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“I bet you didn’t expect to see me here, did you?” He chuckled darkly, sending a shiver of fear up my spine. That laugh promised pain. “You really thought you could escape me?”
He closed in on me, caging me against the door, his crisp, Italian, custom-tailored suit brushing up against me. I flattened myself against the hard surface, but it was no use, he took up the few inches afforded to him, his presence suffocating me. I focused on his white shirt and the red tie he always paired it with, refusing to meet his eyes. My mind hoped that if I didn’t look at him then he might not be real. I could still trick myself into thinking that I had some chance at escape.
He slipped a finger beneath my chin, much to my chagrin, tilting my face up to meet his. My eyes followed reluctantly, unable to put this off any longer. His jaw ticked in anger as he held himself back, the leash barely containing the monster inside, the one I’d seen let loose too many times to count. Thankfully not on me, not yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time. The real possibility of it being this time felt more like reality with every heartbeat. He could barely control his anger, and he had been close, far too close to taking it out on me last week. Which was one of the main reasons that pushed me to take this step today.
His mahogany-brown eyes sparkled with triumph as I met them, and I could almost see the beast caged just beneath them, rattling at its cage, begging to be set free. His black hair was perfectly styled, like always, not a strand out of place. He was attractive, that was for sure, that was what drew me to him in the first place. But his outside didn’t reflect the person he was on the inside. He was cold, controlling, and emotionally abusive to list a few of his faults.
“Tommaso, please,” I begged, knowing it wouldn’t do any good, but I still had to try.
“Please what, mi amore?” he whispered, the caress of his warm breath teasing my skin. Goosebumps rose along my skin as I suppressed the shudder that begged to run over my body. A mixture of desire and revulsion swirled in my gut, my response sickening me even more. I hated that my body still responded to him despite everything he’d done, everything he would do to me.
“Please, let me go,” I pleaded, my voice shaking, betraying the fear coursing through my body. I internally scolded myself for how weak I sounded, for what he made me become. I wasn’t this woman, the one to beg for her freedom, but this was my only shot, no matter how slim it may be.
“You know that will never happen. You’re mine, now and forever. I’ll never let you go,” he vowed, anger darkening his confession, his lips mere inches from mine. I inhaled sharply, my hatred growing for him even more as his lips lowered on mine. I wished I could push him away, I wished I could bolt from this room and hop on that plane like I’d hoped.
Not a second later, his hand fisted in my hair, pulling it as he devoured me, and my lips parted under the force. Pain radiated from my scalp as he continued to crush his lips to mine, and I pulled in desperate, ragged breaths through my nose, screaming into his mouth from the ache.
He pulled back, yanking on my head to force me to look up at him. I winced and an unbidden gasp of agony escaped before I could reel it in. His eyes lit up at the noise, loving the power he had over me, the control. I should’ve known I wouldn’t be able to get away, not like this. I should’ve driven to another state, another city, and left from there, because of course he would have people at the airport here in New York. I’d let my desperation cloud my judgment, and now I might never get the chance to try again.
“This was your last straw, Giana. I’ve given you so much. I let you put off the wedding to focus on school, on your career, but enough is enough.” His voice was distraught and full of pain. A spark of outrage flickered inside me, at the sheer audacity. But this was his game. He made it sound like he was the victim, like I’d gone into this relationship willingly.
He clutched me to his chest, and I stood there limply, letting him embrace me as his hand finally released my hair, sliding down to wrap around my shoulders. I choked back the sob of relief that shook my chest, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. But he must’ve felt it against him since his grip on me tightened, apparently mistaking it as a reaction to his touch.
“You’ve forced my hand, mi amore. No more threats to keep you in line. I have no choice.” He cradled my head against his chest, as though he was attempting to comfort me whenhewas the monster I needed to be protected from.Hewas the one causing me this pain. “We’re going home, for good.”
I sucked in a startled breath, not having expected those words. Home—I’m not sure such a place could ever exist for me. And that place certainly would never be my home.
This was worse, so much worse than I could’ve imagined. Our hometown held too many memories, too much heartache that I’d tried to repress, that I’d tried to bury beneath all the trauma. Tommaso and his family owned the small town in Connecticut that we came from. If I thought he was powerful here in the huge city, he would be unstoppable there. They paid off everyone and took what they wanted. And with his father back in the picture, my future grew bleaker and bleaker with each passing second.
A shiver ran over me and he soothed a hand over my back, rubbing the exposed skin there, mistakenly interpreting the tremor as relief rather than the fear that slithered up my spine. But I only had myself to blame, and I’d be reminded of that time and time again if we went back. I chose this to save them. They’d never know though, they’d always view me as a monster, on the same level as my husband-to-be it seemed. If I thought there was no one to save me here in New York, there wouldn’t be a single soul that would lift a finger to help me there.
And the few that would’ve, I was sure they’d rather see me six-feet-under than ever come to my aid again.
Chapter two
Giana
Now
Well,atleastsomethingwent according to plan today. No one was hurt and I’m on a plane, just not to Vancouver.I stared out the window longingly, wishing today had gone how it was supposed to. I should have been sitting in coach on a commercial flight to Vancouver. Instead, I was sitting on a private jet, heading to the worst place imaginable. Rather than strangers next to me and the back of a headrest obstructing my view, I had guards and a monster ahead of me.
So I kept my gaze trained out the window, retreating into my mind. In my imagination, I had made it. I was on a flight to the West Coast, anxiety and excitement mixing in my gut at the next step. I had made it to a drugstore to dye my dirty-blonde hair to black before hopping on the cruise ship to Alaska, my fake passport being the key to a new life.
Clouds obscured my view, and the houses, offices, and people below us faded into nothing, bringing me back to my reality. There was no one that could save me now, no one that would save me, not after everything I’d done. I thought I was helping them, and I knew what the cost was when I did it, but somehow it had always been too hard to swallow. They stuck in the back of my mind, before I slept, before my dreams turned to nightmares. I imagined what could have been, if I’d been honest, if I hadn’t been too afraid.
My chest tightened with dread, and my hand itched to rub there, to soothe the ache, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He preyed on signs of weakness, soaking it in as though he needed it to live. I refused to give him any more power.
The shutter over the window slapped closed, jolting me from my thoughts. I blinked to adjust my vision, only now realizing how blurred it had gotten as I retreated into myself, the only safe place I knew … at least until I closed my eyes. I was left staring at the back of Tommaso’s hand as he waited for me to draw my gaze back to him. I couldn’t help but stare a moment longer, lingering in the dark thoughts that crossed my mind. The action was a metaphor for what he did to me, trapped me away, cut off the light, along with the hope of a life beyond his world.
“Look at me,” he growled, the tone menacing but borderline desperate. My lips twitched, reveling in my small act of defiance. But I knew my seconds were numbered. I either had to give him my attention or he’d make me, and I couldn’t allow him that win.
I turned to him slowly, needing the small act of resistance to keep myself present. His smooth jaw ticked with anger but he swallowed it back, not wanting to make a scene in front of his guards. If we were alone though …
“Yes?” I asked, in a singsong voice. I knew I was pushing my luck, but I couldn’t help it. Anger mixed with fear burned in my veins, as though I was starting to wake up for the first time in years.
“I think you owe me an apology, mi amore,” he sneered, the term of endearment a mocking joke on his tongue. He didn’t love me, despite telling me often enough and calling me his love. He had no more room in his heart to fit anyone else, not with how much he loved himself. “Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?”
I choked down my laugh, knowing that would be pushing it too far. He would tolerate my small acts of rebellion, but to outwardly go against him to his face? No, he wouldn’t let that stand.
