Chapter 2
Chapter Two
VERONA
I blindly drive to my grandmother’s house, while I worry this is the wrong decision. I’m just a normal person, even as an alpha. I’m naturally stronger than an omega or beta, but I’m not a killer. I’ve never held a gun in my hands or stabbed anyone before.
I can’t protect Rosa from her father, and it makes me hate myself.
I park haphazardly in the driveway, and my fingers twitch with emotional distress as I turn the vehicle off. I think about how Rosa said she often thinks about running, but I know we’d be running for the rest of our lives. That’s not a life.
Grabbing my purse, I drag myself out of the car and to the front door. My grandmother stands with her cane watching me with pursed lips and worried eyes, wondering why I’m here. She and I aren’t close, yet I still make the effort to visit her.
Family is important to me, especially since she’s my last living relative.
My father died when I was younger of alcohol poisoning, and my grandmother and I both lost my mother at the same time.
I’ve never told her who ultimately killed Mom, because my stepfather is the one who shot her to begin with.
I still don’t understand what triggered him to kill her, but I’ve learned just about anything can set him off.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Grandma murmurs, her strong fingers pulling me inside.
I lost my hair pin to Rosa at some point, so my hair is tangled down my back. I’m usually perfectly put together, the habit a throwback from when my mother was alive. She never complained about my hair in front of others, but Mom wanted to dye it blonde so it would be “normal”.
My father was Irish, while my mother was Italian, leaving me with bright red hair that she hated. Rosa has always thought there was a double standard in the way my mother treated us, but I was too ashamed to admit that my mother hated me as well.
Nothing was ever good enough for Beatrix Accetta. May she rot in hell.
“I feel like I may have,” I finally reply to my grandmother. She walks me through the house to the kitchen, the thump of her cane loud beside her, before she pushes me into a chair.
She has staff somewhere around this large house, but she enjoys being on her own whenever possible. Instead, they are the ones who move like ghosts through the house, so she might know a thing or two about wraiths.
“Talk to me,” she insists, pulling random things out of the cupboard.
I don’t bother to tell her that I don’t need anything, and instead sigh heavily.
“Rosa’s dad is having an episode,” I explain slowly. How do I tell my grandmother I’m living in a mafia man’s home?
“If ‘episode’ is code for homicidal rage, then I think we need to work on your communication skills.” My grandmother snorts in amusement she doesn’t feel before placing something in front of me in a cup.
I refuse to touch it, because it could be anything. My grandmother is known for her odd herbal concoctions, and I don’t think anything can cure what I have.
“Grandma…”
“No,” she growls, sitting across from me in her expensive skirt and white shirt. She looks the part of someone who is part of the elite that live in Savannah.
My mother made me into someone who can survive in that space, but it’s not something I enjoy. I never complain, I rub elbows with “friends” who would gladly claw your eyes out rather than speak to you. Rosa is my best friend and scent match.
She’s the only one I’ve ever wanted to be with. No one else understands how that’s possible, so I simply don’t speak about it. Our love isn’t acceptable.
“Renzo Accetta is an evil man, and your mother refused to believe me. You’re an adult, have your own money, and don’t need to continue living there. Yet…you’re acting like a stupid girl.”
“Maybe I am,” I sigh. “I won’t leave Rosalia, Grandma. He… I’m worried about her.”
“You can’t save her,” she scoffs. “There’s nothing you can do. Drink what’s in front of you. It’s rude to ignore my gifts, Verona.”
I wasn’t aware whatever is in front of me could be considered a gift, and gaze warily at it.
“It may be rude, but I’m going to pass, thank you. I can’t—”
“You can!” The old woman explodes from her chair, exasperated. The cane is hooked on the table, a reminder she only needs it occasionally. I push the glass away from me, tipping it over on purpose because I am not drinking it.
“Sorry, Grandma,” I say, completely unrepentant as I mop up the mess with a pretty towel. I’m careful not to get any of the liquid on my skin, since I have no idea what’s in her concoction.
“Sorry, my eye,” she mutters, grabbing my arm and pulling me out of my chair.
She’s stronger than she should be, dragging me across the house toward the stairs.
Her cane dangled from her arm, her anger giving her more strength than usual.
“I lost your mother to that vile alpha, I refuse to lose you too. I know you believe I don’t know anything, but I do.
