AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“This view must be why your father bought the house, eh?” Pavone says, gesturing out at the landscape. It’s mostly our backyard, but we’re on a hill, so the view extends out to the city. It probably looks gorgeous at night.
I have absolutely no interest in it though. “My mother,” I repeat. “Where is she staying? Since you’ve taken over her bedroom.”
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got her well taken care of,” he says vaguely. “I even let her pick the room she wanted. May not be the master bedroom, but the whole place is nice.”
“Is she… alone?” I ask, dreading the answer. I’m not sure I want to know.
He smirks at me. “Yeah, she’s alone. Why wouldn’t she be?”
Because you’re a dick, I want to retort, but I’ve learned my lesson where he’s concerned. He wants me to pretend I want this. He doesn’t want token arguments and protests. He doesn’t want me complaining; he doesn’t want any of that. He probably still gets off on me crying, but he’s made it clear he wants more from me than that.
For now.
“I just wanted to make sure she’s all right. She gets… confused sometimes.”
“Because she’s a drunk, you mean?” Pavone answers with a laugh. “Don’t worry, we’re keeping her well supplied with drinks. She’s probably happier now than she was with Giorgis. I did you all a favor, really.” He grins at me. “You’re glad he’s gone, aren’t you? What kind of father lets a man grope his daughter right in front of him?”
I’m sure he can tell my smile is insincere. I don’t care that my father is gone, but I’m not glad that now there’s no buffer between me and Pavone.
“He wasn’t a good man, no,” I answer neutrally. “But did you call me here to discuss my parents?”
“Nah. I thought I’d get to know my fiancée a bit better. I got a feel for your cunt, but I have no idea what kind of woman you are.” He leads us to the love chair out on the balcony. “Come, sit with me, babe.”
It’s very nearly the last thing I want to do, especially since I’m pretty sure his hands will be all over me in seconds. But it’s better than pissing him off, so I sit down on the chair. He joins me and wraps an arm around my shoulder.
“See, this is nice, isn’t it? I’m being good to you. I’m taking care of your family, I’m giving you orgasms, we’re just sitting and talking… marriage will be good for you.”
No, it really won’t be.
“I’m looking forward to our wedding,” I say, trying to force my voice to sound genuine.
Pavone sees right through it. “No, you aren’t.” He laughs, though. “But you’ll still be the perfect bride, won’t you?”
“Yes,” I say dutifully.
“You’ve been doing good. Your wedding planner’s stressed, but she’s doing a decent job keeping you busy. I like the choices you’ve been making,” he says.
The mundane chatter is almost worse than when he’s mocking me and degrading me. It’s like he’s trying to pretend he isn’t a monster, but we’re both all too aware of what kind of man he is.
“I’m glad,” I tell him. That, at least, is the truth. I don’t want him to think I’m completely blowing it off and piss him off. I don’t know why this wedding in particular has to be so perfect, but it’s important to him.
“You’re pretty cool under pressure, aren’t you? The wedding planning would have frazzled most other women. You shoulda seen Elena when she was in the thick of it, and she had six months to plan!” Pavone laughs again.
My stomach drops at the mention of Elena Pavone. She was the one he’d disfigured and then forced to do sex work. The video still haunts my nightmares—especially now that I’m dealing with Pavone daily.
“Anyway, you were very calm when Angelo murdered your father, too. Not like your sister. She just cried and screamed.” Pavone reaches out to push a strand of my hair over my ear. “Were you this calm with Corvi?”
I don’t know what answer he wants to hear. Does he want me to think he’s scarier than Victor? Does he want me to have been weaker?
“I guess so,” I say, hesitant but settling on—mostly—the truth. I don’t want Pavone to know how much Victor tormented me.
“Damn, nothing fazes you, huh?” Pavone pats my thigh, far too high up to be misconstrued as an innocent touch. “Was Corvi the kind of man to mumble in his sleep? To let out all his worries to the first warm cunt his dick has touched in years?”
I don’t know why he thinks Victor’s been celibate all this time, but I’m not going to correct him. “Not really,” I say. “He’s quiet, mostly, even in his sleep.”
“Really? You spent over two months there, and you didn’t learn anything at all about him?” Pavone tsks at me. “I spend one night here, and I already know you and your sister are close, and that the only reason your mom hasn’t killed herself yet is because she spends most of her life drunk or passed out. But you don’t know anything at all about Victor Corvi despite fucking him for weeks?”
This is dangerous territory. I try to think of how much I know about Victor, and I’m surprised to find it’s a lot more than I might have thought. He didn’t let down his barriers very low or very often, but with Angelo and Saint around, I’d learned a lot. And Victor…
