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He pats his breast pocket and winks. “You remember Iris Young, my former nanny, don’t you, darling?”
I nod, still kneeling before him, trying desperately to stay still despite the rocking movements of the car.
“Well…” he laughs out loud. “Portia is about to join her. Strokes are so damaging, aren’t they, my darling? I have a bed set up beside my beloved nanny and they can keep each other company. My aim is to liberate them to my home and allow them to spin beside Wesley in the future, but for now they will live out their days waiting for my next move, not knowing what or when that will be.”
Once again, he pats the top of my head and grins. “So, Portia and her friend become my latest casualties. I’m guessing the person with her intends on challenging my authority, so they must be quite powerful. I’m really hoping it’s one of your friends, Winter. Wouldn’t that be delightful watching me tear him apart in my dungeon? I’ll even allow you to assist me. So much fun is on the horizon, wouldn’t you agree?”
I feel sick inside, hoping to God he’s wrong, but maintain a blank expression and smile.
“I can’t wait, my darling.”
He sighs and for a moment looks like a boy searching for his mother as he says in a small voice, “I need a hug.”
He takes my hand and pulls me onto his knee and whispers, “Hug me, my darling. Show me how much you love me.”
It takes all my strength to wrap my arms around his neck and as he rocks me like a baby, he makes small pitiful noises, like an animal in pain. Then he looks up and before I register what’s happening, his lips fasten against mine and he forces his tongue down my throat as he grips my head hard, forcing me to accept the most disgusting kiss of my life as his saliva fills my mouth making me gag.
Without warning, he slaps me away and shrieks, “You fucking whore! What are you doing?”
I’m in shock as he strikes me around the face again and again before slamming my head against the window.
I can’t fight the fear that engulfs me and just when I think he’s about to end my life, the car stops suddenly and he says pleasantly, “Gather yourself together, my darling. I hope you’re hungry. I know I am.”
To anyone watching, he is the image of a successful businessman and I look like a cheap whore who serviced him on the way over. My clothes are creased and my hair is all over the place. I’m guessing the throbbing in my face is the result of a damaging bruise and my neck is sore where he nearly squeezed the life out of me. I’m almost positive my lipstick is smeared across my face and the tears in my eyes are causing my make-up to streak. I am far from the perfect doll right now and I’m fearful about what that means for me. I am imperfect, soiled and broken. I am fast approaching my use by date and the only possible outcome will be a cruel and painful transition to hell.
We stop suddenly and as the door opens, Massimo steps out and offers me his hand.
As I step into the light, I see the unguarded look of horror on Massimo’s soldier’s face before it is replaced by indifference. I walk beside my abuser as if I’m walking to the gallows because I know how this works. Massimo is out to cause havoc and pain, and it appears the person first in line for that is me.
CHAPTER6
ALESSANDRO
My gun is heavy against my heart, reminding me what’s at stake. As I observe the two new diners heading into the restaurant, it’s safe in the knowledge I’m concealed from view. I pay attention to the woman eagerly, searching her expression, wondering if she knows how serious this is.
I’m guessing she must be in her sixties, but you would never guess. Apparently, surgery has been kind to her because every inch of skin appears to have been nipped and tucked into place, defying nature’s best intentions.
Portia Symmons is a fine-looking woman, and the fact my grandfather’s hand is placed on the small of her back signifies an ownership and an intimacy that sickens me.
I am trying to remember the last time he escorted my grandmother anywhere. I’m guessing his nights are spent with different company and Nonna is probably happy to be off the hook.
It’s well known my grandfather likes the women. He’s an Italian Stallion of the greediest kind.
The way Portia smiles up at him and flutters her eyelashes tells me she adores him, and I fight back a grin because the old man is a player and I suppose he always will be.
I’m pretty certain the sparkling diamond around her neck would be a gift from him, and I’m guessing the fake tits are also a well-earned reward.
I watch with interest as they take their seats facing the door so they can observe the man of the hour and his soon to be widow walk on stage.
The maitre d fusses over my grandfather and Portia as if they are visiting royalty and as soon as he heads off to bring their drinks, I endure them fawning over each other like teenagers on a date after the game.
All the time my mind is wired when I think about what happens next. Finally, I will be in the same room, breathing the same oxygen as the woman I love, and I’m not sure how I’ll deal with that.
Twenty minutes pass and I can tell my grandfather is getting angrier by the second. He is the most impatient man I know and even the hand job Portia gave him under the table hasn’t mellowed his mood.
Then the door opens, and I swear my heart almost gives out on me when Massimo Delauren and Winter walk into the packed room.
Nothing prepares me for seeing her in the flesh for the first time in two years. It’s as if the years melt away and I’m seeing her walking from Principal Stoner’s office. I don’t do feelings and certainly never emotion, but watching her slight body move through the restaurant, it’s a direct hit straight to my heart.
