Chapter 12
Madelene
He doesn’t seem impressed as he stares down at me.
I’ve felt helpless many times in my life. It’s literally a daily occurrence living with the Severinos.
Somehow, with him looking down at me, that feeling is tenfold.
I’m vulnerable, incapable of defending myself with my hands tied behind my back. My chin trembles as I lock eyes with him, refusing to let any more tears fall.
I don’t want to appear weak, although I’m not fooling anyone here, but I also don’t want to appear overly confident.
His eyes narrow as I manage to tilt my chin up just a little higher. His eyes trace the movement of my throat as I swallow, the corner of his mouth twitching.
He knows I’m terrified. He’s reading me like an open book, the same way Marcello and Alessio have always had the ability to do. I’m not brave. The trepidation running through my body doesn’t even allow me to fake it very well.
I know I’m dead. I know how this ends. If I’m set free, the Severinos will kill me, but I think that was always their plan, eventually.
This guy doesn’t seem much better, but there is a fraction of hope that he won’t linger over my ending.
Where Alessio will prolong my suffering, this guy seems like the get-it-done-and-over-with type.
Although he wanted information from Marcello before pulling the trigger, he didn’t hesitate with Julio. The man protecting me wasn’t his concern. He was there for me, and he made that happen as quickly as possible.
I do my best not to think of Julio as I wait to see what this guy has planned for me.
Julio was the only guard who didn’t get in on the taunting and threats.
He frowned at the other guards when they started to feed off what the Severinos were so quick to do.
I’m not exactly sad. The man has done horrible things.
I just wasn’t someone he felt the need to belittle or hurt.
The man standing at the end of the bed seems a lot like Julio. Someone who has hurt and killed but didn’t take pleasure in it. As far as choosing how to leave this world, he seems like the best bet.
“Are you her brother?” I ask.
He straightens, his upper lip curling in disgust.
“Were you her boyfriend?” He doesn’t seem much older than me, but maybe the lines present around Alessio’s eyes are more about how he’s lived his life rather than his age.
“Who the fuck are you talking about?”
I didn’t take him for the type to play stupid.
“Ellie.”
His jaw flexes, his irritation more than a little evident in the darkness in his eyes and the twitch in his fingers, making me think he’d shoot me now if he were holding his gun.
“I was eight when Ellie was murdered,” he explains, surprising me that he’d give me any details, seeing as he’s the one demanding information. “What do you know about her murder?”
I confessed I was only a child when this happened, that I’d only heard about it from Alessio, but maybe he was too high on adrenaline to hear me the night he killed Marcello
“I was only a kid.”
“You said that piece of shit told you about it. Tell me what he told you and maybe explain why he feels so comfortable sharing shit with you that could land him on death row.”
“Illinois doesn’t have the death penalty,” I remind him, making me think we are in Texas like I wondered earlier. Texas is one of the states that seems to have an express process for the punishment.
He leans in closer, his hand reaching out and gripping my jaw faster than I can pull my head back.
“Answer the fucking questions.”
I open my mouth to speak but his hold on my face makes it too painful to do so.
He releases me, taking a step back when I whimper. I know better than to think he’s no less capable of hurting me than Alessio would be just because of the reprieve.
“Speak,” he growls.
In my mind, I tell him to fuck off, to not speak to me like I’m a fucking dog, but I’d never say those words out loud. I’ve always been braver in my head than I’ve ever managed to be in real life.
He’s agitated. There’s no denying it, and I don’t know how far away he is from really losing control.
“What will you do with the information?”
“I’m going to burn their entire fucking world to the ground,” he growls, surprising me a second time. Angry men make statements like his often. They consider themselves invincible. I can’t count how many times I heard Marcello speak of world domination, and it only took a single bullet to stop him.
If I thought this man or anyone could take down the Severino family, I’d spill every secret I’ve ever heard. Even if it meant my eventual death, if telling him meant no one past me was hurt by them, I’d tell him everything.
However, I know better.
