Chapter 20
Isabella
I’m in the kitchen rinsing out the wineglasses the girls and I used this afternoon when I hear the front door clicking shut.
“I’m in the kitchen,” I call out.
Spending the afternoon with Emilia and Vinnie has left me in a buoyant mood. I can’t wait to tell Antonio about my day and to ask him how Gio is. The minute he steps into the kitchen, however, I know something is wrong. My first thought is that his brother has had some sort of setback.
“Is Gio okay?”
“He’s fine.”
The dark gleam in Antonio’s eyes is unsettling. He’s a predator waiting to pounce, but I don’t know why he has me in his sights.
“Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know, Bella, you tell me.”
I frown deeply as I try to work out what he’s talking about. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No?” Antonio’s expression tells me he doesn’t believe that. “Come here.”
My heart races as I set down the glass I was holding and walk around to the other side of the enormous island that dominates the kitchen. Antonio’s eyes follow me every step of the way, making my skin prickle with awareness. Instinct tells me to run, but deep down I know he won’t hurt me.
“Take your clothes off.” His command is harsher than usual.
“What?” I glance around the room. There’s nobody else in the house, but it still feels illicit to strip off in the kitchen. “Here?”
“Here.” Antonio steps closer and I can almost feel the anger vibrating off him. “Now.”
“I don’t…”
“Are you scared of me, Bella?”
I lift my chin. “Should I be?”
He doesn’t answer. I suspect that’s because he’s suppressing a desire to assure me he won’t hurt me. Right now, he wants me on edge, afraid he might hurt me. There’s something going on with him I don’t understand, but I can tell he needs to vent his frustrations. Perhaps I’m crazy, but I’m willing to let him use me to do that.
“Clothes off. I won’t tell you again.”
I do as he asks, unbuttoning my blouse and sliding it from my shoulders. Then I kick off my ballet flats and reach around to unzip my skirt. I shimmy my hips and it drops to the floor. I step out of the pool of fabric it creates.
“And the rest,” Antonio says.
I unhook my lacy bra and slip it off and then remove the matching panties. Antonio says nothing but makes a spinning motion with his finger. I guess he wants to inspect me.
As I turn slowly, I feel his gaze searing my skin. With the brightness from the lights overhead illuminating me, there’s nowhere to hide. Every inch of me is on display. I come full circle to face Antonio again. His expression is impassive but his Adam’s apple bobs, letting me know he’s not unaffected by what he sees.
I squeak in surprise as he grabs my arm, spins me around and forces me to bend over one of the high kitchen stools. It’s not the most comfortable position. My breasts are squished against the hard surface of the stool and my head hangs low.
“Do not move!” There is no disobeying that tone.
I stay stock still as he drops to a crouch in front of me. He takes zip ties from his jacket pocket and secures my left wrist to the leg of the stool and then does the same with my right. As I ponder the reasons he’d be carrying zip ties around with him, Antonio stands up and removes his jacket. Then he rolls up his sleeves. If I wasn’t sure before, I know now I’m about to get a spanking. The question is, for what?
I don’t get a chance to ask. Antonio draws his hand back and smacks me three times, hard, in the same spot. They weren’t love taps to warm me up. Those hurt.
“Tell me what happened with Joey Gallo.”
My heart lurches. Why are we back to this? “I already told you what happened.”
I glance up at Antonio, but from this angle, I can’t see him properly. I do, however, hear him removing his belt. The air behind me shifts almost imperceptibly as Antonio swings the long leather strip. It hits my ass with a loud crack that makes me squeal in a mix of shock and pain.
“Tell me the truth, Bella.”
“I did. He blackmailed me. I told you that.” The words tumble out of me in a breathless rush.
Antonio lashes my bottom three more times with the belt, choosing previously untouched spots to strike each time. My flesh throbs uncomfortably, but the burn spreads to my core where it ignites an entirely different kind of fire. I clench my fists and try to ignore how wet my pussy becomes.
“What did he blackmail you with?” Antonio demands.
“Photos.”
“Of?”
I frown in consternation as we go back over the details of the story I told him. When I don’t answer fast enough, he pinches my poor, punished ass, making me shriek as a jolt of pain runs through my lower half.
“Me.”
Antonio spanks me with the belt again. My mouth twists in pain.
“Let’s try the truth this time.”
“I told you the truth.” My tone is insistent. “Why won’t you believe me?”
“Because I spoke to my sister.”
Oh, shit. He brings the belt down again, this time choosing to lay a stripe across the top of my thighs. I dance up onto my toes and wiggle my hips, crying out as intense feelings of agony and ecstasy war within me. How can this feel so bad and yet so incredibly good at the same time?
“And do you know what she told me?”
Tears prick my eyes, and I shake my head. “No.”
It’s another lie. I know exactly what she’s done. Each time I’ve seen her at the hospital, she’s avoided me. She can’t look me in the eye because she’s ashamed of letting me take the fall for what happened with Joey Gallo. She needn’t have worried. I didn’t blame her for the mistakes I made when I tried to get the photos back. I’d have kept her secret if she wanted me to.
Antonio grabs a fistful of my hair and forces me to look up at him as he crouches next to me. “My sister told me she took photos for some boy she liked and that they somehow fell into Joey Gallo’s hands. She told me she came to you for help and you promised to take care of it. Why did I have to hear it from her?”
“I don’t know.”
“I do.” The look of anguish in my husband’s eyes is too much to bear. “It’s because you don’t trust me. You never have.”
