Chapter 4 #2
“I’m sure he would tell you I’m perfectly fine,” I wheeze. I’ve been having trouble getting enough oxygen lately, due to the pain in my ribs. I can't wrap them tightly enough on my own, which means I’ve been wearing one of my corsets to compress the area.
“Accept the video call, Rosa.”
“He’ll kill me if I do,” I reply. Hmm. I’m much too truthful. Shit. “I’ll see you in two weeks, Nico. I’m fine.”
“Let me tell you a few things,” he growls. “My chest has hurt since I left your home. I’ve gone through multiple different rabbit holes of what could be happening to you, as I’m not currently having a heart attack. I know because I had an appointment with a doctor who told me this is anxiety.”
“There are pills for that.”
“If only I could take a pill to make me feel better. Instead, all I can think about is you. Even my pack is struggling to keep me from leaving my rental. Tell me something real.”
I think about Verona and purse my lips. She’s the only thing real about me. I’m glad she hasn’t returned to the house. I hope she doesn’t, as it’s the only way to keep her safe.
“Everything about me is fabricated. A perfect mafia doll, just like everyone—”
“If you don’t answer this goddamned video request, I will be at your door with a priest to be married immediately, Rosa.”
“Ask again and I’ll drown the phone,” I growl.
Lifting my foot, I gaze at my wrinkled toes from the bath. I’m getting pruny, and my bush is still intact. Honestly, I groom myself just fine, my uncle is a bastard with too many opinions.
“I’ll send another. Rosa, answer the fucking video call.”
His bark comes through the phone just fine and I gasp as I find myself hitting accept.
Expletives explode in my mind, though I sag in relief when the camera only shows bubbles and my toes. Even then, I sink my foot back under the water because there’s bruising there as well.
“You weren’t clear,” I whisper. “Don’t use your bark on me again or I’ll slit your throat if I live to the wedding day.”
“Can you back that up, principessa? Exactly how many people have you killed? Also, why are there so many fucking bubbles in your bath? Doesn’t that mess with your ability to get clean?”
“You have a lot of questions, Nicolai. I’m not smart enough to keep up with them.”
That’s a lie. However, my pain levels are ramping up again. My short lived euphoria is over way too soon. Acetaminophen can’t touch this.
“People killed,” he says slowly. “How many?”
“I’ve lost track. I honestly try not to think about it very much.”
“Hmm.” I’m beginning to realize this is his form of a grunt. “Lift your leg up. I want to see it.”
“Are you being a perv? Just because I’m in the bath when you call, doesn’t mean you’re getting a show.”
“If I wanted to be a perv, I’d ask you to make yourself come while I talk you through it. I can reassure you that you’re not my type at all, and I’m merely asking to ensure my property is intact.”
Truths and lies. I’m very good at telling them apart. My father has me attend meetings simply to tap his hand when I hear the lies. My job is to immediately forget whatever I heard, and so I do because I used to value my life. Dropping the towel into the bath, I’m reminded that’s no longer true.
The cut isn’t bleeding and it shouldn’t even really scar. How lucky am I?
“Your property is tired of your bullshit.”
Nico can’t help me. In fact, his actions simply get me beaten even further than I already was.
“I did as you alpha barked. Now, get fucked.”
“Wait!” His scream makes me almost drop the phone and I have to catch it with both hands. When he gasps, I realize he’s getting a clear view of my face, though it’s upside down.
Quickly, I turn the phone back toward the faucet, my heart pounding as my lungs seize. God, I’m in so much goddamned trouble. Maybe my father will douse me in gasoline this time instead of liquor and actually light me on fire.
My wheezing becomes a sob as my mind betrays me. I can smell the gasoline, feel the heat of the flames, and hear my screams. Fuck, this is a panic attack.
“Rosa. Talk to me. Fuck. I’m getting in the car. Enough is enough.”
I don’t think any other words could force me to snap out of whatever hellscape my mind is trapping me in.
“No. Please. You’ll…make it worse,” I gasp. “The phone delivery is why my face looks like this. Nico…”
A low growl of anger makes me close my eyes again, and I sink myself under the water to scream. I make sure to keep my hand above it because I’m sure he’d just send another one if I kill the phone.
Rising up from the lukewarm water, I sigh, knowing I need to get out of the bathtub soon so I can shower. I’ll find another razor to shave and ignore the song the blade sings to me. I’m quickly losing the will to live.
“I’d ask if you feel better now, but since my chest feels so tight I can barely breathe, I won’t insult you or me.”
“How generous of you,” I gasp out. “I need to go.”
“I have to wait until you turn twenty-one to marry you, Rosa. Can you make it?”
“No.” I’m not giving into theatrics at this point. Now that I’ve thought about ending things, I’m afraid it’s all I’ll think about.
“Fuck. Fuck!”
I turned the volume down on the speaker the moment I answered the phone. Maybe I have some self preservation inside of me yet.
“I don’t even fucking know you. Why are you affecting me like this?”
That’s my question exactly.
“I don’t know. I’m emotionally unavailable, Nico. Papa had me punished for having a girlfriend the night you and I met. You wanted something real, so there you go.”
I don’t know why I’m telling him this. Maybe it’s just nice to have someone give a damn about me.
“I have a boyfriend. Aren’t we a pair? I don’t care who you love, principessa. It’ll have to end when we get married either way.”
There are so many more reasons why Vero and I can’t be together. I want to ask Nico if he plans on giving up his boyfriend too, but my energy is flagging. The time between closing and opening my eyes lags more and more, signaling that I’m dangerously close to falling asleep.
“I have to go.”
“Answer the phone when I call,” he grunts, hanging up.
Sighing, I drag myself out of the bath and place the phone on the counter. Unfortunately, this puts me eye to eye with my reflection. While bubbles still cling to my skin here and there, I can still see the damage done to my body.
Deciding that shaving is too much of a temptation, I get in the shower without looking for a razor.
I should be thanked for my restraint.
* * *
Six days later
Nico has called me two times a day since he had the phone delivered. My father grumbles less about it, but today he’s called me into his office to talk.
Wearing leggings, an under bust corset underneath my tank top, and nothing else, I walk into his man cave expecting the worst. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t done anything wrong, but I’m paranoid since my sleep has been shitty.
When I do drop off to sleep, I dream of Nico and Verona, with my betrothed killing my stepsister in very violent ways. It’s disturbing to say the least since he’s never said he’d hurt her.