6. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Elise
Every morning, I brush my hair out. It’s a routine I’ve put in place to keep some form of control in my life. I’ve been doing it since I was thirteen with thirty-four strokes on each side. In my mind, it’s helped keep my hair long and lustrous all these years. It’s the one thing I could control about myself and my life. My eyes fall to my cheek in my reflection. A bruise has begun to form from Luca’s attack yesterday. I touch it lightly, flinching from the pain. Luca didn’t come to bed last night, nor have I seen him this morning, something I am grateful for. I don’t know how to face my husband after what I did yesterday. I never would have attempted to undermine my father’s authority in such a way, and I did so within a week of my marriage. Luca’s trust in me was already on thin ice because of my family, but I fear I may have ruined any future chances with my actions yesterday.
I tense when the door to the bedroom opens. Luca enters with a blank expression, his eyes glossing over me as he walks by. He doesn’t speak or acknowledge my presence. He only glances, his eyes following the movement of the brush as he walks by. I quickly set the brush down, standing to leave when he chooses to speak.
“Grab your violin. Wait in my office.”
Luca’s office is much bigger than my father’s. I try not to touch anything as I look around the room I was in only for a brief moment yesterday. There’s barely anything personal in here. There are no pictures and no glimpse into the man that I married. The blood from the man who was here yesterday has been completely removed, leaving the office as neat as it possibly can be. My stomach knots in discomfort at the possibility of Luca forcing me to do something like that again.
I don’t know if he did that to punish me for overstepping, or because he was just bored. It’s like I said, I know nothing about him. The door to Luca’s office opens, and he enters with his usual demeanor. He’s wearing a black suit today, the color making his eyes stand out against his dark hair. His eyes shift to mine briefly, his steps shifting so that he approaches me. I fight the natural instinct to shrink away as he stands over me. His eyes fall on the bruise on my cheek, and he reaches for it, gently stroking it with his thumb.
He releases a breath when I flinch from the contact, his eyes meeting mine.
“Obedience. That’s all I asked you for,” he says.
His hand falls away from my face, and he gestures for me to sit in the chair across from his desk. I quickly take my seat just as he sits in his, leaning back in the seat with his hands clasped in his lap. He watches me intensely, thinking about how he wants to go about the morning. Luca gestures to the violin that sits next to me on its stand.
“Play me a song,” he says.
My fingers tremble as I reach for the instrument, pulling it to my chin before glancing at him.
“What song?” I ask, a little shaken.
“Any song.” His mood is making me nervous. But he doesn’t seem inclined to speak more on the matter as he lowers his head, shuffling through the papers on his desk. It’s a silent command that he is waiting for me to play. I take in a soft breath and begin. I play the same song I played the day we met in my father’s home. Luca continues to work for the first few minutes, but his attention is slowly pulled back to me. And by the song’s end, he is leaning back in his seat, watching me curiously.
“Play another,” he says.
I quickly play another melody, this one from a recent performance. Luca nods his head slightly as I finish, leaning forward in his chair. His expression is unreadable as he watches me.
“Another.”
I play another one, this one much shorter than the other two, so I get through it quickly, but my fingers tremble as Luca watches me, his thoughts a complete mystery.
Finally, he laughs. “You couldn’t play any of those when I asked?”
“I...” I trail off, not knowing how to respond to him. He’s still upset about it. What I did was something that isn’t done in our world. I purposely defied him in front of his subordinates.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Luca scoffs, leaning back in his seat.
“You ask me to trust you, and I give you an opportunity, and you blow it. Why should I believe your flimsy apology?” he asks.
Silence fills the air. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to make him understand that what I did had no malice behind it. He is not a man who easily trusts, and judging from the scars that riddle his body, he has every right to be that way.
“I would never do anything to jeopardize our marriage—”
“Is that what your father told you to say to me? Did he tell you not to jeopardize this marriage so he can weasel his way into our graces?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Of course not,” I say quickly.
Luca laughs again, the sound forming chills on my arms as he watches me.
“Of course not,” he repeats my words, contemplating their meaning. I flinch as he stands, moving around his desk to stand in front of me, leaning against the wood as he looks down at me.
“You were never interested in your family business when you were a Trovoli. Now you’ve married me, and you suddenly have an interest? Yet you tried to find a way to spare my enemy, simultaneously defying me in front of my men,” he says.
I can’t respond to him; the only thing I’m seemingly capable of is lowering my head, hoping he’ll move on. But he doesn’t. He grips my cheeks, forcing my gaze to meet his.
“Do you know the rumors that circulate your family name? Do you know the position you are in having married into mine?” he growls. His eyes search my own, and he finally releases me.
“You should be doing whatever you can to deter the rumors, not add to them, Elise,” he says in irritation.
