Page 5 of Romeo Pagani

I stayed silent as I trudged down the hallway lined with pictures of me and Rafael as we were growing up. There were very few smiles, all of them looking so serious. That was what the Paganis were though: serious.

“Tell me,” my father demanded as I moved into his study. It was bigger than Lorenzo’s at the mansion, and that was saying something. But that was because it doubled as a torture chamber. More than half of the room was covered floor to ceiling in heavy plastic sheeting, and part of me wondered when was the last time this was used. He still worked for Lorenzo, just not as often, but if Lorenzo needed something—or someone—dealt with, that my father’s skills were required for, there was no doubt this was where it would take place.

“Tell you what?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. I was a few inches taller than my father, had been since the moment I’d turned fifteen, but height never intimidated a man like Antonio Pagani.

His nostrils flared, his lips lifting into a sneer. “What’s happening at the mansion?”

My gaze tracked the corners of the room, hating that I had no choice but to tell this mansomething. He wouldn’t let me leave until I did, and I needed to get out of here ASAP. I hadn’t been here more than ten minutes, and already everything was invading my senses, my thoughts, my emotions. Fuck. I hated it here.

“Navy had her baby,” I blurted out. It was the first thing that came to me, and the least taxing thing to tell him. “I delivered it.” I swallowed as I remembered her going into labor and us not having time to get to a hospital. Lorenzo, Dante, and I had walked her through it, none of us knowing what we should and shouldn’t do, but I had known that I had to be calm to try and keep everyone else calm.

The moment little Dario had come out and I held him, I knew then that I’d do anything to protect the little man. He may have been my second cousin, but for all intents and purposes, I was his uncle,andhis godfather. I smiled, remembering how Dante and Navy had asked me a couple of days ago. I wouldn’t tell my father that though. He’d think it was a weakness.

He nodded, staring at me. “And the business?” I raised a brow, knowing I wouldn’t tell him anything that was taking place. I knew the rules, and so did my father, yet he liked to skirt around them when it suited him. “You can talk freely here,” he added, but when I still didn’t say anything, he blew out a breath. “Fine. Let’s talk about your advancement instead, then.”

“My what?” I frowned, having no idea what he was talking about. My feet were already inching backward, dying to make an escape from him.

“You’re twenty-two, Romeo. It’s time you vied for a captain position and trained your own soldiers.”

I’d trained as a soldier under my father, right up until about a year ago when Mateo was made captain, and I was his first soldier. Since then, Rafael and I come under him, as well as ten more soldiers. It was getting a lot for Mateo, and I knew with the responsibilities that Lorenzo had been giving me lately that it was only a matter of time before I moved up the ranks, but…I wasn’t sure whether I really wanted it.

At my silence, my father’s face turned red. It was as if he could read my thoughts—he’d always been able to do that.

“Youwillbecome captain, Romeo,” he lashed out, banging his fist on his mahogany desk. “You have to carry on the family legacy.” His rage was taking over the room, getting bigger and bigger, about to erupt like an active volcano. I knew better than anyone what happened when he erupted, and the damage it would cause.

I may have been able to walk out of this house, but my mom had to stay here and live within these walls with him. And healwaystook it out on her. So I nodded, murmuring, “Yes, sir,” hating how I reverted back to the twelve-year-old boy who stood in this room as he killed his first human. It didn’t matter that he had been a traitor, what had mattered was that still to this day, I felt like I couldn’t get the stain of his blood off of my hands.

Fuck’s sake. I never thought about these things. I’d buried them all deep down so that no one could see them. I’d worked hard and tried to become what my father had been. And I’d been successful, in fact, I’d created my own unique torturing techniques, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed it, not like my father had. He craved to feel the red liquid on his skin, he needed the screams of agony as he caused maximum damage. Me, not so much.

But maybe that was what made me more dangerous. Maybe the fact that I hated it so much created a monster that would be unstoppable.

I stared at my father, and for the first time, I felt…nothing. Not a single thing. I’d gone into preservation mode; I’d gone into torture mode.

Blinking, I committed his face to memory, determined to never allow him to ever have that effect on me again, then spun around and calmly strode out of the house, knowing that it would be a damn sight longer than a month before I’d see Mom again. But it was a sacrifice I was willing to make…for me.

CHAPTER 2

BAILEY

My arms wrapped around my legs, clutching at them like they were the only thing holding me down on this earth. I was hyperaware of everything around me, which was why I tried to make my body as small as possible, my knees held against my chest as I shuffled myself farthest away from the opening of the cage.

The painted-black bars were rusted from age, and it only made me wonder even more how long this entire setup had existed.

I was surrounded by cages, the room full of them with walkways in between rows. I couldn’t see enough to count the rows; I was sure I’d counted at least seven but it was hard to tell from inside the cage. Wincing at the agony thumping through my face, I stroked the skin on my cheek, feeling the raised skin where I’d had a scab there from a cut.He must have been wearing a ring when he punched me.

Part of me wished that I’d been awake when they’d taken me from the truck to this…hellhole. But part of me was glad that I didn’t have to see all of the other people who were trapped here, just like I was. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I refused to let them flow freely as I stared at the cage opposite me. A young man lay in there, his chest moving up and down slowly, his eyes closed.

How was he managing to sleep in here? I shook my head, the tiredness draining through my bones. Exhaustion was real, and I hadn’t even done anything. I had no idea how much time had passed by, no idea who these people were. No idea about anything.

Maybe I’d been too sheltered over the years to not see this potential danger, or maybe it was just my bad freaking luck that this would happen to me.

The cool bars bit into the skin on my back where my T-shirt had risen. I was lucky compared to the others in the room as my cage backed onto a wall, which meant I only had to worry about what was in front of me and beside me. I had a reprieve from behind, but that didn’t mean I could let my guard down.

I stared around§, but I always seemed to settle my attention back on the cage opposite me. Time seemed to pass by in chunks or go super slow. There was no middle ground, not while I was trapped here, still dressed in the same clothes I’d been taken in. They were covered in dirt, along with some droplets of blood, and I was sure the stench coming off of them had been masked because I’d become nose blind.

My eyes slowly closed, sleep threatening to take me. I’d been on guard for what felt like days, so when a shout and then groans came from the cage to my right, I jerked upright, whacking the top of my head on the roof of the cage. Dammit, that hurt.

Heart pounding away in a frantic rhythm, I turned my head to stare at her. Fresh bruises marred her skin as she yanked at her hair, her gaze far away, stuck in whatever she’d just been through. She was taken out of her cage at least once a day, sometimes more than that. They always brought her back though, unlike some of the others here.

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