I know that even with Alessio’s death there will be someone else willing to step up and take over the family. I can’t imagine anyone being as evil as my betrothed, but I imagine there’s always a chance that a crueler person exists.
My father, a man I haven’t felt much connection to my entire life, flashes in my head.
He’s selfish, much like every other man I’ve met in my life, but he’s still family, blood, and with that comes a certain level of loyalty.
Allegiance to blood is paramount, and it was drilled into my head as a child from both parents.
I can’t figure out how trading me off to the Severinos makes him loyal to me, but I guess none of that matters now.
“Tell me about Ellie.”
I take a deep breath, figuring he already knows about her and the Severino connection to her death, so it’s not exactly like I’m spilling any secrets.
“She was in Alessio’s class at school,” I begin, my mouth snapping closed when he leans in close again.
“I already know that shit.”
Frustration grows inside of me, but I push it down as much as I can.
“I don’t know what you know and what you don’t.”
His jaw ticks, but he backs up a foot or so. He’s still close enough that he could strike me if he lashes out, but I guess the fraction of distance is better than him being right in my face.
“She was his first kill, his loyalty test. He’s a Severino, heir to the family, but he still had to prove his loyalty, had to do something horrendous to prove that he was willing to obey orders.”
“Lucian ordered her death?”
I shake my head, hating the memories of Alessio bragging often about Ellie.
“He got to pick.”
“Why her?”
I lift my eyes to his, wishing the answer held more meaning. “He said ‘just because.’”
“Because what?” he growls.
“Because he wanted to.”
“Because,” he says, as if turning the word over in his head will make it make sense at some point.
“He’s a bad man,” I explain, even though I know he’s well aware of it. “She could’ve wronged him on some extreme level or accidentally stepped on his shoe in the hallway while going to class. It would make no difference to Alessio.”
He nods as if he suspected this already. “What did he do to her?”
“He hurt her, r-raped her.” I swallow when emotions threaten to bubble up out of my throat. “Tortured her. Killed her.”
I turn my head to try and use my shoulder to wipe away a tear slowly making its way down my cheek, but the pain from having my hands tied behind my back for so long keeps me from following through with it.
“Your fake tears don’t mean shit to me,” he snaps, and all I can do is nod in understanding, another tear cresting and falling.
I’ve tried not to cry. I do well when it’s Alessio and Marcello hurting me.
They love my tears, pushing me to cry as often as they can.
I fight the tears out of pride and stubbornness, knowing that I’ll be hurt more if I don’t give them what they want.
They eventually get it, always. They have no boundaries.
They’re soulless and feed on the pain of others.
This man seems different. He’s hurting with my recollection of what Alessio has said to me about Ellie. He cared for her.
I don’t think Alessio nor Marcello ever cared about anyone but themselves. There might have been a small part of Alessio that cared for his younger brother but then again, that could’ve only gone as deep as the mandatory loyalty for family went.
He was angry with his death. He wanted answers, but I never saw a tear shed. I doubt the man got emotional and cried at his loss when he was in private, no more than he did in front of his men while commanding them to find the blond-haired blue-eyed boy I lied about killing him.
This man could easily see me as an extension of the Severino family.
He seems smart, which means he has to know just how dangerous and untouchable they are.
He may be keeping some distance now, but he could snap at any moment.
He killed Marcello just for being Alessio’s brother, in retribution for Ellie Baker.
I’m his fiancée. In his mind, he probably thinks the older Severino loves me, that we’re happy or some other messed-up shit.
I could die hating the man at the hands of another man who has the entire story wrong.
“I need the bathroom,” I say instead of explaining who I am and what I mean to the Severino family.
He looks me up and down one more time, but instead of untying my hands and directing me to the bathroom, he turns around and leaves the room.
I could possibly escape, but I stay on the bed, merely looking toward the single window in the room. Where would I go even if I managed to get away?
My life is a sad state when I consider staying here tied up is better than risking falling back into the hands of the Severino family any time soon.