I quickly nod, placing my violin back on its stand. I purposely take a good minute to do so, hoping it will give me time to gather myself. But with Luca’s gaze on me, I’m only prolonging whatever he’s planning.
“Do you have anything to tell me?” he asks, breaking the silence.
I look up, immediately noticing the distrust in his eyes.
“No,” I whisper.
Luca narrows his gaze.
“You’re a Pasquino now, Elise. Your loyalty to your family is dead. Do you have anything to tell me?” he growls.
I shake my head, fear brewing in my chest.
“No, I swear,” I say a little louder this time.
Luca knows something, something that I don’t know. He knows something involving my family, and he is not happy about it. But he thinks he is giving me a chance to prove myself. He just doesn’t understand how much my father hated me. It was a stroke of fate that I grew into a woman men wanted to marry, that way my father could pawn me off on the most powerful—Luca being that man in this instance. I’ve been married to Luca for a little over a week and my father has already done something to piss my husband off.
Luca crosses his arms over his chest. I don’t know how anyone could go against this man willingly. Physically, he is an intimidating presence with a suffocating aura that makes me quiver. As he stands before me right now, I wish I knew what he has on my father. I would tell him in a heartbeat to avoid the scrutiny of his gaze.
Luca releases a bitter laugh, making my nerves fray even further.
“You are good. He must have trained you well. He must have taught you every trick in the book on seduction so you could get under my skin and get me to let my guard down. You are as despicable as him, using that pretty face and what’s between your legs to—”
Smack!
Silence fills the air as we both register what I did. I hit him. I hit my husband. Tears sting my eyes, and my hand throbs from the force as I look at Luca. My entire life, I have been a pawn in my father’s life. For him to accuse me of something so dirty makes me feel an anger I didn’t know possible. But slowly, as my adrenaline dies down, I realize what I just did.
I hit him. I hit my husband. I hit Luca.
“I—”
I trail off, watching him attempt to compose himself, but fail. His eyes are filled with anger as he looks at me, his milky skin turning red from the force of my strike. My heart beats in my chest louder than the blood roaring in my ears as I try to remain upright. Luca snatches me instantly around my arm, dragging me around his desk. I struggle and scream, begging him to release me, but it all falls on deaf ears as he continues to drag me. In my panic, I notice a pair of scissors on his desk, snatching them up in an effort to protect myself.
I don’t know what it is my father has been dealing in, but whatever it is pissed Luca off. And I saw what he did yesterday to the man who crossed him. I won’t be going down without a fight. Luca shoves me roughly into the wall, and I cry out, holding the scissors firmly in front of me as I slide to the floor.
Luca’s eyes narrow as he watches me. He then laughs, shaking his head.
“What? Are you going to kill me with those? Was this the plan if he was found out?” he growls. I shake my head, tears falling fast and hard.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say. My voice betrays me, barely able to be heard properly. But Luca hears me. His amusement disappears, a frown forming on his lips.
He bends to my height and holds his hand out to me. “Give me those.”
I don’t comply. But he doesn’t get angry, he looks irritated.
“If you want me to trust you, hand those over to me now,” he says.
I contemplate my options, slowly lowering the scissors. I barely have them lowered when Luca’s hand reaches out. He simultaneously takes the scissors from me, wrenching me around with his knee in my back and his hand in my hair, gripping the locks roughly.
“Did your father teach you nothing? What you just did, you should be killed for.” His grip tightens. “No one threatens my life and lives. No one.”
My mind immediately flashes to the words I saw tattooed on his back, our first night together.
Mors Tua, Vita Mea 1
He presses the tip of the scissors against my cheek, holding it firm as he speaks.
“Don’t worry. I won’t kill you. Not yet,” he says.
I flinch as his grip tightens, my sobs filling the air. I’ve never been so terrified in my life.
“Unlike you, I take my vows very seriously. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you since our wedding. And one thing I have learned about you is that you have a pattern. Every morning, and every night before you go to bed, you brush your hair.” As he speaks, he moves the scissors further away from my cheek until they are deep into my hair. I shake my head slightly, begging him not to do what I think he is about to do. But it only spurs him on, his smile widening as he watches me break down at his mercy.
“Thirty-four strokes, isn’t it?” he asks.
“I swear, I don’t know anything, please—”
“Don’t,” he growls as his knee presses deeper into my back. He releases a disappointed sigh, his hand pulling at my strands.
“I love your hair, Elise. It’s so soft and long. But do you know who else loves it? You do,” he says.
Luca’s grip loosens, but it isn’t because he releases me. The sound of scissors slicing through my locks accompanies my screams, my hair falling in shreds around me. Luca isn’t finished, however. He presses his knee into my back, holding me firm against the floor as he grips more of my hair.
“The next time you decide to threaten the life of the future head of this family, I suggest you think about the consequences.”
1. Your Death, My Life