Chapter 33

Mia

The party was a cacophony of noise and movement. People laughed, drank, and danced, they all had the nerve to look fucking happy, drowning in their dark world and crimes. They were probably all just as bad, if not worse than Lorenzo.

"Fucking smile." I said nothing. I didn't move, but my vision went black for a moment when he jabbed his gun into my side again. He pressed it hard. My eyes fluttered. My stomach lurched. "I said smile, bitch."

I didn't. I stumbled, barely keeping up with Lorenzo. He continued, cursing and glaring at anyone who seemed to be about to say something or even looked like they weren't having a good time.

Then, I noticed the man who had shot Marco near the back, lounging carelessly in his seat and watching over the rim of his glass of champagne. His eyes held a strange intensity, a flicker of something I couldn't quite decipher. It was a cold, calculating gaze, and it chilled me to the bone. Still, he recognized me. The man beside him looked to be wearing the same thing the men who were usually with Ivan wore, and that gave me more hope.

Maybe they'd say something to Ivan. Ivan was close to Albert. He wouldn't just do nothing, right? If not for Albert, then what about Katie? It was a fleeting hope when I hadn't had much of it.

I held his gaze until I couldn't with Lorenzo pushing me forward. He kept me moving, his grip tight on my arm. The gun was now warm against my side, or maybe I was bleeding. There was no telling. As he pushed me through the people who were drinking and laughing, I felt more alone than ever. He pushed me up the stairs. The sounds of the party started to fade as we went upstairs. Fear hit me. The third floor was probably too high to climb out of the window. It was further from the front door. It would be harder to escape from there.

Lorenzo pulled me down the hall to a door where two men were standing on either side. They both leered at me and chuckled.

"I brought her."

One of them snorted. "Interesting packaging."

They knocked on the door.

"Come in."

They opened the door, revealing a man sitting in a leather armchair, his silhouette imposing. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I recognized him. Elio, the infamous mafia boss. His face had been in the papers for weeks. He looked just as cruel as he had in the mugshots. His eyes were cold and calculating. His face was full of wrinkles. I couldn't imagine that he'd ever been a handsome man. In my experience, most mafia men weren't attractive. It was why they had to menace, threaten, coerce, and otherwise force people to do what they wanted.

Then, there were some who were ugly and just enjoyed forcing their will on people.

Which one he was, I had no idea. He was older than I expected, perhaps forty or older.

Old enough to be my father, and he leered at me like a wolf eyeing dinner.

If that wasn't bad enough, the details of the news reports came to me.

A shiver ran down my spine. I had read about him--heard about him. He was known to be brutal and cruel. His wife had been found brutally murdered--dismembered, decapitated, raped and left to rot on his Estate. He'd been the prime suspect, but he'd been released without any charges and the story had vanished from the news.... Along with every witness and reporter who had dared to speak up or look into it.

But it hadn't taken all of that to figure out that he'd done it.

I remember thinking knowing for sure he did it from how distinctly unmoved he'd during the proceedings and interviews. I remember the funeral being covered and the fact that he'd been there with a new woman on his arm and seen with another woman later that same day.

My stomach churned with fear. I was a pawn in a deadly game, and the stakes were higher than I could have imagined.

Suddenly, Elio laughed. The sound echoed in the room. It was a harsh and grating sound. His eyes raked over me, a predatory gleam in his gaze.

“You’re prettier in person,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “And you’ve got enough body to keep a man happy. Questionable fashion choices though...”

He laughed again, and I forced myself to meet his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. A wave of nausea washed over me as I noticed the Virgin Mary necklace around his neck. The irony was almost too much to bear. A man like him wearing the symbol of the Virgin? Pretending to be a devout Catholic. I would use it against him, if I got the chance. To be fair, most of the mafia tended to pretend.

"This is Mia," Lorenzo said, his voice stiff and formal. "Mia, this is Don Elio Oscuri. You'll address him as Don Oscuri."

I wasn't going to call him a damn thing.

Lorenzo nudged me. "Greet him."

I set my jaw.

Elio’s laughter grew louder. “She must be quite the handful if you had to beat her into submission,” he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Didn't seem like you were that effective. No matter." He licked his lips. "It's a favorite pastime of mine. Disciplining whores."

I gripped my fist. Lorenzo chuckled and let me go, but he said nothing. Elio waved a dismissive hand, and Lorenzo left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

Now, I was alone with the devil in an ugly suit.

"Come here," Elio said, shifting his hips forward. "I've been thinking about your mouth since I saw your photo."

I stepped back, eyeing the distance between us. Lorenzo had marched me pretty far into the room, and I didn't want to chance turning my back to him. His eyes narrowed.

"If I have to come over there, you're not going to like it." He smirked. "Or maybe you will."

I slipped backward, stumbling in the stupid shoes. I kicked one of the off. Seconds later, Elio lunged forward, his hands reaching for me. He grabbed me and yanked me into his arms. I shoved at his chest, but his grip was like iron.

“I’m married! Let me go!”

My throat hurt. I shoved and pushed, trying to get away from him.

He laughed, a cruel, mirthless sound. “That’s a pity,” he said, his eyes glinting with malice.

He shoved his face towards me, trying to kiss me. I shoved his face away from mine with my ringed hand, pressing the solid metal into his face.

"Let go of me!" I screamed, digging my nails into his face.

He roared, tearing his face away from mine. His grip faltered, and I shoved. I kicked off the other shoe and stumbled back.

I held up my hand, the wedding ring glinting in the dim light. “How do you manage to get through confession with the way you are? Are you looking forward to hell?"

Elio’s face contorted into a mask of rage as he touched his face. I turned back to the door trying to get to it. With a swift movement, he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me back, shoving me onto the low coffee table. The impact knocked the wind out of me. Pain shot through my body as I landed hard on the hard surface. He grabbed my hand and pulled, sliding me across the table. In a quick movement, he yanked at my fingers. A sharp pain shot through my hand. I screamed, my voice a hoarse whisper. The pain was excruciating, and I could feel my body going numb. The sharp crack of bone seemed to echo through me.

I spun around beating at his back as he tried to pull the ring off my hand. My eyes burned with tears. It hurt so much. My whole hand throbbed, but I balled my fists up as much as I could to keep him from taking the ring.

He yanked at my hand, struggling with the ring and making the pain worse. I thrashed.

"Let go, stupid girl," he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "It's a piece of junk. I’ll get you a proper ring, a diamond as big as your eye."

"I don't want your ring," I spat back, my voice shaky but resolute. "I don’t want anything from you or Lorenzo!"

"That how you talk about your father? No wonder he--"

"He’s never been a father to me. And I don't owe anything to either of you!"

I twisted around. My shoulder pulled tight. My whole body lit up with pain, but I drove my knee hard into his crotch. He doubled over with a groan, releasing me and stumbling.

"Fucking bitch..."

Seizing the moment, I tore away from him and sprinted to the door.

I grasped the knob and twisted.

It clicked.

Locked.