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“Every time you look at her, you’ll be punished. Do you understand?” I growled at him. Mia looked at me and rolled her eyes, but I could see the amusement churning beneath them. She liked this side of me, I realized. It turned me on more than I wanted to admit. “Talk,” I reminded him.
He looked up again, but this time he only dared to look at me. “The boss gave us all a message. He knew you’d keep one of us if the fight went poorly. He said that you have his daughter, and he’s given you enough time to consider your next steps. He demands that you give her back, or he’ll continue this game, only next time he’ll send enough men that you won’t have a chance at escaping. He has the backing of the Commission and the other three families, and they intend to launch a full assault if you don’t return what belongs to him.”
Mia gasped. “I don’t belong to anybody,” she spat.
His gaze drifted to her, and I slid the blade across his lower abdomen this time. He hissed through the pain and closed his eyes, only looking at the floor. “It’s just a message,” he said through the pain. “He believes you do, and you’re his daughter, so by the law of the Commission youdobelong to him.”
I didn’t know what I’d expected next, but Mia’s reaction was far from it. She moved too quickly for me to consider what she was doing. She grabbed one of the largest, angriest-looking knives from the stand. She moved toward him, and I knew she had every intention of killing him for his statement. I could only take a step forward as she raised the knife and went to plunge it into his chest. But the looseness of his ropes allowed him to move his own hands, grabbing the sharp end of the blade with a hiss and jerking it from her grasp. He had just enough leeway to wrap an arm around Mia’s throat and press the edge of the dagger into the side of it.
I tensed, and every part of my body froze. If she wouldn’t have been so angry—so sporadic—Mia would have never been in that position. She never would’ve been reckless enough to be caught in such a way. The ten dead men in my kitchen proved that.
The man looked smug, and as my guard attempted to lift his restraints, Mia’s feet left the floor as the grip on her throat tightened. She made a gurgled sound of distress, and the guard released the tension immediately. He had such a tight grip that if we attempted to lift him, we’d hang Mia alongside him. And if I moved forward… The knife at her throat pressed into the side hard enough that a small bead of blood was already drawn.
“Here’s the deal. Release me right now, or she’s dead.”
“If you kill her, you have no leverage,” I remind him.
She gasped, wincing at the pressure he added to the knife. I couldn’t imagine being stiller. “If I don’t, I know what happens next. You’ll kill me anyways. I either get out of here and she lives, or I die. And if I die, so does she.”
For the first time in my life, I had no idea what to do or how to proceed. I’d never felt as helpless as I did in this moment. I would give up a million prisoners for her safety, but I didn’t trust that she’d be safe if I let him go. I didn’t know what to do, so I gestured for the guard to release the ropes. Mia fell from her tippy toes onto her flat feet with a deep exhale, and I watched as he took a step, pushing her forward with him. Mia’s eyes were glazed with both fear and anger, and I watched as he took a second step.
This time, he stumbled slightly over the placement of Mia’s foot, and she struck. She pushed the sharp end of the knife from her throat, twisting his wrist until he was forced to drop it. He still held her around the throat with his arm, and in an attempt to maintain control, he leaned back, pulling her from her feet again. But she seemed to anticipate it. She tucked her knees and rolled over him, knocking him to the ground and freeing herself.
She turned as if to attack him again, but I moved between them. I saw the fear in his eyes as he realized he’d lost every hint of leverage he’d thought he had. I kneeled atop him and rested the blade against his throat as Mia kicked away the other knife. I glanced up at the small trickle of blood that came from her neck, and my jaw ticked. I wanted so badly to kill him right here and watch the life drain from his eyes, but there were many more things that could be done. Manyworsethings. “I was going to give you an honorable death,” I whispered, pushing the blade into his neck enough to leave a painful and shallow cut. As I spoke, I drug it slowly across his neck. “But taking my time will be fun with you.”
He tried to lift his head as if to slice his own throat and end the torture he knew he’d receive, but I pulled away just in time. I held his forehead to the ground with one hand. “You made her bleed,” I told him, the sneer on my face only growing. I didn’t know if I should show this side of myself to Mia, but right now I didn’t particularly care. “I’m going to return that favor.”
I pressed the tip of my knife into his eye slowly, and the man screamed. He continued screaming as I twisted it, adding pressure and twisting deeper. I pushed just far enough that I knew the injury wouldn’t kill him, and then I withdrew the knife. “I have a man here who specializes in all sorts of painful torture. He’s good at it, and I’ll make sure he takes his time with you.” He continued screaming as he tried to blink away the pain. Nothing would help him now. “And maybe, after you’re blind and deaf—after you’ve lost all your fingers and toes—we’ll let you loose in the woods and see if you can find your way home. Maybe we’ll see if you’re even capable of killing yourself before the elements get to you.”
