Still, seeing them so young and full of promise took my breath away. I fell to weeping as my sorrow for them strangled me as acutely as it had right after it’d happened. I clasped the frame to my chest as I slumped on my mattress crying for what I’d lost, for what my siblings had lost, and what my parents had lost, too. They would never meet any of their grandchildren, never know what other joys might’ve lit up their lives had they survived. Had the Cavettis not mown them down.
I bawled so loudly that I didn’t hear anyone come in until I felt a hand on my shoulder, twisting me around.
Romeo.
He wore an inscrutable expression as he scrutinized me. “How did you like your last gift, farfalla?”
A spire of fury rocketed through my system, bringing me swiftly to my feet.
“How dare you?” I demanded. “You did this intentionally to hurt me, to make me suffer. You are mean and vile and cruel, Romeo Cavetti. And someday, thanks to me, you’ll feel just as awful as I do.” As a last act of defiance, I threw the frame at his head with every ounce of my strength.
He caught it mere inches from his face, his eyes going cold and stormy. Abruptly I comprehended that baiting this man was tantamount to courting death, and I took a step backward. Unfortunately, there was nowhere for me to go, and he seized me by my wrists, throwing me down on the bed. Tearing off his necktie, he bound my left wrist to one of the posts on the four-poster frame, then used a zip tie to secure the right one.
Unbuttoning my blouse, he began to take it off but I bucked, making his job far more difficult. From his pocket he removed something I couldn’t see, then after placing the object no more than an inch from my eyes, flicked it open. Only then did he back up so the item would come into focus. It was a switchblade.
“You will stop fighting me, Lucia, or I will use this knife to gut you.”
I froze, having no doubt that he would run me through without compunction. Tears remained on my face, but I was no longer weeping. My anger had abandoned me, and all I knew was terror. I quit resisting him, and he made quick work of the rest of my clothing, leaving me utterly bare. He took each of my ankles and tied them to the remaining two posts, leaving me forcibly spread eagle on the bed. He took the switchblade and drew the edge of it along my cheekbone, making me lie absolutely motionless.
“There’s a good girl,” Romeo whispered, his features more serene now that he had me where he wanted me. He poked his chin out at the knife. It wasn’t the same one he’d used for the blood pact. It was newer. Fancier. “Isn’t this lovely? My father gave it to me. It has a pearl inlaid handle and the blade is made of stainless steel. It won’t rust. Even if I leave it out in the rain. Even if it’s covered in blood.”
I trembled in fear. I couldn’t help it.
“Do you see now why you must always obey me? It is a wife’s duty, and you are still to be mine.”
I quit breathing.
“The thing about knife play is the inherent hazardousness of it.” He tilted his head almost thoughtfully and brought the blade close to my eyelashes. “With next to no effort, I could blind you.” He lowered it to my nose. “Maim you.” It descended to my neck near my jugular. “Slice your throat.”
“Or,” he continued, dragging the handle along the fullness of my breast. “I can give you pleasure.” The handle descended toward my core, the blunt end tracing the delicate tissues of my center and making me shudder, though whether from fright or sexual excitement, I couldn’t have said.
“Do you understand now how important it is for you to cooperate with me? To please me?”
I nodded.
“Say it. And say my name.”
“Yes, I understand, Romeo,” I wheezed out.
“Do not forget this lesson. Because if I have to teach it to you again, I will be far less gentle. And you will receive only pain, no pleasure.” He shifted and glanced down my naked form, his attention dropping from my face. “I wonder how much pleasure you took from this time around,” he mused as if he were saying all this over brunch. He put away his switchblade and dipped his fingers between my legs, raising them again to show me the moisture there. Raising one dark eyebrow, he smirked down at me, licking my wetness from his fingers. “Mmmmm. So tasty. Nice to know you enjoyed this as much as I did.” He thrust his prominent erection into my stomach. “Do you feel that? Do you feel what you do to me?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” he asked almost lazily, but I knew if I failed to follow his instructions, his reaction wouldn’t be lazy at all.
“Yes, Romeo.”
His smirk morphed into a cold smile. “You will receive more messages from me, and I want you to heed them. Do this for me, and I’ll give you the kind of gift that doesn’t come in a box.”
With that, he retrieved his knife again and snipped the zip ties. Then, after undoing the knot of his tie, I was free. I didn’t move a muscle, though.
“You’re learning already,” he said, his face lighting as if I’d been a student who’d answered a difficult equation correctly. “You may move once I leave.”
And only after the door had shut firmly behind him did my lungs relax enough to let me breathe.
6
Romeo
As I returned from my delightful foray in Lucia’s room, I heard a noise and edged back so I wouldn’t be detected. I squinted through the dim hallway and made out the profile of my brother Marcello coming out of one of the twin’s rooms—Chiara was in that one if I remembered correctly. I paused long enough for him to make his way back towards the stairs to return to his room, then caught sight of another familiar shadow. This time, it was my brother Savio. Like me, he appeared to be waiting so as to not be caught. Yet unlike myself and Marcello, he was entering a room—Alessandra’s—rather than leaving it.
I almost laughed out loud. Oh, what a tangled web we Cavetti brothers wove. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one obsessed with a Bonifacio princess.
Swinging by the dungeons to check up on the Bonifacio men had been a habit of mine ever since we’d gotten some astonishing helpful details out of Antonio. I kept hoping he’d show some spine and come back to himself enough to enlighten us about more secret caches, but every time I jaunted past his cell it was the same. He’d either be babbling to himself like a toddler or drooling out the side of his mouth.
It was aggravating to know that a more deft touch could’ve prevented this.
Then, as usual, I’d meandered on down to Giorgio’s home sweet home. He stared a hole through me as I approached, his eyes were gray like the twins rather than Lucia’s brilliant sky blue, dull like concrete. I didn’t know the guy, but I figured he was just as dense. Perhaps because of what had been arranged for later today, I couldn’t go by without rattling his chain. Literally.
“Enjoying our five-star accommodations? Nothing but the best for the Bonifacio heirs.”
His mouth, bloodied by a recent beating, warped into a snarl.
“Got something to say, Bonifacio? I’m listening.” I put my hand around my ear facetiously, bending slightly as if trying to hear like an old granny.
His gaze grew a substantial number of degrees colder, but he said nothing. Just what I thought. The Bonifacio men were both imbecilic weaklings. Dickless. Still, I couldn’t resist one last gibe.