Page 5 of The Mafia’s Fiancee

Some way. Somehow.

The guards filed out of my room as I walked all the way in.

Everything looked the same. It was the same personal wing of the mansion that I’d called my own. My nursing textbooks remained on the shelves. The artwork I’d collected hung on the walls. Even my bed looked unchanged and untouched, with the same sheets and cover that I’d slept on over a month ago, before Krista and I planned to head out and live large.

I turned, pacing back from the wide windows that showed the gray clouds pregnant with rain. On the trip back in, I looked up at the sound of footsteps.

My father strode in, his hands fisted at his sides and deep lined etched onto his face. He was furious. Livid. His lips pushed up with the force of how hard he mashed them together in a line of disapproval, but that was nothing new. He’d always found me lacking.

“You stupid fucking whore.”

He stormed in so quickly that I didn’t have time to waste energy in a meaningless mental reminder to stay strong. Or an internal pep talk not to cower. I didn’t have the chance to deflect his physical greeting, either.

With one swift lift of his arm, he struck me. He backhanded me so hard that I fell back. The force of his hit had me flinging back. Pain shot through me. I tensed closing my eyes and curling into as tight of a ball as I could with the sudden drop down.

“You fucking whore!” he shouted as he kicked.

His shoe slammed into my thigh. At the top of my leg, right before my ass, his foot impacted me with such force that I skidded over the floor.

He didn’t give me a chance to speak. To breathe. I was holding in my breath from his first hit. I wrenched my eyes open, lowering my hand to cover my backside from another kick, but he changed his tactic.

Growling, his chest heaving with the strain like he wanted to kill me with his bare hands, he lowered and grabbed a fistful of my hair.

“Ahh!” I screamed as he lifted me off the ground. Agonizing streaks of fire lanced over my skin. The roots resisted, and tears blurred my vision instantly at the sensation of what seemed like his clutch ripping the hair right off my head.

“You fucking idiot!” he seethed, baring his teeth as he glared at me. “Sleeping around with the hotel staff?” He flung me back, releasing his hold on my hair.

I slumped to the ground, glowering at him through the blur of tears I refused to shed. Not for him. I wouldn’t ever give him the satisfaction. Pressing my hand to my head, I ground my teeth and wished he was dead.

“Imagine my fucking surprise when I hear rumors that you’re sleeping around with the fucking hotel staff. I let you think you could have your freedom, you stupid bitch. That you could party and live it up before your wedding.”

He reared back his foot to kick me again, but I was prepared. He’d set the tone for violence, and I wouldn’t take it lying down, helpless. I pushed my foot out to shove at the back of his other knee, and he nearly stumbled down against the side of the bed.

“You fucking—” He straightened himself, his eyes glittering with pure hatred.

Pointing at me panting on the floor, he snarled, “It’s time for you to wizen up. I’ll be damned if you try to get out of your engagement. I’ll be damned if you try to find a way out of marrying Antonio. You hear me?”

I stared at him, looking forward to defying him. I already had in sleeping with Luke and agreeing to marry him.

“Fuck you.”

He growled, stalking away then coming back again, so furious that he grunted with every hard breath. “No, fuck you, you stupid brat.”

I didn’t lower my guard as he stormed toward the door. He wouldn’t leave it at that. He wouldn’t give up. My punishment, I was sure, had only just begun.

“Chain her,” he ordered to the guards at the door.

Fuck. Fuck this no. No.

I scrambled up off the floor. Anything but the chains. Not again. I had been introduced to the misery of being chained to my bed when I ran away as a young girl.

But the guards were too quick to obey. The pain from where he’d kicked me hurt too much, and I fell in my rushed crawl to evade them.

“No. Dammit. No!”

I wrestled them the best I could, swatting at their hands as they shackled my ankle, then my wrist.

No matter how much I flailed and resisted their efforts, with three of them against me, I was outnumbered and overpowered.

Both of my left limbs were connected to the bedpost, and I shuddered at why locks had ever been constructed on the piece of furniture in the first place. I was told long ago that this bedroom was once my mother’s private wing, and the thought of her also being chained up sickened me.

Dragging in panicked breaths, I fumed and watched them walk out of my room.

I was trapped. Kept captive and wounded.

It’d been a long time since I felt this alone. Misery spliced my heart in half.

How was I supposed to get out? How could I find my way back to Luke? What if he was hurt? Would he be able to know where I was?

Questions bombarded me, and I had answers for none. The more out of control that I felt, I resorted to steadying my breath.

Only the contact of the ruby ring on my finger kept me sane.

I rubbed the smooth face of the gemstone, willing it to give me the strength I’d need to get the hell out of here. Because I would.

I had to, even if it was the last thing I did.