Chapter 28 #3
That smile sent chills down my spine.
"You're right," her voice very light, but those eyes threaded with fine red veins had fire burning in them. "I did sell myself, because I was born to be a woman standing at the pinnacle of power."
She turned around, waving at those two silent men.
"Take her inside."
The two men moved. One grabbed my arm, the other holding me from the other side. Their hands were like iron clamps. I struggled once. Didn't budge.
"Let me go—"
"Don't make my men get rough," Bianca said without turning back, voice returning to that calm. "Walk yourself. It'll hurt less."
I was dragged into that abandoned warehouse. Inside was colder than outside, air filled with the stench of rust and mold. Broken glass and rusted parts scattered on the ground, tattered rags of indistinguishable color piled in corners.
They shoved me onto a chair, tied my wrists with rope. The rope dug into my flesh, pain making me gasp.
Bianca stood in front of me, looking down. The warehouse had no lights. Light leaked through cracks in broken windows, cutting her face into light and shadow halves. Her makeup smudged, hair messy, but her eyes bright, like something burning.
"You know," she crouched down, eye level with me, corner of her mouth lifting. "Everything you said is right. I am a woman who treats herself as merchandise for power. But I endured for five years. What did I get? I got you."
She reached out, fingers gripping my chin, force making me wince.
"You forgot one thing."
"What?"
"I don't need to sell myself anymore. Now, he's going to come begging me."
She released her hand, stood up, looking down at me.
"You think I came here today to argue with you? Olivia, I came today to take back what I'm owed."
"He'll never agree to your terms."
"He will," she said, voice carrying certainty. "Because you're here. Because your son is in my hands too."
My blood turned cold instantly.
"You think I wasted those five years?" She smiled. "I still have people in the manor. One word from me, and your son will be taken out. A five-year-old child—so easy to take from there."
"You touch him and see what happens."
"Don't worry," she crouched down, eye level with me, something almost tender in her eyes, but that tenderness made me sick. "I won't hurt him. At least not now. But whether Ezio agrees to my terms decides what happens next."
She stood up, stepped back two paces.
"You know, Olivia, I really envy your luck."
"What?"
"He could have easily inherited don, just by allying with my family," she said, voice light.
"But he refused. For some ridiculous freedom, for you—this heartless woman who abandoned him—he seized power himself.
He ruthlessly purged his opponents. He made himself the most untouchable man in this city—so nobody would ever dare tell him what to do again. All of it because of you."
So Ezio had carried so much these years... My heart clenched tight. I'd misunderstood him. I thought I didn't matter that much to him...
She looked at me, corner of her mouth lifting.
"He could have married me. We could have easily become New York's king and queen together! But because of you, this bitch, he threw everything away like a madman! Even when I tried to trap his heart with a fake pregnancy, it didn't work!"
So the miscarriage that made Ezio feel guilty and tolerant all along was fake, too! This cunning woman had been deceiving Ezio all along.
"Fuck! These five years, I thought staying by his side would make me the new lady of the family. Who knew you'd come back and I'd lose everything! Ha, doesn't matter. He thinks being strong enough means he'll never lose anyone again. But he doesn't know—"
She paused, voice suddenly going very quiet, so quiet it was like telling a secret only she knew.
"No matter how powerful he is, he can't protect you. Because I'll hide you away, hide you where he'll never find you. Unless—he agrees to my terms."
"You think he'll marry you if he agrees?"
"He will," she said, voice carrying a strange calm. "Because he won't dare gamble."
She turned toward the warehouse door.
"Bianca," I called after her.
She stopped, turned to look at me.
"Doing this will only make him hate you more."
She was silent for a moment.
"Hate?" She laughed, that smile especially piercing in the dim light. "Olivia, you think I care if he hates me? I care if he marries me. I care if the Colonna and Visconti alliance happens. I care if after five years of time, five years of humiliation, I get what I'm owed."
She looked at me, that fire in her eyes burning brighter.
"As for whether he hates me? Let him hate. Hate is still a way of remembering. At least he won't look at me like a painting on the wall anymore."
She pushed open the door and walked out.
The metal door closed behind her with a dull sound. Then the sound of chains—she was locking the door.
Footsteps gradually faded.
The warehouse fell quiet, so quiet I could only hear my own breathing.
The rope on my wrists was very tight. My fingertips were starting to go numb. I tried struggling once. The knot didn't budge.
I leaned against the chair back, tilted my head up, looking at the broken skylight overhead. Light leaked through there, thin as a thread, barely illuminating anything in the dark warehouse.
Stay calm, Olivia. Think of something.
He'll come.
Bianca was right. He'll come.
She'll use me to threaten him, use Leo to threaten him, take everything she can take.
But I knew one thing—
He wouldn't lose me again.
Before that, think of something. There has to be a way.
I closed my eyes and rested my head against the chair back.
Darkness wrapped around me like a thick cocoon.