4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
FIAMETTA
“ A re you sure I should be coming with you?” Simone asks, as we walk through Father’s mansion, in the direction of his office. She’s been at my side every other day since I woke up. She’s my last stable connection to the life I actually want to live, especially now that I’m a prisoner behind these walls.
“No, but it’s the least he can do considering the circumstances. I’m going nuts here.” I sigh, and tug Simone’s arm to stop her for a moment. “Boredom isn’t the worst of it, though. Remember that guy that was following me around?”
“Tomas? Who could forget him,” she shudders at the mention of his name. “Joe says you’d better run from that M-effer . He’s bad news and I’m inclined to agree.”
God, I miss Joe and the soup kitchen. I miss my boutique, Mrs. Walker, and all the other faces I’ve had to let go of for the last nine weeks.
“It’s not as easy as you’d think. The guy never goes home. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this meeting was about my father telling me they were lovers.” We snicker at each other and continue on to Father’s office.
“What about Crue?” she asks casually.
“Shh.” I stare at her with big, wide eyes as if she’s just exposed an enormous secret. Maybe because, in a way, she has. No one in this house knows about my relationship with Crue, or anything about his wanting to kill me or otherwise. They believe that we met here, when Father called that meeting with Matteo Baronne and that was the end of it. “You can’t say it so loudly.”
“Why not?” She swishes her head to the side and her ginger hair flies over her shoulder. She makes the action purely to emphasize the confusion on her face.
“They don’t know about him.”
Neither does she. Not really. However, as much as I hate lying to Simone, I can’t tell her that Crue tried to kill me. If she can’t understand why saying his name is a bad thing, she’ll never be able to understand my trying to keep him out of Father’s sights.
“Not that it matters, anyway. He’s been missing for weeks.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” her face hardens, while her voice softens. She doesn’t have to say the words outright for me to know what’s going on in her head.
“No, I don’t think he’s dead.” Father would’ve told me immediately had they figured out it was him. “He’s just missing.”
“How long ago did he go missing ?”
Absolutely not. You’re not going to try and sleuth your way into figuring out he’s the reason I’m here .
“Two weeks, maybe three.” Another lie I’m going to feel bad about later.
We enter Father’s office, before she can ask any other questions I don’t want to answer, and it’s almost a relief. But when I see Father standing behind his desk holding a ten-o’clock-in-the-morning whiskey in hand, and Tomas sitting in the visitor’s chair opposite him, I know this can’t be good.
What’s worse, a little black box, lined with thin strips of gold, is sitting in the middle of his otherwise empty desk. Simone gulps before looking into Father’s eyes, and then at Tomas, who grins wickedly back at her. Finally, she looks at me.
“I’m gonna go,” she says, hurriedly.
“Yes, you are.” These are Father’s first words to her, and they come out dripping with malice. “And close the door on your way out.”
“I’ll chat to you later.” Simone’s already at the door, pulling it shut.
“You wanted to see me?” I haven’t taken my eyes off the black box since I walked in. Even Father’s rudeness toward Simone doesn’t manage to pull my eyes away from it. By all accounts, it can only be one thing. And I hate the implication, of Tomas’s sitting at the desk.
“Fiametta, we live in unsettling times.” The fact that Father’s using my full name does not bode well as concerns where this conversation’s heading.
“There’s danger around every corner. Bad men are vying for power over a city that’s rotten to the core. Even you, my sweet daughter, have found yourself at the mercy of fate. She smiled on you the night you were abducted; but, as your father, it’s my duty to ensure I don’t rely on the supernatural to keep you safe.”
I don’t say a word. I can’t. The tiny square on his desk has taken control of my ability to think, let alone try to converse.
“That’s why I’ve offered your hand in marriage to Tomas, in the unlikely event that I... perish before my time,” he finishes with calm, careless ease. He finally reaches for the black box and opens it with a single hand. There, resting on a dark blue pillow, sit two rings. One has a fat diamond in the center, the other is a completely ordinary circlet of gold.
How can something so small be such an enormous token of treachery?
“You can’t be serious.” The words spew out of me before I have a chance to think about what I’m saying.
“I am. Very serious.”
I’ve never fought against Father’s wishes. I never wanted to, because I’d be beating my head against a wall, hoping it would bring about world peace. But I can’t take this one lying down. After all the bullshit that Tomas tried to pull, while he was living in my apartment, and all the disrespect he showed his superior, he isn’t the right man for this job.
Hell, he’s one of the very few people on this planet I don’t think should be drawing breath.
“It’s my duty to protect my family—”
“And you do a great job of it, but you’ve made it clear that I’m not part of the family .” Maybe if I cut deep enough, he’ll chase me away. Go back to how things were and pretend I’m not his daughter anymore. I hated it while I was happening, but now I can’t stop dreaming about the life I used to have.
Who needs family when they’re all a bunch of monsters?
“It hurts me that you think like this, Fiametta.” Father removes his hand from the box before tucking both behind his back. “Everything I do, everything I’ve done, is to ensure you survive.”
“After putting me in danger.” I swallow hard, but I feel suffocated by the action because my throat is so damned dry.
Father scoffs and shakes his head. “Yes, it’s true. But you were born into this world, my daughter. It’s a cross I wish you didn’t have to carry, yet here we are.”
“But you don’t have to do this.” I make a grand gesture of pointing both hands at the ring. “Especially not to him. He’s a fucking monster.”
“Fiametta.” Father’s voice booms through the office. “You will show Tomas respect. This arrangement isn’t some snap judgment. It was arranged months in advance of Tomas’s moving in to protect you.”
Oh God, it all makes sense now. Tomas is walking away scot-free, even after his acts of cruelty. He showed a lack of respect for his don, because they were soon to be family.
I think I’m gonna puke.
“I won’t do it.” And I’ll keep resisting until the end of time.
“I’m not giving you a choice. You’re a woman, Fiametta. You’re weak. You don’t understand the evil we must unleash on this world to survive. I need to know you’ll be safe when I’m gone. It may still be years away, but I’m not going to risk anything,” Father isn’t shouting as I would expect, after his outburst. But he is speaking through gritted teeth, the same way he used to speak to me when I was a child being scolded for messing up in school or not finishing my chores.
“He tried to rape me.” It’s blunt and to the point. He tried more than once and failed both times.
“A miscommunication.” Father sighs and shuts his eyes.
“You’re fucking defending him?” I spit.
“Watch your tone, young lady.” His eyes open once more to reveal narrow slits. “I understand this news is shocking, but I will not have you disrespecting me.”
Enough. I can’t take it anymore. Instead of fighting and trying to bring reason to the insanity, I turn around and start running. It’s too much for me to handle. Marry that piece of shit? I’d rather have had Crue finish the job all those weeks ago.
Speak of the devil and he will appear.
As I burst through the door and try to run away from one nightmare, I smash headfirst into someone else. Crue is in the hallway, and he catches me as our bodies collide. He does his best to save me from dropping onto my ass. Given the gut-wrenching terror his emerald eyes bring me, I’d rather have fallen. If I were lucky, I’d have smacked my skull against the wall, fallen into a coma, and escaped this nightmare I call a life.
Yeah, that would be much better than this whole thing, now.
“Fiametta?” He stares into my eyes. His deep green orbs swirl with what I would’ve called concern, if I hadn’t known any better. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I tear myself out of his grip and start running again. No good can come from his being here, and I’ve had enough bad for one night.
But I have missed his ever-watching emerald eyes. That is, at least when they weren’t looking at me with murderous intent.