Chapter Sixteen LEO #3
“You have two choices now,” I said quietly. “Confess what you told Chiara before the wedding.” I crouched slightly in front of him while he shook against the desk. “Or spend the next seven days begging God to let you die before the pain truly starts.”
Ventura broke faster than I expected. Not fully. Not enough. But fear cracked him open just enough for me to see it.
“She misunderstood,” he gasped, clutching the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles turned white. “I never said anything to hurt her.”
I stared at him. Unimpressed.
“What exactly,” I said softly, “did you tell my wife before the wedding?”
Ventura’s eyes darted wildly between me and Sergio.
“Nothing,” he insisted. “I told Chiara nothing.”
Lie. The panic rolling off him thickened the air in the study. Sergio leaned lazily against the wall watching the breakdown with visible amusement while Ventura sweated through his expensive suit.
I crouched slowly in front of him. “What did you say to her?”
“Nothing,” he managed.
“You expect me to believe she walked down the aisle terrified of me for no reason?” I hissed.
“She’s emotional,” he snapped too quickly. “Sensitive. Always has been.”
Rage slid cold and sharp beneath my skin.
“She cried in my bed,” I said quietly. Ventura froze.
“She looked at me like something inside her broke before she ever reached that altar.” I tilted my head slightly. “So let’s try this again.”
His breathing turned ragged. “What. Did. You. Tell. Her.”
“Nothing!” he shouted. The room went still. Ventura realized he’d lost control of himself. Too late. Sweat poured down his face now while he clutched his stomach harder. Good.
I rose slowly to my feet. Towering over him.
“She thinks I married her for a reason,” I said softly. “Something changed before the wedding.”
“I don’t know what’s going on inside that girl’s head,” Ventura hissed desperately. “She’s always been dramatic-”
My hand slammed onto the desk beside him hard enough to splinter wood. Ventura flinched violently. Sergio smiled.
“Careful,” he murmured. “Boss hates when people insult his wife.”
Ventura’s eyes widened slightly at that. Wife. Not bargaining chip. Not alliance. Interesting how quickly possessiveness had rooted itself inside me. I leaned closer slowly.
“You bruised her,” I said quietly. “You terrorized her for years.” My voice dropped lower. “And now she wakes up screaming in my bed.”
“I disciplined my daughter-” Ventura coughed.
“No.” My gaze locked onto his. “You broke her.”
Ventura’s mouth tightened stubbornly. Then, despite the sweat dripping down his temples and the fear hollowing his face, he spat out: “You’ll never prove anything.”
Ah. There he was. The real Lorenzo Ventura. Cruel. Cowardly. And arrogant enough to think surviving this was still possible. I smiled slowly. Coldly. “That’s unfortunate.”
His face paled further. “What?”
I adjusted my cufflinks calmly. “Because I was actually hoping you’d confess.”
Real fear flickered across his expression now. “I told you the truth.”
“No,” I corrected softly. “You told me a version of it.”
Ventura stumbled backward as another wave of panic rolled through him. His breathing sharpened violently.
“You’re bluffing,” he said again, weaker this time. I tilted my head. Right on cue, his body folded with a choked gasp as pain ripped through his stomach.
The poison itself wouldn’t fully activate for hours. But fear? Fear was beautiful. Fear made the body destroy itself long before toxins ever needed to. Ventura collapsed against the desk shaking.
Sergio took a slow sip of bourbon beside him. “Jesus,” he mused. “You really never learn.”
“P-Please-” Ventura rasped. I crouched in front of him one final time.
“The next few days are going to hurt,” I said mildly. “A lot.”
Terror widened his eyes.
“You’ll sweat first. Then fever.” I smiled faintly. “By day three, you’ll wish for death.”
“You fucking monster,” he choked.
“No.” I rose smoothly to my feet again. “Monsters kill quickly.”
Ventura grabbed desperately at my sleeve. “Leonardo-”
I looked down at his trembling hand touching my suit. Then slowly back at him.
“You should start praying,” I said quietly. “Because right now?” My smile sharpened. “I’m the only man standing between you and agony.”
Then I stepped away from him. Ventura collapsed to his knees behind us with a broken sound while Sergio opened the study doors. We left him there sweating, shaking, and curled against the floor in terror.
I was halfway toward the front doors when something small slammed directly into my legs. Tiny arms wrapped around my waist.
“Well,” a small voice announced dramatically, “you’re very hard to catch.”
I looked down. Sienna Ventura stared up at me in a pink dress with crooked braids and huge dark eyes. For one stunned second, I genuinely had no idea what to do.