I want to throw my arms around him and tell him that’s not true, but I can’t, because I didn’t trust him to handle things without doing something that would wreck his relationship with Livvy.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t trust you then, but I do now.”
If my hands were free, I’d reach out and touch him, offer him reassurance. But I can’t do that while I’m bound like this. It’s not what Antonio needs, anyway. There’s an anger raging in him looking for an outlet.
“Punish me,” I whisper, afraid to say the words out loud. “Make it hurt.”
Antonio stares into my eyes. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but he seems to find the answer he seeks because he grunts an affirmation, releases his grip on my hair and gets to his feet. He moves behind me and spanks my ass with his bare hand again. I squirm with need.
The rasp of a zipper being lowered is the only warning I get before he forces my legs wider and impales me with his cock. I whimper as he drives in deep, his hipbones pounding against my poor aching ass as he fucks me.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Take every inch of my cock like a greedy little slut. Beg me for my cum.”
If any other man spoke to me in that manner, I’d be repulsed, but this is Antonio. I love it when he talks dirty.
He fucks me ruthlessly, making no attempt to give me pleasure. My nipples harden as they rub against the stool. My pussy is drenched and my clit pulses insistently. It takes an effort not to beg Antonio to make me come.
As I writhe beneath him, Antonio takes a bruising grip of my hips. He uses me mercilessly to slake his desire. When he reaches the moment of climax, he pulls out of me. Cum spurts across my lower back. I sag against the stool.
Antonio runs a hand over my bottom, a tender gesture. His fingers dip between my legs and stroke gently, eliciting a soft moan from me. For a brief second, I think he might take pity on me and gift me a climax. He doesn’t. Huffing out a breath, he comes around to release me from my bonds, cutting the ties with a knife he grabs from the block on the countertop. He helps me to stand up straight and looks at me with a mix of lingering anger and regret.
I reach for him, desperate for a moment of connection, but he steps away. Running his fingers through his hair, he watches as I go to retrieve my clothes.
“I’m sending Olivia to Italy,” he announces.
“What?”
“Matteo will take her and stay until she’s settled with our cousins in Tuscany. She can return when she’s learned her lesson.”
I’m lost for words. Antonio’s expression tells me his mind is made up, and it’s pointless to try to change it. My heart aches for Olivia. She’s young and she made a foolish decision. But sending her away isn’t the answer. She’ll feel rejected. I know that all too well.
“And what about me?” I ask, dreading the answer.
“I’m sending you back to Westport. Dante’s waiting outside to drive you.”
My heart sinks. I don’t know if I can stand being banished again. “Why don’t you just shoot me now? Put us both out of our misery.”
“I would,” Antonio snarls, getting right in my face, “if I didn’t love you so fucking much.”
Leaving me frozen in shock, he turns and storms from the room. I’ve waited so long to hear him tell me he loves me and he spits it out like a curse?
Tears run down my cheeks as I shake myself from my stupor and get dressed. I pull on my long floral skirt and then slide my arms into the sleeves of my white silk blouse. With trembling fingers, I fasten the buttons, then I slip my feet back into my shoes.
Not bothering to fetch my purse or find a coat, I step outside to find Dante waiting for me in an Aston Martin. I know better than to expect him to be chivalrous, so I open the passenger door myself and settle myself on the passenger seat.
“Nice car,” I say as I fasten my safety belt. “Trying to compensate for your inadequacies?”
Dante’s lip curls into a snarl. “I don’t want to spend two hours in a car with you any more than you want to breathe the same air as me, so cut the snark.”
Huffing, I make myself comfortable as Dante drives us off the property. He turns on the radio to some station playing hardcore dance music, and I stare out of the window as we make our way through the streets of Manhattan. My mind replays what happened with Antonio and I think up a dozen different ways that could have gone better.
Suddenly, Dante turns off the music. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s making a mistake. He’s better with you by his side.”
Coming from Dante, who’s never been my biggest fan, that does mean something, but I’m not about to get into a heart-to-heart with him about my feelings, so I say nothing. I close my eyes and let the motion of the car rock me to sleep. A while later, a voice wakes me with a start.
“Call Tony.”
I’m about to tell Dante I don’t want to speak to my husband when I realize he’s talking to his cellphone and not me. When the call goes unanswered, Dante curses. I furrow my brow, wondering what’s going on as he issues another command. “Call Leo.”
The urgency in his voice worries me. “What’s going on?”
“Be quiet!” he snaps as Leo answers the call.
“What the fuck, Dante!” Leo sounds pissed, obviously thinking that order was for him.
“Not you,” Dante says. “I’m driving Isabella to Westport. We’ve got a black Range Rover on our tail.”
I look over my shoulder. We’re not in the city anymore, or even on the expressway. I think we’re on the outskirts of Westport.
“Fuck! Where are you?”
“We got off the expressway five minutes ago.”
“And Tony?”
“At his house. He’s not picking up.”
Leo lets out a string of curses. “I’ll handle it. Keep Isabella safe. We’re coming for you.”
I don’t have the chance to feel any sense of relief. As Dante ends the call, there’s a deafening bang as something hits the rear of the car. I scream as we spin out of control. Dante slumps over the steering wheel. There’s a nasty gash on the side of his head. Shit. I’m on my own. I look for a weapon, but it’s too late. My door is wrenched open and a masked man leans in to grab my arm. The last thing that goes through my head is that I didn’t get the chance to tell Antonio I love him. Then I’m dragged out of the car.
“Rico Mancini’s body was found dumped in an alley this morning,” my captor hisses, “and you, you little bitch, are going to tell us who killed him.”