, there are places that are very tender to the touch. I have no idea how I’m going to manage wearing a wedding dress unless I’m completely covered from head to toe.
“I wanted to update you on how things are proceeding with your upcoming nuptials,” Papa says formally, his gaze cruel and discerning. “Your wedding dress is currently being altered. It’s not enough time to have it custom made, but it shouldn’t matter. Don’t eat too much between now and next week and it should be fine.”
Ha. I’ll be lucky if the damn thing isn’t hanging off my frame. Still, it’s only been a week of not eating more than the smoothies Papa has been having sent up so I doubt that’s enough time to become skeletal.
My appetite is almost nonexistent at this point, so Papa’s concerns aren’t necessary.
“Yes, sir.”
My voice is still raspy, though it’s not as painful to speak. I no longer have the hacking cough I had previously, and while I can speak easier, it’s easier not to.
