CHAPTER 19
Luna
No.
Just no. That’s the first thought that rings out in my brain like a bell when I wake up. No to this lumpy old couch, no to this dusty old room in this giant horror house in the middle of what are probably haunted woods. I start to groan but stop myself, not wanting to risk waking Quinn.
I peek an eye open.
Even with the garish furniture I sent, there’s just…
wood. So much heavy, dark wood everywhere, wood stairs, wood beams, wood paneling half way up the walls, massive furniture of the same worn, dark cherry or mahogany or something.
I feel like I slept in an old-timey gentleman’s club.
I have to open my other eye and lean up a bit to get a good view of the bed across the room.
Empty.
Huh, I wonder what time it is? Oh yeah, I can look at the big ass grandfather clock with its tick tick tick that kept waking me up all night. Or, some of the night, I guess, since I slept through Quinn coming in late and leaving this morning.
Almost nine. Damn, guess having all one’s hopes and dreams crushed over the span of a single day will wear a girl out. I sit up, take a good look around, and throw myself back down.
Because…what the hell am I going to do now?
I knew he’d have information on me, I just didn’t expect him to know my secrets.
Only my father knew the truth, so I thought Quinn would only get the surface level stuff, the stuff I wanted the outside world to see.
The shopping, the manicures, the glam aesthetic on Instagram.
All of that worked nicely with my fake persona.
Which is all shit now.
He knows the truth.
Or some of it anyway.
I sigh and throw off the fluffy down comforter I stole from Quinn’s bed.
I guess he was fine with just a sheet. I smirk, imagining him cold and uncomfortable in his custom-made bed the size of a small country.
Except he’s so big, he probably runs hot.
He probably liked just the sheet. He probably sleeps naked, anyway, his whole massive torso exposed, with the sheet only covering his huge…
Wait, what?!
I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the couch. I rub my face, willing those crazy-ass thoughts away. I will not think about Quinn naked. He’s not remotely cute or handsome!
He’s just thrown me off my game, that’s all.
Not just with the bizarre headboard show and the low voice in my ear about willing participants.
It’s also how direct he is. His eyes, his tone, his whole vibe, they make me feel like he sees all, knows all.
And like he shows all, too. Like what I see is what I get with him.
Which can’t be true, because what I see is not a crazed killer who likes to compress skulls with his bare hands.
No, he’s playing me. He’s working me like I was trying to work him.
I didn’t even push him for answers. I should have.
Because, hello, am I supposed to sleep on the couch for our whole marriage?
And beyond sleeping, is he really fine with no sex with me, ever?
Does that mean he’s getting it elsewhere?
Fine if he is. Great. But what about a precious heir, won’t he want me to provide one of those?
Am I allowed to come and go as I please? Don’t I have to have a personal bodyguard? When do I get to go into the city and check my email? How far is the nearest mall for shit’s sake?!
Not that I want to go shopping.
But I do want off this compound.
Time for a new plan.
Think, Luna. Think!
Out of habit I reach down into my bag by my feet to pull out my laptop. But I remember I don’t need to bother. No internet connection. I grab my black book instead and start writing.
My plan is still the same:
Get out of this marriage. Get back home. Become Don, either by usurping Numb Nuts Bosco or convincing Papa or however I have to do it.
Setback:
Quinn is hellbent on staying married. He will not be deterred by silly antics. I can’t annoy him out of this. Plus, he wants the marriage to appear real to his people. Whatever. Real doesn’t mean happy. I’m not smiling and batting my lashes anymore.
So, what am I doing?
I write Quinn’s name and circle it.
There has to be something he wants, something important about his factory on the Sound. That’s a lever I can use. There are always levers, weaknesses. His are hidden but I found all of Papa’s secrets over the years. I can be patient. I have some power here, I just need to figure out what it is.
Wait.
I have one card I’ve always held to my chest and never used. It was my first instinct when I heard about the engagement and I should’ve run with it.
Sex is power.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
Ugh. Those words… the headboard gripped in his white knuckles, those eyes, the grit in his voice…myself and my vagina can confirm: he is a sexual being. He hasn’t done any overt ogling of my body or attempts to touch me or shown much interest at all, but I was pretending to be unhinged.
He didn’t care about the bloody sheets and I don’t get the feeling he cares about taking my virginity. But under all his scars and muscle, he’s still just a man.
Seduction is not hard, or at least, it never has been for me.
I was disturbingly young when I started trading boob grabs for intel about my father.
A few make out sessions with young guards got me access to names and schedules, which was all I needed to move around my father’s house in secret and uncover our entire world.
For anything my name alone couldn’t get me, I’ve made empty promises to tons of guys. Batted my long lashes, crossed my arms in a low cut shirt, licked my lips suggestively. Adding the virginity factor to all of those tactics has always turned the made men around me borderline feral.
Quinn is also a made man.
I can do this.
Seduce the giant. Get into his bed. Into his heart if he has one, which I doubt.
Most of all, I’ll get into his brain. Earn enough trust that he starts to let things slip around me.
A don never openly shares his secrets but a trusting man lets his little wife overhear conversations while she’s on her knees.
Leaves his black book on the table and then falls asleep after banging one out late in the night.
This is simple.
Plant suggestive, tempting seeds and be patient. Wait and watch, like I have my whole life.
Yes.
I nod and close my book with the pen tucked inside. I head to one of the big windows, feeling slightly better.
First, while Quinn isn’t around, I need more intel. I need to start figuring out how he thinks, what he wants. Sex, sure, power, obviously, but what else? This place is hella weird. It’s a mystery, which is a lot like a puzzle.
So, I’ll start solving.
I look out over the manicured lawns, seeing less dogs today.
There are a lot more men in vests and big black SUVs now than when we arrived.
If it were warmer, if there weren’t a panic-inducing amount of woods stretching endlessly past the guarded fences, it’d feel like home almost. Except for the notable lack of cameras where they should be, mounted every few feet scanning all directions.
“Ugh,” I groan aloud.
This is all so damn strange. I go to the opposite window and look out.
Okay, so, not like home at all. The back half of the property looks like a magazine with statues, flowers, multiple fountains, a pool.
Is that a maze garden? Then maybe an orchard?
And I can’t even see the back fence, which makes my heart begin to race.
I step back from the window.
One thing at a time.
Shower in a glorious bathroom. Next, go see if my poor little dog survived the night. Marlon didn’t ask to be a prop in all this. And, surprisingly, I miss him after toting him around everywhere with me the last month.
Then I’ll get some food. I have no appetite, since I’m stuck in a living nightmare, but I need to keep my strength up.
Marlon. Food. Recon. Seduction. I’ll walk the house, the yards, maybe even out into all the trees. I know this place is huge but I can cover a lot in a day.
I’m Luna fucking Mancini.
And I’m getting the hell out of here.