5. Day 1 – Stefano
Iface my punishment before breakfast.
I’m ready and waiting as the two men walk down the hall, their eyes on me.
They pull me away from the door I stood guard at through the night, keeping my promise to Caterina that I would warn her if my uncle decided to go against my expectations and pay her a visit.
But as dawn cracks through the slitted window across from me, barely letting a flicker of light into the dim hall, it’s only his men who come for me. Shaking off their grip, I stride away from them.
I know the way well enough by now.
Salvatore is bleary-eyed and furious when they push me into his office. He ignores me for several minutes, letting me wait before he looks up. “Explain.”
Explain why I sent those coordinates to Giovanni Fusco.
My throat tightens.
Because she asked me to.
Because I owed her something.
Because it was the right thing to do.
I shrug. “Morelli owes me money.”
He glowers, assessing my words, but I stare back at him blankly as he stands, reaching for the drawer. “Fucking useless.”
The words roll off my back like drops of water. I don’t give a flying fuck about his insults, and he knows it. Nor his little punishments.
There is only one thing I care about.
“I hope it was worth it, nipote.”
Salvatore’s words echo through the open door, taunting me as I walk out without limping, my shirt clinging to my back as the blood soaks through.
I cut a rapid path through the house to her door, but word has already gotten out. The guards drop their hands to their guns, the warning in their eyes as they block my way.
Not today.
The shower burns the cuts on my back as I wash off the grime from my night, changing into another black shirt and trousers before heading back to the breakfast room.
My presence is not optional.
Salvatore barely glances at me over his morning paper. A coffee sits in front of him, along with his usual breakfast.
A man of habit. My back twinges at the thought.
The swelling on Cecile’s face is far worse today. She sweeps in with her usual greeting, but the bluster that normally accompanies it is lacking, somewhat ruined by the two black eyes adorning her face.
Caterina follows her, escorted by the men who came for me this morning. Her eyes take in the table laid out for breakfast, Salvatore and I sat at opposite ends.
He studies her, before nodding to the seat beside him. The men escort her to it, waiting until she sits before they secure her arms to the chair using the straps already waiting. Cecile settles in on his other side with a simper that he ignores in favor of watching Caterina.
His eyes linger over the pastel pink silk dress Cecile has managed to wrestle her into, the minimal make-up on her face. The raised, swollen skin from her branding.
My fingers clench as I take it in.
Cat settles back before she speaks, her fingers flexing beneath the straps. “Worried I might stab you with a butter knife, Asante? Probably wise.”
He takes a sip of his coffee, ignoring her words and reaching for the bowl in front of him. “Today is the first day of your training.”
She stiffens as he takes a spoon and dips it into the bowl of yogurt and fruit, holding it out to her.
“You eat from my hand, or you don’t eat at all. Choose.”
Her eyes slide my way, twin spots of color rising high on her cheeks as her jaw clenches.
She doesn’t like yogurt.
I frown into my plate at the random thought. How the fuck do I know that?
She didn’t eat last night, as far as I know. Possibly hasn’t eaten since before the meeting that feels like months ago but somehow only happened last night.
Caterina is obviously weighing up the same thoughts as she stares at the spoon. Slowly, she leans forward, her teeth clinking against the metal.
She keeps her eyes straight ahead as Salvatore feeds her the entire bowl. He follows up with water in a tall glass, pushing the straw between her lips. His eyes don’t leave her face.
Cecile watches them with barely-concealed fury.
The little appetite I had when I sat down has vanished, but I force myself to clear my own plate.
Salvatore gives her an approving look as he sets the glass down. “Good.”
Cat’s lip curls when he runs a hand over her hair. “Take your fucking hands off me.”
Instead, he moves his fingers to her face.
Her cheek. Neck. Throat.
And he silently curls his fingers around her skin, squeezing.
Her head bangs against the back of the chair as she pulls away, but he grips her tightly as she chokes.
Making his point.
She gasps for air when he finally lets her go, her face flushed a deep red.
Salvatore settles back as she regains her composure, his eyes cold. “You’ll learn.”
Then he looks to Cecile, his gaze traveling to take me in. “Cecile will oversee your training downstairs. Stefano will be responsible for making sure you behave. We have a meeting of the new capos in six weeks, and I want to see progress by then.”
So he can show her off. His prize.
Broken and obedient.
Cat inhales sharply at the news. Cecile almost bounces in her seat with excitement.
That solid rock sitting in my stomach expands until it’s hard to breathe.
The rest of my punishment.
I force out the words. “And the campus?”
He waves his hand dismissively. “That pathetic excuse for an alliance is finished as of last night. You were nearly done anyway. You’ll stay here.”
My throat constricts, the walls threatening to close in on me. “In that case, I’ll need to collect my things. I’ll go this evening.”
He only nods, already dismissing us as I push my chair back. Sweat beads on Cat’s forehead as I round the table, leaning down to undo her straps and lifting her from her chair.
Neither of us speak as we follow Cecile to the dungeon. Cat must be freezing with her bare feet on the concrete, but she’s silent, the only noise her slightly rasping breaths as she descends the steps in front of me. Her fingers massage her bruised neck.
She stops on the final step.
Staring straight ahead.
I pause, but she doesn’t move. “Caterina.”
Her name is unexpectedly rough on my lips.
“Cat.”
Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.
For either of us.