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Giovanni swiftly downs the expensive Scotch, savoring its taste on his lips as he smacks them together. The sound echoes through the hallways of the mansion, carrying with it a sinister air that freezes the blood in my veins. “Because it’s odd that you would want to keep your stepdaughter around after she was no longer legally your stepdaughter.”
“This all goes back to three years ago?”
“Precisely,” Giovanni confirms. “You should have made her come to Kansas City. She had a duty to fulfill. Instead, you kept her here and filled her head with nonsense. She thinks she’s free, but she will learn the hard way that she isn’t. She is a Lucatello,and her future has been determined for her since the day she was conceived.”
A surge of revulsion rises within me at Giovanni’s callous disregard for Christine’s autonomy. “You may arrange your own daughters’ marriages as you see fit,” I retort, my voice seeping with indignation. “But you donothave my consent to arrange a marriage for Christine. Nor do you have hers.”
Giovanni’s laughter reverberates through the room, a booming sound that echoes off the ornate walls. It carries a malevolence that makes my skin crawl, a haunting chorus of darkness that will undoubtably haunt my dreams. “I don’t require your consent, Niccolo,” he jeers, a smirk on full display. “You are well aware of our ways. You know our laws. You know that she is the family’s property until she is married off, then she becomes another man’s property. She does not own her freedom or her independence.”
I grew up under the same tutelage as my brothers. I was taught the weight of familial expectations and the unyielding grip of tradition. I knew that my father was made the Castiglione’s Consigliere when I was just a little boy. I didn’t reject their teachings; I chose a different path. And though my father never understood why, he let me do it without punishment.
Christine doesn’t have the same choice. Her family’s darkness runs deeper than mine, their insatiable hunger now threatening to ruin her life. They want everything from Christine, and they’re willing to break her to get it.
“She is my daughter and?—”
“No,” Giovanni cuts me off with a glare as he gets to his feet. “She was only ever yourstepdaughter. She does not bear your name.If she did, the two of you carrying on as you have would be even more despicable. She is a Lucatello, and therefore, as the elder of the family, she is mine.”
A frown furrows my brow. “Leonardo is the elder,” I correct. “Is this what your father wants?”
“Father is…retiring…from leading the family.” Giovanni’s jaw tightens in time with his fists, and the vein in his forehead throbs. “I’m taking over. Whatever he wanted is no longer important. All that matters is whatIwant.”
Did Leonardo Lucatello envision a future where Christine would be bound to marry a ruthless killer?
Giovanni continues. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll send Christine back to me. If I have to hunt her down myself, there will be consequences. She might not get off lightly with a slap on the face next time.”
The primal beast within me claws at the surface, craving release, yearning to dismantle Giovanni piece by piece. “Touch her again,threaten her again, and mark my words, Giovanni, you will suffer. I will chop your dick off, burn it to a crisp, and force it down your throat. Are we clear?”
He smirks like my threat is meaningless. Then he looks at me in a way that reminds me of Dante, a look that says he doesn’t think much of me. “You finally sound like a real Terlizzi. Too bad it’s too late.” The smirk fades from his face, replaced by a thin line carved into his lips like granite. “Christine will marry Rocco, whether you accept it or not. If you play your role as expected, perhaps I will even grant you the honor of walking her down the aisle and giving her away.”
Chapter 26
Christine
“Jesus Christ,” Kaye exclaims in disbelief as I climb into her sleek Model 3 red Tesla. “What the hell happened to you?”
I reach a trembling hand up to touch my throbbing cheek, wincing as my fingers graze the swollen flesh. A sharp, searing pain shoots through my face like a bolt of lightning. “God damn it,” I grumble, my voice laced with frustration, “can we please stop somewhere to get some ice? This hurts like a bitch.”
Without taking her foot off the brake, Kaye glances at me, her eyes filled with concern. “Seriously, Chris, what the hell happened?”
My impatience gets the better of me as panic sets in. If my uncle leaves the house now, he might see us. “Just drive, Kaye! Before Giovanni finds me here.”
“Giovanni?” Her voice quivers with uncertainty as she eases off the brake. “Your uncle? I thought Nic did this to you.”
Fumbling with the visor, my hands shaking with anxiety, I open it to reveal a compact mirror. As I catch sight of my reflection,Kaye’s concern makes sense. My lip is bleeding, and my cheek is swollen and turning an ugly shade of purple. Panic pulses through my veins. “Nic would never hurt me,” I tell her quietly.
Kaye snorts her disapproval and ignores me when I shoot her a glare. “Why did your uncle do this to you then?” She asks.
Ignoring her judgmental gaze, I slam the visor shut with a frustrated thud. How could I have been so blind? How did I let myself get that close to Niccolo? I should have trusted my instincts and listened to the inner voice screaming at me to stay away from my stepfather. But I let pleasure cloud my judgment, and now I’m paying the price.
“Hello? Earth to Chris.” Kaye’s voice cuts through my racing thoughts like a blade, snapping me back to the present moment. “Tell me what’s going on. You can trust me.”
Trust her.I repeat the words in my mind, desperately searching for the courage to confide in my best friend. Taking a deep breath, I realize it’s now or never. “My family wants to marry me off to a man who’s killed his other wives, and Giovanni said he’d rather see me dead than with Niccolo,” the words tumble out in a frantic blur, my voice barely above a whisper.
Kaye’s jaw drops open, her eyes widening in shock and disbelief. In a moment of distraction, she carelessly runs a stop sign without even realizing it. “What the fuck!” she exclaims, but there’s no time to dwell on the revelation I just dropped on her. The sight of red and blue lights fills the rearview mirror, followed quickly by a blaring police siren.
It’s a fitting break in the conversation. Kaye pulls over, her jaw still agape in astonishment. As we wait for the police officer toapproach her window, she stares at me, trying to process what I just opened up to her about.
“Ma’am,” the police officer taps on Kaye’s car door. “Do you know that you ran a stop sign back there?”
