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Everything else? A sterile white, even the vanity.

I shed my clothes piece by piece until I stood before the mirror naked. Bending my head, I looked down at my stomach, lightly touching the bullet wound. I felt the pain less and less. My body was getting stronger. I wouldn’t say I was at one hundred percent, but I’d get there.

My feet drew me to the shower, and I stepped into the hot water, letting it pelt the top of my head for a few minutes before starting to wash up. As serene as the warm water made me feel, I couldn’t quite calm myself down, couldn’t relax.

I was in the Moretti suite, not at home. Although, really, the estate in Cypress wasn’t really home to me, either. I… nowhere felt like home. Maybe that was my curse.

I used Luca’s shampoo and his soap, knowing I didn’t have any other options. All the while, I tried to calm myself, my thoughts, not let myself overthink, but it was hard.

Nixon was Atticus’s son. He was a Jameson, not a Hawke. Not only that, but there was more dirt my father was attempting to find, something that would pit the Palmers against Atticus.

What could that possibly be? The whole point of the Hand was they had each other’s backs. Five criminal empires combined into one, the strengths of all with the weaknesses of none. Whatever it was, it had to be bad, but I couldn’t think of any possibilities, nothing that made sense.

I couldn’t say how long I stood there after I washed up, trying to think, but it was a while. A long while. I guess a part of me didn’t want to go back to that bedroom, where Luca waited for me. It was our first night together as husband and wife, and I knew time was of the essence. If I didn’t deal with my father and Rocco soon, Luca and I would be pestered with questions about children.

Kids were all right, but I didn’t want them. Maybe in the far future, but not right now. There was too much to deal with. Plus, I’d have to go to the doctor and take out my IUD, and that wasn’t going to happen.

Eventually, after my skin had turned numb to the temperature of the water, I got out. I went to grab my towel, not caring that I left wet footprints on the tile below. The floor was so cold compared to everything else; a good shock to the system. I dried myself off, did the rest of my nightly routine. At least I had my own toothbrush, right? There were a million things wrong with this situation, but at least there was that.

It was the small victories that kept you sane when everything else in your life felt like it was falling apart.

My hair would be kinky tomorrow, but honestly, I didn’t care how I looked. I wasn’t going to dress to impress, nor was I going to obsess over every detail of my appearance just because I was now married in the state’s eyes.

Done with everything, I opened the door. My hand went to the light to flick it off, but someone stood in the hall. Maybe he’d been walking by and heard me about to come out, or maybe he’d waited for me the entire time. Who could say? All I knew was that I expected it to happen sooner or later.

Rocco stood in the hall, the shadows of his features illuminated by the bathroom light. Though the lighting was more fluorescent than it had been, it still reminded me of that night when I’d willingly set my own soul aflame by agreeing to do what my father asked of me. Letting this filthy, disgusting man put his hands all over my body, among other parts of him.

I’d wanted to die because of this man, and yet here I was, still standing.

“Giselle,” Rocco spoke, taking a tiny step toward me. There were less than two feet between us, and with how softly he spoke, I knew he didn’t want to alert his son of this encounter. The bedroom door across the hall was closed, so Luca couldn’t see. “I wanted to catch you before you headed off to bed.”

Luca was so close. If I called out his name loudly, he would come, and there would be a reckoning between father and son—something which I couldn’t help but guess Luca was trying to avoid. Maybe he wasn’t ready to completely break away from his bloodline like I was. He had a bit more at stake, namely his mother.

I didn’t call for him. I simply whispered, “What for?” I wouldn’t be nice to him. I let my bitchiness out. He was lucky I didn’t stab him in the throat at dinner.

Rocco grinned, and again he stepped toward me. He stopped only when I’d stepped back into the bathroom, and he closed the door, giving us some privacy. He still wore his suit, telling me he’d waited for this moment. His black hair was slicked back, those eyes of his the same hue. So soulless, so dark you couldn’t tell where the irises began.

“I would be very careful if I were you,” Rocco warned, head held high like he thought he owned the world. Or me. Probably just me, the world to follow. “You have enemies. Big enemies. You’re not safe, not even here.” With that, he lifted a hand and tried to stroke my cheek, but I sidestepped him, not saying a single word.

He chuckled. “It doesn’t matter what you do, you know. The wheels are already turning. Certain plans are already in motion. Nothing you do will change it.” Rocco’s expression turned solemn, and that voice of his took on a deadly seriousness. “I don’t know what you’ve told my son, but if you tell him anything that happened years ago, well…”

I watched as his gaze dropped to my feet, slowly traveling upward, eating me up inch after inch. The fucking gall of this man knew no bounds.

“I’ll have no choice but to remind you just how willing you were when you were younger.” Something came from him right then, not quite a chuckle, but close to it. “Normally I like them younger than you, but in the right light, you still look quite young.”

Fucking asshole. Who knew how many other young girls had been sold to him, even temporarily, in exchange for his favors? Who knew how many others had gone through exactly what I had? Maybe those girls didn’t have their own Father Charlie. Maybe those other girls were dead.

I knew one thing, as I gazed into those dark, pit-less eyes: I was going to kill this motherfucker, and I would enjoy the hell out of it.

He turned away from me then, leaving the bathroom and the door wide open. I stood there by myself for a minute, gathering my thoughts, cooling down.

Who the fuck did that guy think he was? As if he was God himself, as if he never thought anyone would ever end his reign. Well, he’d find out soon enough he was wrong about that.

Heaving in a breath, I turned off the light and returned to the bedroom, where Luca waited, already laying on the floor, underneath the blanket. He yawned, propped himself up and asked, “Everything okay?”

I nodded. “Everything is fine.” I didn’t say anything more, getting into bed.

Needless to say, sleep did not come for me that night.

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