Bright lights momentarily blinded me as Niccolò shoved me onto the stage. I’d been fighting him the whole time, screaming in terror at the top of my lungs as he dragged me through a narrow, dimly lit hallway. He’d cuffed my hands behind my back and slapped his hand over my mouth, threatening to beat me within an inch of my life if I didn’t shut up.
“I’ll keep you alive,” he’d rasped, “only because killing you would be a merciful act compared to what will happen to you after the auction.”
Now I stood on a stage practically naked. A black chemise two sizes too small hugged every curve and was so tight on my breasts that the silken fabric did nothing to hide the hardened peaks of my nipples. It was freezing, but I couldn’t tell if my teeth were chattering because of the cold or only the sheer, paralyzing panic I felt.
My knees bit into stone as I looked up at the crowd through the thick tangles of curls falling over my face. They were all wearing masks. Some people tilted their heads to peer at me—to look at my body, to try to catch a glimpse between my legs.
Their masked faces blurred as my eyes welled with fresh tears. I blinked them away furiously, only for more to spill down my cheeks.
A clear, loud male voice rang out over the background chatter. “Riccardo has supplied a fresh treat for the party tonight, but this one will be… expensive.”
I found it hard to breathe as I watched the masked men turn and whisper to each other as they examined me like a prized mare and not a human being.
But then I froze, my heart leaping and twisting in my chest before falling into the pit of my stomach. Fear rippled over my skin, causing every fine, downy hair on my body to stand on end.
Oh God. No. Not him.
He was the only one not wearing a mask. Gray eyes met mine and held as I took in that impossibly handsome face that had plagued my nightmares for years. High cheekbones, olive skin, and dark hair swept back from his angular face. Stubble dusted a strong, sharp jaw. Sharp enough to cut. And beneath that jaw along his throat?
A scar that echoed in my memories.
His wide, full lips tilted into a knowing smile as his steel gray stare narrowed on my face. This man—this monster—had killed my brother.
Killian Ricci, the Don of the Ricci family, was a murderer, and the worst kind. He was merciless. They literally called him the Mano di Morte.
The Hand of Death.
And now he was toying with a paddle while he spoke to a masked man standing next to him. Would he bid on my body? Would he take me away, and if so, what kind of punishment would he inflict on my skin and my soul?
Why did my body suddenly react against my will at the thought? Heat bloomed over my belly and rushed to my core as I watched him run his tongue over his lower lip before biting down, all while his eyes stayed fixed on mine.
Not him. Anyone but him.
I held his gaze as absolute desperation flooded my system, leaving me breathless. Shouts lifted all around me. Numbers were yelled, each one higher than the last. But I couldn’t make out who was talking. I couldn’t process anything other than the fear ripping me to shreds. Every sound in the room became the ticking of a clock counting down to my death as I shut my eyes tight and lowered my head to the floor.
He’d take me apart piece by piece, until there was nothing left.
I swallowed back the urge to vomit and fought for breath.
“Sold for one million dollars to number forty-five!”
I sucked in a breath as I was yanked off the floor, and then I was being dragged back down that narrow hallway. I fought. I screamed and thrashed and cried for help, but no one stepped in and stopped what was happening.
Another woman passed me in the hallway, her chin tucked to her chest as she sobbed and sobbed, but the man holding her arms behind her back only taunted her as he walked her to the same stage where my death sentence had just been read.
“Shut up,” Niccolò hissed, shoving me hard against the wall before throwing me through an open door. I landed on my side against something hard and cold. Niccolò shut the door behind him, and I was swallowed by nothing but darkness.
I kicked my legs, which were unbound. I could run. I could get up and try to turn the knob of the door with my hands still bound behind my back. The cuffs were too tight, biting into my skin as I rolled to my knees and tried to stand.
But then the door opened, and a shadowed figure stepped inside. He turned on the light and groaned with what I only describe as satisfaction.
“What’d you do to end up here, pretty little thing?” His voice felt like a snake slithering into my ear, through my skull, and out the other side. I cowered away from him as he entered the room and shut and locked the door behind him. He knelt in front of me, tilting his head from side to side. He reached out and curled a lock of my hair through his fingers, tugging just a little, but enough to make me wince.
He liked that, so he did it again, harder. I whimpered and he smiled.
“You’re all mine now,” he whispered, his voice as smooth as fine scotch. I closed my eyes and prayed because there was nothing else I could do. Was this Killian Ricci? I wouldn’t be able to recognize his voice. I’d never heard his voice before.
But this man wore a mask.
Hope burst through my crippling fear as I looked up at what I could see of his face. He reached up, pulling the mask over his jaw so I could see his eyes.
