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“Fuck.”
I rang my brother immediately after Lucy and I hung up last night and filled him in.
“Go home and wait there. I’ll go to Lucy’s place and see what I can work out. It’ll be fine, Alessia. Lucy is smart. She would’ve listened. I’ll see if I can talk sense into her, too.”
Salvatore hangs up, and while I should feel reassured by his comfort, dread has overcome me, and I know it won’t go away until I can put eyes on my best friend.
I pull up outside our home with a screech of my tires. Only my dad’s car sits in the driveway, and I breathe a sigh of relief. He’d have more of his soldiers here if he were doing damage control.
Walking through the house, I pace back and forth, trying Lucy’s cell again.
“Why aren’t you at school?”
I startle at my father’s voice. Swallowing, I turn toward him. “Lucy wasn’t at school, and I can’t reach her.”
Edoardo doesn’t think I know he’s a predator. He’s unaware of the fact I know he’s guilty of the most heinous of crimes.
I watch his face carefully when I speak Lucy’s name, but he remains impassive.
He shrugs. “I wouldn’t worry yourself with her whereabouts moving forward. She was always bad news. Get back to school.”
He dismisses me by walking away, and while I know I should be wary, I follow him.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He turns on me at the threshold of his office. “I told you to leave.”
There is no room for interpretation. My father is giving me a direct order, his voice laced with irritation and impatience.
I ignore the threat in his tone.
“And I asked you what you meant.”
A dark snicker breaks from his lips, and he moves into his office, expecting me to follow. “I knew when we found out that we were having twins, and one of them was a girl, that I should’ve forced your mother to terminate.”
I stare at his back, rage consuming me.
“I never imagined you’d be so insolent. But you seem to have adopted a stupid notion that you have a voice. I give your brother freedoms that you idiotically believe belong to you as well. You’re nothing, Alessia. Your thoughts, feelings, and threats are inconsequential.”
I knew this was the way my father felt, but hearing his horrible words still cut like a serrated knife to the heart.
“Where is Lucy?” I reject my own feelings and my fear.
He ignores me.
“I know you’re sleeping with her,” I divulge. “You’re disgusting. She’s a child.”
He stalks toward me, and it takes everything within me not to cower at his fury. Rage widens his eyes and tightens the grimace of his lips. A vein in his forehead pulsates with the chaos of his temper.
“If your friend wanted to open her legs for me, that’s her business.”
I’m shaking, but I keep my spine straight. “You’re a pig.”
He slaps me hard enough that my head swings to the side, and my ears ring with pain. But I swallow down my tears and turn back to face him. Before I can speak, he moves again, this time backhanding me.
The heavy square ring on his index finger slices into my cheek, and the force of his hit is so significant that I stumble.
Grabbing my hair, he yanks it backward, and I scream.