Sergio lost his mind behind me. A choking sound escaped him before he turned away coughing into his fist to hide laughter. Traitor.
Sienna squeezed me tighter. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“You found me,” I said carefully.
“Yes.” She tilted her head back farther. “You’re really tall. Did you grow more since the wedding?”
“I don’t think so,” I chuckled.
“I think you have!” she said fervently.
Sergio outright barked a laugh behind me. I ignored him.
Sienna leaned back enough to study my face seriously. “Where’s Chiara?”
“At home,” I said carefully.
“Is she still sad?” she asked, eyes wide. The question hit harder than it should have.
“A little,” I admitted.
Sienna frowned. “That’s bad.”
“Yes.” I was starting to sweat now, too.
“You should fix it.” Sienna’s eyes lit up. “You should take her to the zoo!”
Interesting how six-year-olds viewed the world. Simple. Brutally honest. I crouched slightly so she didn’t have to crane her neck so hard.
“She slept peacefully last night,” I said quietly. “That’s a start.”
Sienna considered this very seriously. Then she nodded once like we’d concluded an important business meeting. “Good job.”
Before I could respond, she grabbed my hand. “Do you want to play?”
Sergio nearly inhaled his own tongue.
“You,” he choked out behind me, “playing?”
I shot him a flat look. Sienna tugged my hand harder. “Come on.”
“I’m a little busy, piccolina,” I managed.
“You’re always busy,” she informed me sternly. I blinked once.
“She sounds exactly like Chiara,” Sergio muttered.
Unfortunately? He wasn’t wrong. Sienna kept holding my hand anyway, completely unafraid of me. Nobody touched me casually. Not anymore. Men feared me too much. Women wanted something. But this little girl only looked annoyed I wasn’t agreeing to whatever game she had planned. Strange feeling.
I glanced toward the hallway behind her. No guards nearby. No staff interfering. Ventura really was losing control of his own house. Useful.
I leaned closer slightly. “Sienna.”
Her eyes widened at my serious tone. “I’m going to tell you something important.”
“Okay, Signore Serpent,” she said.
“There’s a new maid working here now. Her name is Rosa.” Sienna nodded slowly.
“If you ever need me,” I continued quietly, “you tell Rosa you want to send a message to the zoo.”
“The zoo?” she whispered excitedly.
“Yes.”
“What kind of message?” She blinked quickly.
“Any kind.” My gaze sharpened slightly. “If your Papa scares you. If Aurora needs help. If Matteo gets hurt.” I brushed one finger beneath her chin gently. “Or if you want your big sister.”
Sienna stared at me with frightening intelligence for a six-year-old.
“You put a spy in our house,” she whispered.
Sergio made another strangled sound behind me. I smiled faintly. “Yes.”
“That’s pretty cool, Mister Snake,” Sienna said, sounding impressed.
I probably should have been concerned how much this child enjoyed criminal behavior. Instead, amusement tugged unexpectedly at my mouth. Then Sienna’s expression shifted. More hesitant this time. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
Her voice dropped into a whisper. “Are you really The Serpent?”
The hallway seemed to quiet around us. I held her gaze for a moment before nodding once. “Yes. You knew that already.”
Sienna looked down. At my hand. At the tattoos disappearing beneath my sleeves. Then back up at me.
“I’m scared of snakes,” she admitted softly. Something about the confession made my chest tighten unexpectedly.
I leaned closer to her. “Do you know why people fear snakes?”
She shook her head. “Because snakes only bite when they think something dangerous is near them.”
Sienna listened carefully.
“Most snakes want to hide,” I continued quietly. “They don’t attack unless someone corners them first.”
Her brows furrowed slightly. “So they’re not evil?”
“No.” I brushed her braid lightly between my fingers. “Just misunderstood.”
Sienna thought about that for several long seconds. Then she asked very seriously, “Would your snake bite me?”
“Definitely not,” I said.
“Promise?”
“I promise,” I nodded.
She visibly relaxed. Interesting. I stood slowly again.
“You know,” I said casually, “one day I’ll take you and Chiara to the zoo.”
Sienna gasped like I’d offered her the moon. “A real zoo?”
“Yes.”
“With giraffes?” She clapped her hands together.
“If you want. And zebras.”
“And penguins?” she gasped.
“Sure.”
“And snakes?” At this thought, she shivered a little.
I smirked slightly. “Especially snakes. And I’ll show you that they’re not so scary. If you don’t piss them off.”