11. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Elise
I would expect nothing less of Luca. He’s a man who was praised for the violence he inflicted, and now he is passing that on to me. He wants me to be like him, or rather, okay with being with him. He watches me expectantly with that wicked gaze, excitement written all over his face at the position he’s forced me into. Only the other day he was professing his twisted affection for me and now he wants me to put my life on the line for the sake of his twisted pleasure.
I reach out with trembling hands, taking the heavy weapon from him.
I’ve never held a gun before. It feels wrong, especially under these circumstances. It’s heavier than it looks when Luca holds it. It makes me wonder how he can so easily fire at his target without missing. I shift my attention to him, trying to remain calm. He reacts to me losing myself, I’ve realized. But the longer I hold the weapon, the more my brain runs in the opposite direction of following his orders.
All this time, I’ve wanted an out. I’ve never been a defiant woman, my loyalty to my father remaining even when he admitted to his lowly plans for me. But as I look into the eyes of the man who has taken control of my life, I feel a small sense of rebellion bubbling up within me. Luca has just given me my out. If there’s one bullet in the chamber, I just have to fire it enough times to hit him once. Hopefully fatally.
If I can do this, I will accomplish what no one else has been able to do up to this point. I will have killed Luca Pasquino, all because of his arrogance.
Luca’s smile drops. “I don’t have all day. You saw how the game goes. You get one try.”
I study the weapon in my hand with newfound fascination. This small thing has the power to change my life and liberate me from all the abuse and suffering I have endured. For all the pain I have taken at his hands. I grip the weapon with both hands, my heart beating loudly in my ears, and I let my adrenaline fuel me as I raise the weapon, aiming it at my smug husband, and pull the trigger.
Click click click click click click click.
Nothing.
My panicked breaths fill the room as I continue to pull the trigger, grunts of frustration accompanying my failed attempt, but it’s all the same—an empty click. No bullet. He didn’t load a bullet. I slowly lower the gun, my eyes remaining on the whites of my knuckles. I don’t want to look at Luca.
I can’t.
I drop the gun, and it lands with a heavy thud. My legs give out immediately after, and I collapse in front of him, my tears falling onto the wood flooring. I hear his footsteps slowly move around his desk until his glossy shoes appear in my line of vision. He kneels, placing his fingers under my chin to force me to look at him.
Calculated anger is reflected at me in that gray gaze. He doesn’t speak. He studies me, taking in my terror-filled state until he finally scoffs.
“Did you really think I’d give you a loaded gun?” he asks.
If I hadn’t thrown up earlier, I just might in this moment. The eerie calm of his voice sends a chill up my arms. But I can’t look away from his intense glare. I flinch as his grip on my chin tightens.
“I’m not an idiot, Elise. If you happened to land on a bullet and blow your face off, then where would that leave me?” he asks.
“Ah!” I cry out as he roughly grips my jaw, pulling me in close to him.
“But you weren’t going to do that, were you? You were going to put a bullet in me. Me, your husband.” His eyes narrow. “And what were you going to do once I was dead, huh? They would have shot you down as soon as you set foot out this door. You are a foreigner on my turf, Elise. I am the only reason you are alive.”
I pull my face from his grip.
“Just kill me then! How long are you going to hold my blood over my head? You already treat me like I’m less than you, kill me and be done with it!” I shriek. My terror fuels my bravery at this moment, and Luca knows it.
But I continue to push him.
“You’d be doing me a favor,” I add.
Luca’s eyes shift to my hair, his fingers threading through, gripping roughly as he pulls me close, inches from my lips. A knowing smile forms on his lips as he studies me, remembering my fear.
“I’m not going to kill you. You’re my wife, Elise. And I take my vows very seriously. But if you keep pushing me, I just might.”
I understand now why Luca chose such a large estate to call home. It’s large enough to have other facilities where he can conduct “business” without the worry of being disturbed by someone who shouldn’t be around. I don’t know the problems arising with the Pasquino family, but Luca has been interrogating men more so than usual on the grounds. Not only has he been able to isolate me in this large place, but he can cut off a man’s finger without having to worry about neighbors hearing his screams of agony.