Mia rested a hand on my back, and I stiffened, looking over my shoulder at her. I anticipated her to show some kind of mercy. I expected her to ask me to stop, but when I saw her cruel expression, I knew that we were on the same page. For giving her a scratch, I’d make his death long, slow and painful.
21
MIA GENOVESE
I’d grown up around brutality, but I hadn’t thought it had become a part of me. I never thought I’d enjoy it, but when Vincent snarled down at the man who’d intended to hurt me, I realized that a part of me would always appreciate it. Vincent coming to my defense had been the most eye-opening thing I’d ever experienced, and I realized at that moment that everything had changed.
This was more my home than the Genovese estate had ever been. The loyalty Vincent had demonstrated today had been more intense and true than anything I’d ever experienced with my biological family, and I knew I was freer here than I had been anywhere. I was safer and more cared for. I could finally be unapologetically myself, and Vincent wouldn’t shy away from a moment of it. I’d thought that I hated him, but I simply hadn’t known him. Not until now.
I followed him into his room, the adrenaline finally wearing off with each step we took. When we reached the door and he opened it, I went immediately to his bed, sitting at the end of it and allowing my eyes to close as I buried my face into my hands. I listened as Vincent moved around the room, and though I wondered what he was doing, I didn’t ask. I needed a moment to close my eyes before I got myself cleaned up and ready for bed. I needed a moment to shut it all off and stop thinking about how all of this was my fault, and there was nothing I could do to fix it.
The faucet turned on for a few seconds, and I finally opened my eyes, finding Vincent concentrating as he filled a small bowl, a washcloth hanging over the edge. “What are you doing?” I asked.
He didn’t even glance at me as he turned off the water and made his way to my side. “I’m cleaning up my wife,” he told me, dropping to his knees in front of me. It surprised me as he dipped the cloth into the water and stood, placing a finger beneath my chin and lifting it. He began dabbing my forehead with the warm cloth, bringing it all the way down the side of my face where I’d felt my blood run earlier. When he dipped it back into the bowl, the clear water became clouded with red, and he rang it out carefully. I watched as he focused on cleaning around the cut without giving me an ounce of discomfort. He did the same to the small cut on the side of my throat, and when he finished, the bowl was soaked red with my blood. I hadn’t realized I’d lost so much.
“I think a few butterfly stitches should work well enough on your forehead,” he said, pulling a small first aid bag from where he’d placed it behind me. I hadn’t even realized he’d put it there. He pulled an alcohol swab from the bag and opened it, looking between it and my forehead uncertainly. He shocked me again as he lunged forward and captured my lips with his, nibbling on the bottom one in a way that had me melting into him. A slight sting on my forehead was overpowered by the warmth of his tongue sweeping across mine before he pulled away with a smirk.
I noted the red tinge on the alcohol wipe, and I almost laughed at the absurdity of his actions. “You could have just wiped my head,” I laughed.
“I think the distraction worked,” he said, placing the wipe down and kissing the cut. I released a breath, chuckling slightly as he finished with the butterfly stitches and a piece of gauze. He stopped and dropped back to his knees, and it shocked me as he lay his head in my lap. I grabbed a fistful of his silky black hair and ran my fingers through the slightly tangled strands as he rested his head there.
“We’re going to figure everything out,” I promised him. I considered telling him my entire truth—that I’d come here with the intention of killing him and giving my father what he wanted. I considered telling him what I’d thought about him and all the lies my father had told me over the years. But right now wasn’t the time. I’d tell him soon. Once this whole situation settled, he deserved to know every single cruel and horrible detail of my plans, and I knew he’d forgive me. After all, he’d intended to kill me to send a message, and everything had changed for him, too. Everything had changed for both of us, and he deserved to know everything. Just…not right now.
“I don’t know if there’s anything to figure out. He has all the alliances and all the backing he needs to take out my family name. He just has to pull the trigger.” His voice was muffled in my leg, and I shook my head, thinking through everything. He orchestrated this attack to send a message. I had no doubt about that, but why would he bother with a message if he already had everyone’s backing? I knew it was possible, but I didn’t fully believe the messenger. The Commission knew he’d killed Vincent’s sister, and in their eyes, I knew that Vincent would be entirely justified in taking me. That was how they ran things.
“I don’t believe that,” I admitted. “We’re missing something. If he had that, he would’ve alreadypulled the trigger.”
“You’re still here, and he wants you to be safe.”