Sera“Who are you?” I whispered to the man who’d just bought me for a million dollars.He was not handsome. He was not young. His eyes were bright and blue and cruel.“You know me, bella,” the old man crooned as he ran a finger down my cheek and along my jaw, pressing under my chin so I had to look up into his eyes. “Say my name.”“Gabriele de Luca,” I said, my voice a strained whisper as he smiled.“I do love the sound of that on your tongue.” He clucked, patting my cheek with his warm, clammy hand. He was my father’s age, maybe a little older. I didn’t know for sure.But what I did know was that they were enemies. Was this why I was taken? Was I kidnapped and sold so he could use me up and then kill me, returning what was left of my body to my father’s doorstep when he was done?I gagged at the thought, and gagged even harder as he slid his thumb into my mouth and over my tongue. I tasted copper, leather, and tobacco.“You better be worth the money I spent on you,” he warned, pressi
KillianThe petite, almost fragile-looking woman shivering like a wet cat in front of me was Delaney Lombardi. Her name rolled off my tongue as I tapped her shoulder to get her attention, but she was wide-eyed and in some kind of terrified trance.Tommaso sighed heavily, giving me an exasperated look as I snapped my fingers at her. “Raise your arms up,” my right-hand man told her. I glanced at Tommaso, shaking my head, as Delaney started sobbing between us. We were standing in a small alcove somewhere in the back of the mansion, three of my best guards forming a semi-circle around us to shield the girl from watchful eyes as Tommaso pulled a large sweatshirt over her head. It was his, and it swallowed her up so much that the length of it brushed against her knees.“Better?” Tommaso asked as Delaney glanced between us with wide hazel eyes filled with nothing but fear and confusion. That was a natural reaction, I supposed, but also a predictable one. Boring. “Pretty cold in here, huh?”S
SeraThey were speaking loudly in Italian. I was sure Gabriele and his men thought I didn’t know what they were saying, but I was fluent. My mom had seen to that, putting me and my brother Leonardo—Leo—into private catholic schools and bringing us up in what she lovingly called “the old way.”We’d spent summers in Italy with my maternal grandparents. I’d picked oranges from my Nonna’s tree, and she’d sliced them up and served them with olives, Coppa, and fresh bread.Tears streamed down my face as I shifted my focus back to their conversation and away from the beautiful memories of what was sometimes a loving, happy childhood before my mother died. My neck felt bare and cold without the weight of my rosary. I ached to reach up and rub it between my thumb and forefinger, but even the slightest movement of my arms sent a rush of searing pain through my hands as the handcuffs shredded my skin.Gabriele had me in his lap. I could smell cigar smoke and sweat even through the bag. I could d
SeraI’m dying.Gabriele was killing me, his arm pressed into my neck and cutting off my air supply. My fingernails clawed at his arm, but he didn’t move. I felt myself slipping into calm, cool darkness and it was a welcome relief.But then I heard shouting, and suddenly he released me. I took a deep, desperate breath even though I’d been reaching toward that bright light at the end of the tunnel that turned out to be the grime-covered lightbulb hanging from the ceiling instead. As soon as the humid, putrid air filled my lungs I started coughing and couldn’t stop.“What?” Gabriele shouted as he pulled on his pants and threw open the door. I couldn’t hear what the guard said, but Gabriele cursed under his breath as I brought my shaking hands up and clutched my neck where a bruise was surely forming. More coughs came, and Gabriel shoved me aside, cursing at me to be quiet.“Get her some different clothes,” he growled. “And make her eat. Force her if need be. I don’t want her losing any
SeraI clutched the sheet to my chest as a young woman entered the room. She was dressed in a pale blue uniform of some kind, her mousy brown hair pulled away from her face. I knew as soon as I laid eyes on her that my hopes of a rescue were foolish.She held a tray of food in one hand and a plastic bag in the other.“Hi.” She didn’t look me in the eyes when she spoke. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed on the tray of food. “I brought you something to eat and change into.”“I need out of here,” I said, “not food and clothes.”A guard moved into place outside the door as she closed it behind her. My heart fell into my stomach as a crushing weight settled there. What lengths would he go to in order to make sure I didn’t set one toe out of this prison? Was he waiting for his turn with me, like Gabriele had promised him? How patient a man could he be? Would he wait? Or if he saw an opportunity… I shook my head, scattering my thoughts. I couldn’t focus on every little threat right now. There
SeraGabriele moved toward me wearing nothing but a robe—a nice one. Something made of soft, cool fabric so unlike the tattered robe wrapped around me. I had no idea what time it was, but he looked like he’d slept and showered.At least he’d be clean when he forced himself on me, not that that even mattered.“Take off the robe,” he commanded in an emotionless voice that sent a chill skittering up my spine. I hesitated a second too long and anger flashed through his eyes as he stalked forward and yanked me into a seated position.I yelped as he slapped me hard across the face. I tasted blood but fought the urge to burst into tears as I remembered what I’d promised myself before I fell asleep.Let him touch you. Let him have his way. Live, for the love of God, live as long as you can and get out of here! Live, so you can kill this man with your bare hands. Live, so you can stop this madness from continuing.“What did I say about obeying me, bella?” He fisted my hair and forced me to loo
SeraThe body of the man who’d bought me continued to bleed all over the bed as the man who’d shot him in the back of the neck entered the room.Without thinking, I pushed the body off me, flailing as I tried to stay calm but lost the battle.He was fucking dead! Right on top of me.“Calm the fuck down,” my alleged savior said, coming at me. He growled through gritted teeth, but I smacked at him blindly, trying to get away.Manhandling me seemed to be no problem for him. Within seconds, his strong hands clasped my arms, twisting them as he pulled me against him, putting yet another bag over my head and hoisting me over his shoulder.He didn’t tie my wrists though. Still wild, I bucked and tried to comprehend what was happening. He merely adjusted my weight with a little toss that sent me a couple inches into the air. When I came back down and landed on his shoulder, it took the wind out of me. A hiss of involuntary sound left my lungs. He patted my rear end as if calming a skittish do
SeraTommaso spoke with kindness that made me instantly suspicious. “Your wrists look a bit rough. Infected, maybe. I’ll send someone upstairs to take a look at you.”I said nothing as he led me up a wide staircase that branched off into two separate wings of the enormous, echoing mansion decorated in dark wood and rich, gray and emerald tile.“A shower too, I think,” he said, his voice clipped and lifted. I looked up at him then, noticing the way his eyes creased sympathetically as he smiled. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”“I…” I trailed off. What was he playing at? Did he think he could appease me with hot water and a trip to the doctor? Maybe a lollipop if I behaved? Not likely. “No.”I faced forward, trembling slightly as he shrugged in defeat and motioned for me to turn down one long, darkened hallway. Runners stretched the length of the wide hallway, lined with art in heavy wooden frames that might have cost more than the art itself. If my hands hadn’t been bound I would have reache