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“I thought you were brave, but you look more like a coward right now. Live a little with me, Gemma. You want freedom? This is the way to get it. Now, pull. The. Trigger.”
She screams as her finger presses down. Another click of the gun. Gemma slumps forward, breathing heavily. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”
“Good girl.” I take the gun back and point it at my head and shoot. Nothing. No bullet, no pian, no blood. “See?”
“Fuck you.”
“Try it again.”
She growls as she grabs the gun from me and presses it against her temple. “If I die, I’m coming back as a ghost to haunt you.” She crunches up her face as she pulls the trigger.
… and relaxes when she realizes she’s still alive.
“Just two more rounds. One of these rounds has the bullet.”
“Well, you’re turn. Either you die or live. If you die, I’m free of you. And if you live, I’ll know not to put that damn gun to my head.”
I wink. “I like your logic.” I stare down at the gun for a moment. Then I point the gun to the ceiling and fire.
The loudpopof the gunshot makes Gemma fall back, screaming. I laugh harder than I have in a long time.
“I guess we both live. I told you to trust me, didn’t I?” I pat her cheek. “I don’t want you dead, Gemma. You’re too interesting.” She wraps her mouth around the side of my hand, biting down hard.
I wince, pulling back to see tiny drops of blood fall down my hand. Then I smile. “You’re wild. Like me.”
“Let me go, Viktor. Let me go!”
“No. I’m good.” I turn and walk out of the room, Gemma screaming after me.
CHAPTER5
Gemma
Afew minutes after Viktor’s departure, I finally force myself off the bed and into the bathroom, where I huddle in a corner, trying to stop myself from having a heart attack.
What crazy person makes someone play Russian Roulette? Viktor, that’s who.
I always wanted freedom, but not at the expense of my life. Viktor will kill me one of these days, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop him. And what about Franco? The bastard told Viktor he doesn’t care if I’m ok or not. I always knew Franco was terrible, but that just confirmed it. He’s in control of my family. If any of my other siblings were taken, would Franco help them? It’s a scary thought, knowing my family is at his mercy.
I remember after my father’s funeral two years ago when Franco decided to move into our house without anyone’s permission. He took my father’s place, even though Antonio was supposed to take over the family business. Franco claimed that Antonio was too young at twelve years old and that someone older needed to be in charge temporarily. In the past two years, Franco hasn’t shown any move to leave my family alone. In fact, he’s only shown he wants to sink his claws deeper into them.
The reason he doesn’t want me there is because he knows he can’t control me. The issue is, I have no power to protect my family. I never cared to before. That was my mom and Emilia’s job. They protected me and the rest of my siblings from Franco. It was only at my party that I got a real taste for who he is.
It makes me think of what my older sister and mom did for me, what I took for granted.
There was an incident, about a year ago, when I snuck out of the house to go a club, and not even making it down the driveway, a dog ran in front of me, making me swerve. I crashed the car into a light pole.
Franco was pissed.
“Where did you think you were going?” he screamed, his face turning red. I was sitting on the couch, my arms crossed, trying my best to look bored. “Sneaking out? You’re a menace, little girl.”
“I’m not a little girl,” I snapped back.
“Gemma, watch it,” Mom scolded me. She always scolded me.
“You’re going to take his side?” I said, pointing at Franco.
Franco stepped in front of my mom. “Of course, she is. She knows I’m the head of this household. And what I say goes. And I say you’re punished for sneaking out and wrecking the car.”