I know about the twisted love between you and your sister, Verona.
Why you insist on doing this the hard way instead of drinking the damn tea, I’ll never know. ”
Shit. I didn’t think she’d legitimately drug me, but apparently that’s where we’re at on a Thursday afternoon. I attempt to dig my heels into the floor, my sandals aren’t a match against the highly polished wood.
“She’s not my sister, not by blood!” The hissed response doesn’t matter to her as she shoves me to my knees and yanks open the crawl space under her stairs.
“Ha! No one else cares, not when you grew up together.”
Her foot kicks at me, followed by her cane, forcing me back into the crawl space, even as I try to protect my face and ribs.
“That demon killed my daughter. You may hate me for this, but you will not see that girl again. Rosalia will be the end of your life as well. That entire family is poison!”
Grandma continues to use her cane to jab at my body, and I squish myself into the small space she’s herding me into in an effort to escape being knocked out. Since she can’t see me since she’s standing, she almost hits me several times in the head.
The door slams shut on me, and I throw myself against it to keep her from locking it. Unfortunately, she’s too fast for me, and I scream underneath the stairs, banging on the door.
“Let me out! I’d rather die with her than stay here!”
“You’re delusional,” my grandmother snarls. The house is older, and the door is hidden very well. People could follow my screams and not find me for days. “You need time to cool off, Verona. Your hormones are getting the best of you.”
God, her staff will probably think I’m a fucking ghost as they hear me scream and curse down here.
“I’ll check back in three days, Verona. Maybe you’ll sing a different tune then.”
Three! Holy fucking shit.
The sound of her cane is loud as it thumps over my head as she climbs the stairs above me. Screaming and banging on the door is pointless. No one will come help me, not when the scary bitch pays their bills.
Breathing hard, I fall back against the wall and shake my head.
Three fucking days. I’m so sorry, Rosa. I’m such a failure as your alpha.
* * *
ROSALIA
Something hits my head hard, waking me up and I groan pitifully. It’s as if opening my eyes reminds me of every ache, both inside and out.
“You’re going to be late,” Uncle Elio says too loudly, pretending he didn’t just throw something at me. “Get the fuck up, you lazy cow.”
I can’t respond because my mouth feels disgusting. Coughing, I shudder as I also gag.
“Don’t fucking puke, puttana. You’ve caused us enough trouble.”
I can smell and feel really unmentionable things on my skin. Forcing myself to scramble out of bed takes a lot of willpower, which is ruined when I fall to my knees as dizziness crashes over me.
“Don’t ruin the stitches the doctor gave you,” he complains, slamming a glass on the table. “This is for the hangover you’re probably having.”
The hand I cut is covered in gauze, and I truly hope the doctor wasn’t able to reattach his fingers. I’m feeling petty. I’m not drinking anything he’s offering, not after what happened earlier today.
I’m butt ass naked, and if I concentrate, I can feel the stretch of the stitches where the men who raped me tore my hole. It takes a lot to damage an omega…
Don’t think about it. Closing my eyes, I struggle not to inhale too deeply, because I can’t stand the smell of myself. Swallowing my pride, which lies in tatters around me, I crawl toward my bathroom.
I smell like liquor, the musk of cum, and the scents of too many men to count. I have no idea what happened once I passed out, and I decide that’s a blessing.
“The high and mighty princess has fallen,” Elio chuckles, grabbing my hair as his heavy footsteps follow me.
I’m too broken to fight as he yanks my head back and his fingers quickly move to squeeze my nose so I’ll open my mouth.
“Tony! Come help me with this bitch. I can’t fucking do this with my hand wrapped up.”
“Is she ready for more? She doesn’t have time for that,” Tony laughs, walking into the room as I slap at Elio’s hand to get him to let go. “Oh, she doesn’t want to take her medicine? The stupid cunt must be enjoying her headache then.”
“Renzo says she drank a fuck ton of whiskey. Help me get that into her stomach. He’s on the warpath. Her lovely betrothed will be here soon.”
The words are said menacingly as I gasp in oxygen through my mouth.
I’m too weak to keep Tony from forcing whatever is in the glass into my mouth, though a good amount of it ends up down my chin and neck.
It tastes like dirt, and I recognize that it's supposed to be some kind of hangover cure. They both leave me to drop onto the ground once they’re done, walking out of the room as if I’m less than nothing.