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He took delivery of his best friend six days ago. Wesley Vasquez. Flynn’s father, as it happens. He betrayed him and Massimo is not big on forgiveness. At first, I endured the screams through the open doorway of the cell next to mine. I heard him pleading for his life while Massimo tortured him in revenge for something that happened over twenty years ago. He took Massimo’s daughter from him and replaced her with Flynn. Just thinking of the pain my friend suffered because of that decision makes me relish the suffering of the man who caused it.
That was two days ago. Now the screams have become silent, and Massimo hasn’t been back. Is Wesley dead? Is Massimo dead too? I wish I knew.
I must have fallen asleep because the sound of my cell opening brings me to my feet and my husband stands before me, appearing in a better mood than when he put me here.
“My darling, Winter, how I’ve missed you.”
He approaches my cage and shakes his head. “We really need to get you cleaned up, my darling. Your hair is a mess and there is dirt on your face.”
I feel an icy chill creeping over me because Massimo detests dirt. Any hint of imperfection sends him into a rage, and I wonder if this is just another one of his mind games to unsettle me.
He unlocks the cage and offers me his hand and as I take it, his hated fingers close around mine.
“Come, we will clean you up and then I have a special treat lined up for you.”
My heart beats frantically in case it involves another dinner with one of my friends. I dread them like the plague because they rip my heart out every time. Knowing I can’t react and must keep my fear and pain hidden because my role is to convince every single one of them I’m happy with my husband. If they suspect I’m not, they may try to rescue me and, knowing Massimo, I would be made to watch him cut them to pieces before my eyes. I play my part for their own safety, and it hurts like hell when I witness their shocked looks of pity, knowing there is nothing they can do to save me.
We wander to the dressing room and, as always, I stand on the pedestal in the center of the room while Massimo indulges his hobby of washing and dressing me like a human doll. He is never interested in me for sexual gratification. His preference is young men, but he does love to make up my face, style my hair and paint my nails. He selects the finest clothes from a room dripping with the best of everything, and it gives him great pride to parade me around on his arm in my role as his loyal, loving wife.
When we return, if I have pleased him, I earn a night with my son. If not, I am returned to my ‘shelf’ as he calls it and left there until required. This is my life, and I have learned to remove all emotion from my heart. There is no expectation and no hope for freedom. I just take each minute as it comes and hope I survive to the next one.
Once I am dressed in a pale blue trouser suit with matching nails and my hair swept up in an intricate updo, he says critically, “I had wanted to bleach your hair but as it turns out, there is no need for that.”
I say nothing and walk with him through the corridors of his fortress and am surprised when he stops at the top of the staircase and says with excitement.
“I have something to show you. I think you’ll like it.”
I try to look interested, and he smiles, leaning forward and dropping the lightest kiss on my painted lips.
“So beautiful, my darling. An exquisite work of art. Now you will enjoy the rest of my art collection.”
I follow him in surprise as he leads me to the other side of the staircase toward another one and as we reach the top, he presses his hand against the biometric entry system and the steel door slides open, revealing a huge room that is completely white. It resembles a hospital, but the chandeliers that hang from the ceiling tell of a much more luxurious place, and I gaze in awe at a magnificent gold chandelier designed like a statue, spinning around and shining as it catches the light.
It looks almost life sized, and I wonder how heavy it is. Is it pure gold? I wouldn’t put that past my husband because he appears to have more money than sense and always enjoys the finest money can buy.
Beneath it is a glass chamber, and as we step across the room, Massimo grips my hand tightly and whispers, “I want you to meet someone special, Winter.”
My heart almost gives out on me when I notice a body inside. It appears to be lying on white silk and there are fresh flowers placed carefully on top of it. I move closer and stare at the portrait of a beautiful woman hanging above it, surrounded by a solid gold frame and I hold my breath when I register how beautiful she was. Long blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes stare out of the painting with a soft smile on her ruby red lips. She is dressed in white. In fact, it looks like a wedding dress, and she is happy. I see it in her eyes.
“Meet Imogen, my wife.”
Massimo sounds so proud, reverent even, and it’s as if he’s a different person entirely. He is humbled in front of this woman and as he stares up at her, I’m surprised when a small tear edges from his eye.
“I love her.” His voice is soft, and I strain to listen as he whispers, “She is the most beautiful woman in the world. We are in love, aren’t we, my darling?”
He stares at the painting and smiles and, for some reason, it breaks my heart.
“This is Winter. Remember I told you about her? She is my new toy.”
He turns and says in a whisper, “Say hello to my wife, Winter, don’t be shy.”
“Um, hello Imogen. I’m, um, pleased to meet you.”
The woman in the painting smiles down at me and then Massimo shocks me by lying flat against the glass and wailing as if he’s in the greatest torment.
It feels so wrong to be here and I’m not sure what to do and then he stands up and says angrily, “My wife was murdered by our daughter. You heard the story. My beautiful wife gave her life so my daughter could live, and she was stolen from me before I could even meet her.”
He stares at me, and I hate the madness in his eyes as he growls, “They think they are so clever. All of them. My former nanny, my best friend, and then your own friends from college.”
