Chapter 1 #3
“His father is now dead, and Nico swears he passed on ownership of the Remano Auction. It’s gone to a cousin, and I’m inclined to believe him.
We need each other, a partnership that should keep us from double crossing each other.
He needs a bride within the next month, and we will highly benefit from the income he’ll receive from his father’s inheritance.
The union between our families will help shake off anyone who thinks they can best us and allow me to move men into Michigan to grow our business ventures.
Who better to be his bride than my beautiful daughter? ”
Now he needs me. Awesome.
“You could be a little happier about this, but no!”
His free hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back as I struggle not to whimper. Weakness even while on my knees could be a death sentence.
“I’m happy with whatever makes you happy, Papa.”
“Hmm. I’ll believe that when you walk down the aisle under a veil to hide your face and the words ‘I do’ cross your lips,” he snarls. “I will accept nothing less, Rosalia.”
It’s funny. I rarely hear my name from his lips. It’s always insults or “my daughter.” I am a commodity and nothing else.
“Yes, sir,” I rasp.
“I don’t want to see Verona while Nico is visiting. Where is she?”
“Visiting her grandmother. She’s a dutiful—”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. You two have been flaunting your relationship, haven’t you? She kisses your pussy and your mouth without pause, and you allow her to, don’t you?”
Italian men are so very odd about the exchange of bodily fluids. I don’t understand why, but I’ve caught the men who roam these halls discussing how they refuse to give oral to their wives and whores. They expect blow jobs, but the opposite is anathema.
It doesn’t matter if I tell my father I haven’t gone past kissing and heavy petting with Vero, he won’t believe me. She and I have never had the opportunity for more.
“No, Papa.” Anything more will invite him to kick me again.
“I don’t believe you!”
The mouth of the whiskey bottle is forced between my lips, and he upends it so the liquid flows into my mouth.
“Drink, goddamn you! Maybe it’ll loosen your lying lips.”
I force myself to swallow as much as I can, even as I choke on it. Whiskey spills onto the front of my dress, continuing to drench me so the white material becomes see-through. I’m not wearing a bra today, and I’m sure my body is on full display underneath my clothing.
I continue to sputter as he pulls the bottle away from me, and I’m shaking from the pain of choking on so much liquor. What I managed to swallow down burns as it travels through me, and I can tell the effects are going to hit me like a Mack truck soon.
I’m on borrowed time.
“As I was saying, the mantle of your responsibilities will be heavy. He needs an heir, and he needs it within the first year of this marriage.”
The words ring in my ears as I nod, unable to speak as the reality of my life fully hits me. I’ve always known I would become someone’s broodmare one day, knowing it’s happening in less than five weeks makes me lightheaded.
“Yes, sir,” I finally force out as he releases my hair completely. “When will I meet him?”
“In three hours.”
My father drops the heavy bottle on the desk, and begins to play with a lighter as he sits on the edge of it.
He glares at me as I kneel before him, flicking the flint wheel of the lighter with his thumb in thought.
Leaning forward, he grabs the skirt of my dress, pulling me toward him as I swallow back a scream.
The yellow-orange tip of the flame heralds a very painful death if he allows it too close to the liquor soaked material of my dress, and I’m not entirely sure I’d be able to get out of it without being burned.
Burn marks would ruin my value in my father’s eyes, even if he was responsible for it.
“You will not embarrass me, daughter, or it’ll be the last thing you ever do. I will relish in your screams as I kill you, even as I mourn the income you’d bring me by suffering your existence. Do I make myself clear?”
My heart slams in my chest as I see myself explode into flames.
Except, it only happens in the fucked up imagination of my mind, and I scream out something that resembles my assent.
Burning to death is up there with some of the worst ways to die on my list. I think it may even be worse than being raped to death.
The liquor slides through my veins, making me feel drunk and stupid when I need to be smart and sharp. I don’t know how I’m going to be sober enough to deal with Nico’s visit later, but I’ll have to make a solid effort.
Fuck, what if he thinks I’m a lush? I doubt that’s something he wants in a wife right? In my mind, Vero and my safety hinges in my marriage. She’ll leave the house once I’m no longer here. We may both be broken, but she’ll be alive.
I’ll merely exist as a semi sentient baby incubator. Maybe I’ll love my children, maybe not. I don’t have much experience with positive family relationships. I’m in love with my stepsister, and my family wants to fuck or kill me.
Lovely, huh?
“Good.” Papa removes the flame, and tosses the lighter onto the desk. “Go clean up, and don’t fucking embarrass me.”
My legs feel like jello as I attempt to get up and fail. I would crawl like a fucking dog, but that’s just begging to be kicked or set on fire. My chest heaves with every hard won breath as I move, and my stomach threatens to evacuate all the liquor I was forced to swallow down.
Finally on my feet, I stumble out of the office, collapsing against the wall once I’m out of my father’s sight. I really hope Vero doesn’t come home tonight. I don’t want her to fall victim to my father’s cruelty, and I’m not in any shape to protect her.
My hand trembles as I pull the knife from the holster on my thigh, despising how weak I feel.
My father’s men are like a pack of vultures, they’ll happily fall on me simply because I seem like easy prey.
The door to the study slams shut, a sure sign Papa no longer gives a shit what happens to me for the next three hours.
After all, I’m technically still a virgin if my other holes are fucked. All my father cares about is his reputation at this point, and my uncle’s smarmy grin tells me he knows that.
“You look like shit,” he says helpfully, watching as I push myself off the wall.
I say nothing as I force my legs to carry me on their own steam. The only thing keeping me going is desperation, spiritual duct tape, and the promise of a shower when I get to my room.
“It appears that the princess is out of favor with the king,” Tony chuckles. He’s my father’s current favorite enforcer. It’s not always a blessing to be Papa’s favorite. Sometimes, it can be a death sentence.
“I have to go upstairs to get ready,” I wheeze, my hand tightening around my knife.
“I heard what he said, we all did, didn’t we boys?” Uncle Elio asks with a shrug. “All I heard was that she had to stay a virgin and be able to walk.”
Adrenaline dumps into my bloodstream so quickly, I almost fall to my knees.
“No. I won’t go easily,” I promise, glaring at the two versions of my uncle as he steps toward me. My vision is blurring as the alcohol sinks into my system, betraying me with a warm glow I have no business feeling.
The odds are not in my favor.
“I’ve waited a long time to have you suck my cock,” he snarls.
“I am your niece, you gross old man,” I say, forcing myself to breathe. I cannot pass out.
I have to stay present for as long as I can. I promised Vero.
“You’re related in some way to almost everyone in this room,” Elio laughs.
He lunges for me and I react without thought, slicing down to dig my blade into his arm. I manage to remove a few of his fingers as well as I continue to drag the knife until it’s free again.
“I’m also more of a pain in the ass,” I rasp.
“I’ll gladly show you a pain in your ass,” one of the men laughs, palming his cock through his pants.