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His daughter? His own daughter, working in a place like this?
He let her get slapped by the madam right in front of him. The disrespect is repulsive.
And now she’s dressed like a whore waiting for her clients.
So much makes sense. It clicks into place and it sickens me. She kept saying they, they, they, and now I understand. She meant Zita, but alsoher father, Don Bastone, the man that owns this place. The man that owns her.
The horror of it strikes me like a kick to my stomach. I look at Siena and shame blooms in her eyes as she stares at the floor. “I don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head, trying to make sense of a senseless situation.
“Siena is my daughter,” Guido explains. “She lives and works here because of something she did to my family. She’s a traitor, Maxim, and this is the best she deserves. I will not insult you and your father by giving you something like that.” His lips pull down in a sneer as he glances at his own kin. “Believe me, she will pay for this… display.”
His daughter. His own daughter. What could she have done that warranted this?
My mind races. How can I let her stay now, knowing who she is? Knowing what she and I did together that night?
Knowing that I took her virginity?
That girl is mine by rights.
“Whatever she did, I will punish her for it,” I say, my eyes locked on Siena. She looks up sharply, mouth open. “I asked for her, and I’m not changing my mind.”
Guido sighs. “Maxim, this is too much. I cannot allow her to leave. If you knew what she did, surely you’d agree.”
“Then tell me.”
His jaw flexes. “She helped a whore escape. That whore then turned to the police, who raided one of my facilities. The whore in question has since been caught and killed, and now my daughter is here paying for her crime. She’s a traitor.”
I watch Siena carefully. She’s gaping at her father and I can see agony on her face. Her tears double, falling faster. She must not have known that the girl was dead. I almost feel bad. She’s a mafia daughter and she should have known better than to turn her back on her family, even for a supposedly noble cause. The life of one whore is not worth the honor of the bond to her family.
And yet I can’t let this go. The look on Siena’s face drives me wild. She’s wretched with pain and misery, and if I leave now, it’ll only get worse. They’ll grind her to dust and that girl I met one night in a bar will disappear into nothing. They’ll take whatever joy and light is left inside her and ruin it, and all for what? Because she made one foolish mistake? I keep thinking of that night, and the idea of leaving her here in this place, mopping up cum and blood and cleaning toilets for the rest of her days, fucking men whenever that rancid old woman Zita tells her to, sounds like an utter nightmare. Even for a traitor, this is too far and too much.
Another idea hits me. It’s worse than the first, so much worse. The ramifications will be long-lasting and will stretch out through my entire life, and yet I open my mouth and speak. It’s like I have no willpower with Siena around. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring her away from here. No matter the cost.
“Then I will marry her,” I say, my voice a low growl. “Do you find that acceptable, or are there more suitable matches?”
Guido stares in shock. Siena’s face whips up, her eyes wide.
“No!” she says, shaking her head.
“Be quiet,” Guido snaps at her and looks back at me. “Surely you don’t mean this?”
“Are you questioning my word, Don Bastone?”
“I am not, but have you thought this through? I told you, my daughter is a traitor. She works in a whorehouse. You’re the eldest son and heir of the Novalov family.” He gestures in the air, as if that clears everything up.
I know what he’s saying. There are a thousand reasons why this is a huge mistake. She’s too far beneath me in the social hierarchy, her kin are flesh dealers and minor mafia, she’s a traitor, and worst of all, my father will cut my throat before he allows me to take a woman like Siena as my bride.
I step toward Siena and her lower lip trembles.
It convinces me that I have to keep going.
Her face is twisted with a myriad of emotions. Fear, yes, anger, yes, but also longing and want and misery and sorrow.
I caused this in some ways, and I can’t turn my back on her, not the girl that left me in my sleep.
I will not be denied, no matter the consequences.
“Imagine your family’s standing if I marry your daughter,” I say softly to Guido, but I don’t stop staring at her. She meets my eye and chews on her lip, that full, beautiful lip. She’s a traitor and a liar, and hate boils in my guts, but the hate is mixed with a frenzied need that scares me. “Imagine how close to my father you will be. Our businesses will intertwine with each other, and we will both grow stronger as a consequence. Imagine it, Don Bastone. This is your chance, and all you need to do is give me your daughter, a girl you so clearly do not care about.”
