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“Useless whore.” Pavone’s hand tightens around my arms, but I’m more concerned about his other hand, which is inching its way up my body. “I can’t figure out if I’m marrying a conniving slut or a braindead idiot.” He squeezes my breast briefly but keeps moving the hand up.
It comes to a stop at my throat. I swallow hard, aware of just how precarious my situation is.
“I’m asking again. How did Corvi know where I was going to be? How did he know about our date?”
“I don’tknow.” His fingers start to squeeze. I wish Angelo was there. He might actually do something… but he’s gone. Pavone fired him, and he’s not here. I have to protect myself. “But Angelo knew! Maybe he was still in touch with V— Corvi.”
Pavone starts laughing. “Yeah? The fag? I didn’t tell him about my other plans. He’s barely at the house when he isn’t guarding you. But you—you’ve been here the entire time. Listening.Spying.” His fingers tighten further.
I want to shake my head, but his grip is enough warning to keep perfectly still. I remember Pavone’s warnings about what he’d do to me if I betrayed him. I remember the pictures he’d sent of his previous wife. I remember Elena Pavone.
“Please,” I beg in a whisper. “I don’t know anything. You never shared—”
I let out a strangled cry as he squeezes, completely cutting off my airflow. I reach up instinctively, trying to dislodge his arm, but I can’t compare to his raw strength.
This is worse than when Angelo tried to strangle me, when he’d thought I’d fucked Al Ricci. I’m even more terrified, and I’m honestly not sure if Pavone is going to let me live through this. He’s made himself clear, and he could send a hell of a message to his guards and second-in-command by killing me in front of them just a week before the wedding he’s been so adamant about being flawless.
It can’t be flawless if the bride is dead.
The horrible thought that he might replace me with my sister, just to have someone to stand at the altar, is even worse than him slowly squeezing the life out of me.
I scrabble at his fingers, trying to pry them open, but I can’t do anything. He stares at me, his eyes devoid of any pity or humanity.
“Emilio,” Rossi says, stepping next to me. “Killing her won’t solve the Corvi issue. And it won’t help us if we have to cancel all our networking opportunities.”
Networking opportunities. That’s all this wedding is to them.
Pavone turns his glare to Rossi, but he finally loosens his hold on my neck. I gasp loudly, sucking in air, then start coughing. I reach up to my neck, rubbing the skin and trying to soothe the pain.
He doesn’t let go of my arm.
“Show’s over, all of you!” Pavone shouts into the room.
That’s the first indication I have that there even was a show. With horror, I look up. Several guards have gathered on the stairs. And on the second-floor landing is my mother, who’s watching dispassionately.
She hadn’t said anything when Pavone was choking me.
“As for you,” Pavone says, sneering at me. “If you doanythingto piss me off before the wedding… you’ll be wishing I hadn’t let go today.”
Part of me wishes he hadn’t. Each day is going to be another opportunity for him to terrorize me, and I have no hopes of getting out of this. Angelo is gone, Victor is a fucking traitor, and Saint… He can’t do anything without the two of them.
I nod, though, wiping at my eyes. The tears hadn’t fallen, though it had been a near thing, and now that I know how many people are watching, I’m more determined than ever not to cry.
“Yes, sir,” I say quietly.
“Good.” Pavone suddenly spits in my face, the glob of saliva slowly rolling down my cheek as I stare at him in shock. I don’t know how anything he does can surprise me anymore, but I hadn’t expected that. “Now get the fuck out of my sight.”
I don’t hesitate.
It’s all I can do not to run up the stairs.
26
LUCIA
My neck is still bruised and red when I go out to the city for my final wedding dress fitting. Pavone is reluctant to let me leave, but he can’t exactly have a bride without a dress. The man he sends along is older, with an extremely bored expression.
“You don’t have to come into the store. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t,” I tell him. “I don’t want anybody to see me in the dress before the wedding.”
