Page 119 of Thin Lives

“Knew that bastard was up to something,” Affonso said to himself. “Can’t be trusted—none of them.”

Emma’s brow furrowed as she listened to his mutterings. She knew Ray had gone missing a while ago, and had yet to show back up. That was two men down for the Donati family, or at least, that’s how it seemed with both Calisto and Ray gone. It probably didn’t help that she had left those letters for Affonso to find, like Calisto had asked her to. They only added to her husband’s drunkenness and his paranoia.

She quickly unbuckled Cross from his car seat, and scooped her baby up into her embrace. She felt better the moment he was snug and safe in her arms.

“Probably got Ray for getting him,” Affonso continued on, in his own little world. “I overlooked that, you know. I overlooked Ray’s mistake because he’s a friend, and you have to keep your friends. Calisto should have understood that—I spoiled him too much. Well, he’s not getting me. I did nothing but love him.”

Emma stared at Affonso, more confused than she had ever been.

She didn’t understand a word of what he was saying, but she figured it wasn’t important. What she needed to do right then was get her son away from Affonso Donati before the asshole took him from her for good.

Spinning around, Emma headed toward the door, hoping Affonso was too lost in his own head to even notice she had been in his office, took the baby, and was gone again before he’d looked back up.

She’d hoped for too much.

Emma heard his heavy footsteps behind her, and she held tighter to Cross when Affonso reached out and fisted a handful of her hair, yanking her backward.

Shit.

That hurt.

Letting out a quiet yelp, Emma stumbled to keep upright as Affonso pulled her back into the office. She didn’t let go of Cross for a second.

“Fucking useless bitch,” Affonso snarled. “What do you think you’re doing, huh?”

He didn’t even let her get upright before his hand cracked her hard across the face, and sent her falling to the floor. Somehow, Emma managed to wrap her arms around her baby, keeping him protected from the fall.

“You can’t take what doesn’t belong to you, whore.”

Emma blinked up at Affonso, seeing his wild, bloodshot black eyes boring down into hers. He was reaching out for Cross, but she rolled away from him and quickly got to her unsteady feet

“No,” she said, hearing Cross’s tiny sniffles start up. “You’re not taking him.”

“Give me my fucking son.”

“He’s not your—”

She didn’t get the chance to finish her words. His fist—not his open palm this time—came flying out of nowhere. Emma’s vision blackened at the corners when the punch connected with the side of her face. Blood bloomed in her mouth at the same time.

Her grip on her son loosened.

Affonso reached for the baby as he hit her again, taking the child from her arms as she instinctively tried to raise one hand to protect her face. Without Cross in her arms, all Emma could do was ward off the blows from Affonso’s one hand as he rained punch after slap down on her without pause.

When she was on the floor, trying to cover her head and push away the blackness seeping into her vision, Affonso started kicking her.

Through his attack, she heard his words.

His names.

His taunting.

They were worse than anything else.

Whore.

Slut.

Useless.