Luca has been in a poor mood lately. I know it’s my fault for my pathetic murder attempt the other day in his office. He’s been on a short fuse, walking around with a constant scowl. He even loses himself in his “interrogations”, ending up killing the man on the receiving end of his wrath. I’m sure he wishes he could do that to me. But for some unknown reason, he can’t. He sees me as his wife, no matter how much hell he puts me through.
Not only has he been in a foul mood, but he’s barely spoken to me. He doesn’t sleep in the same room as me, and if he sees me around the house, he looks me up and down before leaving the room.
At least something good came out of my murder attempt.
I adjust the strings on my violin one last time before placing it in its case. With Luca’s shunning comes my own personal freedom. When I have rehearsals, I’ve been using Luca’s men as my chauffeur, which he doesn’t mind. The sounds of screams pull my attention, and I move to the window just in time to see another stranger being dragged into the annex. I shudder as I take in the terror on his face. Luca’s reputation precedes him. I recall him and Nicolai’s conversation about Luca’s medical IQ. Luca knows everything about the human body for the sole purpose of inflicting pain. It’s scary thinking I’m married to someone who is so invested in his own sadism.
I quickly wrap my instrument case around my back before making my way down the main steps to the front door. I have a rehearsal in an hour, which means I should leave now if I want to arrive on time.
“Elise.”
My name echoes off the foyer’s walls, sending a chill up my spine at the familiar voice. I turn away from the front door to face Luca, my greeting catching in my throat as I take him in. He has blood on his sleeves and shirt, and a few splatters on his cheeks. But he doesn’t seem to notice or, more importantly, care.
“Where are you going?” he asks when I don’t respond. His eyes follow my nervous movements, taking in every aspect of me so that he knows how to react.
“I have rehearsal,” I say.
I tense when he approaches me, his eyes shifting to the violin.
“I’ll take you,” he says.
Before I can protest, he grips my hand in his. I bite back the desire to squeal as blood oozes into my palm from his own, but he notices, a frown forming.
“I’ll get cleaned up.” Contrary to what I think, he keeps his hand in mine, pulling me with him to the bathroom. I quickly set my violin down when he releases me, pulling his clothes off to shower. My eyes immediately fall to the cryptic words tattooed across his back, and I look away immediately.
He’s taken several lives since we met.
“Don’t tell me the blood is making you uneasy,” he laughs, dropping his saturated shirt to the floor. I release a shaky breath, meeting his eyes.
“My father didn’t raise me around violence,” I say softly.
Luca rolls his eyes, crossing the room to grab hold of me once again. He pulls my dress off, then my panties, leaving me naked to his gaze.
“Well, your father certainly did you no favors raising you so sheltered.” He pulls me under the warm spray with him, the water washing away his sins of the afternoon. I lower my eyes just in time to see the remainder of the blood flow down the drain. Luca turns me around, his chest against my back as his lips descend on my throat. I tense when his fingers trace his name on my side, my body trembling under the warm spray.
“Why are you shaking?” he murmurs against my throat.
“I…” I trail off, not knowing how to tell him his presence alone terrifies me. He laughs, nuzzling my throat deeper.
“Every time I look at you, I get heartbroken all over again. You’re so innocent on the outside. So pure. But you’re not. You tried to kill me, your husband, who saved you when I was ordered to put you in the dirt. Not only did I go against orders for you, but I saved you from your own father, who did not plan on letting you live a month past our wedding.” He releases a breath, pushing away from me, stepping deeper under the water.
I slowly turn back to face him, his naked back to me. I’m silently grateful that I can’t see his face as he speaks to me.
“Why would you do that to me?” Luca balls his hand into a fist against the marble as he continues to speak. “I think about it over and over in my head. If you were anyone else, I would have killed you for pointing a gun at me…But I can’t do that to you.”
My eyes trail over Luca’s naked back. Remnants of old wounds litter his skin as well as markings covering up those wounds. He’s been through hell and probably made every single person pay for that except me. Because with me, he has a twisted perception of what our relationship is. If I was any chance at surviving this marriage, I have to play along with my husband. I can’t be defiant. I have physical reminders of what defiance brings.
I take a small step towards him, the sound drowned out by the running water. My fingers tingle as I hold them out, hovering over his back. I finally find the strength to gently place my fingers along his skin. He tenses slightly but doesn’t pull away.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur.
Luca remains with his back to me, but I know he hears me. I can only hope that he believes me and that maybe I can find some semblance of peace in this hell that has become my life.