Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Eleonora
I shouldn’t be surprised.
This is classic Massimo Caruso behavior, always selfish and finding a way to blame his daughters when things go wrong. But it still hurts.
How is any of this my fault? I was inside the wedding perimeter, surrounded by his so-called elite security. Instead of ripping into his incompetent men for letting me get taken, he spent the entire phone call snarling at me like I’d chosen to be kidnapped just to ruin his precious alliance.
And even then, it wasn’t really about me. It was about Sienna. About the disruption to his plans. The great Massimo Caruso doesn’t care that the elder daughter is locked away with a rival, he only cares that the daughter he was trying to sell is no longer available for delivery.
I stand in front of the vanity mirror in the bathroom, staring at my reflection. Nico brought me back here right after the call and locked the door like always.
My cheek still has a smear of dried blood across it, from his knuckles when he brushed them across my cheek earlier. It’s flaky now, brownish-red against my skin. It's another man's blood, and I'm supposed to be repelled by the sight. But I'm not. Something is definitely wrong with me.
I wet a cloth under the faucet and start wiping it away. The water runs slightly pink as I clean my whole face, slow and methodical, trying to scrub the day off me.
My mind keeps drifting back to the basement.
The way Nico looked, shirtless, covered in sweat and someone else’s blood, muscles flexing with every brutal punch. The cold, controlled violence in his eyes. The absolute power he radiated while beating a man half to death and then cutting off his fingers without hesitation.
I should be terrified of him. I should be sick with fear. But instead, heat pools low in my belly every time I remember the way he stalked toward me afterward, eyes dark and dangerous. My thighs clench at the memory. My nipples tighten against the soft sweater.
What the hell is wrong with me? I have no sense of self-preservation. None.
The man who kidnapped me, threatened my sisters, and just mutilated someone in front of me… makes me wet. Makes me wonder what his mouth would feel like on mine. Makes me crave the violence and control I watched him unleash.
Jesus Eleonora, get a grip.
I drop the cloth into the sink and grip the edges of the counter, breathing hard as I stare at my own flushed reflection. I’m losing my mind in this house.
I hear the soft click of the bedroom door unlocking and look up just as Maria walks in, the same young maid from yesterday.
She offers me a small, careful smile. “Good evening, Miss Eleonora. Mr. Lombardi is expecting you downstairs for dinner.”
I let out a long, exhausted sigh. It’s been such a long, brutal day. The last thing I want right now is to sit across from Nico and pretend I’m not replaying every violent, heated moment in my head.
I shake my head. “Could you please tell him I’m not feeling well? I’d rather remain in here.”
Maria blinks, clearly surprised. Yesterday I’d practically thrown her out. Today I’m being… polite. Hell, even I’m surprised at myself. I guess I’m too drained to keep fighting.
She nods slowly. “Of course. I’ll let him know.”
She leaves, and I hear the lock engage again right after.
I huff and climb onto the bed, crossing my legs underneath me. My stomach is painfully empty. I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and I missed lunch completely because I was locked in his office. I’m starving, but I can't bring myself to face Nico, not when I'm feeling this vulnerable.
Hopefully he doesn’t storm up here and throw me over his shoulder again like last night.
The door clicks open. Well, I guess I'm about to find out.
“If you're here to force me to have dinner with you… I like having my meals by myself.”
My stupid heart immediately sinks with disappointment when I look up and see it’s not Nico who just walked in. It’s Lea, carrying a large tray loaded with food.
She closes the door behind her with her hip and gives me a warm but stern look.
“I hear you’re skipping dinner, young lady.”
I sit up straighter. “I’m not really hungry.”
“Nonsense,” she says, placing the tray on my bedside table. “You missed lunch too. You’re not missing dinner on my watch.”
The delicious smell of roasted chicken, garlic potatoes, and fresh bread fills the room. She straightens and gives me that motherly stare I’ve only ever seen from her.
“Eat. And make sure you clean that plate. Whatever you’re going through right now, starving yourself won’t fix it.”
A strange tightness forms in my throat. I nod, suddenly feeling dangerously close to tears.
“Thank you, Lea.”
She gives me a soft smile and a gentle pat on my shoulder before heading toward the door.
“Get some rest after you eat, dear.”
She turns and leaves without waiting for a reply. The door clicks shut behind her, and the lock engages once again.
I stare at the steaming plate, my stomach growling loudly now that the food is right in front of me.
I pull it closer, pick up the fork and take my first bite. I eat slowly, savoring the flavors, letting the warmth settle in my belly. For a few minutes, I almost forget where I am.
Not long after I’ve cleaned the plate, the door unlocks again. And my stupid heart does a little flip, then immediately drops when I see it’s only a maid coming to collect the tray. Not Nico.
I quickly shove the disappointment away. I have no idea why I keep thinking he'll come in here, and why I keep feeling disappointed.
She takes the empty dishes with a quiet nod and leaves. The lock clicks back into place.
I get up, walk into the bathroom, and start brushing my teeth. The minty foam fills my mouth as my mind wanders.
I hope my sisters are okay. I still hope Sienna and Domenico have made it far away by now, somewhere safe where they can actually be happy together.
And Papa… I wonder if he’ll meet Nico’s demands. They sounded extreme even from the little I overheard. My father is a man of immense pride. He doesn’t bend. He doesn’t like being strong-armed. Ever.
What happens if he refuses?
Will Nico really do it? Will he cut me up and send my body parts to my father like he threatened? The man is dangerous. I saw that brutality with my own eyes in the basement today. He’s capable of it. I have no doubt.
A shiver runs through me at the thought.
Either way, I’m going to be punished. If I ever get back home, Papa will make sure I pay dearly for getting kidnapped and ruining his precious alliance. But at least his punishments I know. They’re familiar.
I’d rather face my father’s wrath than be carved up and mailed back to him in pieces.
I spit out the toothpaste and rinse my mouth, staring at my tired reflection.
So I hope Papa meets Nico’s terms. Because as much as I hate being here… I want to live.