Emila's POV
The study was a mausoleum of power. You know, the type that was built solely to intimidate mere mortals like me.
I looked around as we walked inside.
Bookshelves floor to ceiling. A massive desk that looked older than America. Behind it sat Don Enzo Marchetti.
He was exactly what I expected. Exactly what I imagined evil sons of bitches who go about murdering people for fun would look like.
Older than my father, silver hair swept back like a crown. But his eyes—those were sharp and gold-flecked—burned with the same dangerous fire. The kind of fire that consumed everything it touched.
"Emilia Conti." His voice rumbled through the room. "You look like your mother."
The air left my lungs.
Mama.
"You knew her?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.
My mother was forbidden in the Conti mansion. My father said it hurt too much to speak of her. Never mind the daughter who barely remembered her face.
"We were… acquainted." Enzo steepled his fingers. A scar ran from his knuckle to wrist, the skin puckered and white. "Sit."
I didn't move. "No. Thank you."
He studied me. Unblinking. I stared back.
I'm not afraid of you, I told him silently. I've been afraid my whole life. I'm done being afraid.
"You've caused quite a stir, girl." His voice was almost amused. "Your father's men are tearing the city apart looking for the boy who gave you that mark." He nodded at my neck. The bruise Luca left. "We Marchetti men can be possessive, you know. We hate when others eat our food. We hate it more when they mark our bride."
Luca.
My chest seized.
"I don't know what you're talking about." The lie came out smooth. "But you're right. I'm not a virgin." I paused. "Maybe you should pick a fight about it. With Vittorio. He promised you a pure merchandise. Clearly, I'm anything but"
Enzo laughed. It was this real laugh that rattled.
"Smart girl. And they said you were dull" He opened a drawer and tossed a photo onto the desk.
My breath caught.
There I was, blurred and pixelated, pressed against Luca in the alley outside La Luna. His hand cupping my face. Mine fisted in his jacket.
"Who is he?" Enzo asked softly. "Tell me his name, child. And I promise you, no harm will come to you or your father"
My father. Was this the part I pretend to want no harm to befall Vittorio Conti?
Oh well, I wasn't that good of an actress.
And as far me? Harm had very much come to me, I was to be married to the ape sitting behind that chair.
"A stranger." I murmured.
"Strangers don't risk Vittorio's wrath for a one-night stand." He leaned forward. "Tell me his name, and I'll ensure your wedding night is… painless."
My nails bit into my palms.
"Go to hell. And please take my father with you"
For a heartbeat, fury darkened his face. I simply stared at him. At the man who signed off on Paolo's hit.
Then he laughed again.
"You have your mother's spine. She, too, told me to burn." He stood, towering over me. "Salvatore. Take her to the bridal suite. Double the guards."
Strangely, I wanted to stay. I wanted to hear him talk about my mother.
Weird isn't it? hoping a murderous psychopath mentions your dead mother one more time, so you would know one more thing about her.
Salvatore yelled for his goons and just like that I was dragged away to the bridal suite.
***
The room like the entire house was near perfect. It looked nothing like a place where I would be raped repeatedly by Enzo Marchetti in the name of consummating the marriage I didn't consent to.
There was silk sheets. A balcony that overlooked the sea. A door bolted from the outside. Everything was soft and beautiful and... trapped.
I tried the window. Bolted.
I threw a vase at the wall. It shattered. Felt good for about three seconds.
Then I paced.
Luca. The thought clawed through my mind. They know about him. My father's hunting him. Enzo wants his name.
Because of me.
A knock made me freeze. I pulled the knife from my boot—Paolo's knife—and held it low.
The door opened.
A maid entered, head bowed, carrying a tray with a kettle and espresso cups.
"Leave me," I snapped.
She didn't move.
"I said—"
"Jesus, baby. It's me."
I froze. I knew that voice.
The maid lifted her head. Linda. Her curls stuffed under a lace cap. Her eyes lined with kohl. Grinning like the lunatic she was.
"How did you—"
"Marched in with the pastry chef." She crossed to me, and pulled me into a hug. "Turns out Marchettis hire help based on looks, not brains." She pulled away, then shoved a bundle of black fabric at me. "Put this on. Now."
The maid's uniform smelled like lemons and gun oil.
"There's a service exit past the kitchens." Linda strapped a knife to my thigh while I changed. "We've got six minutes before anyone notices they are a staff short at the bread table."
"Wait." I grabbed her arm. "I can't believe you came"
My eyes watered instantly.
"Hug me later, Emilia. More running now, sweetie" She blinked back tears too.
I nodded.
"I need to find Luca first." I told her and grabbed the uniform.
"Are you fucking crazy? We're not dying for some guy you banged!" Linda said through her gritted teeth.
"He's not just some guy." The words tumbled out. "My father's hunting him, Lyn. Enzo wants his name. They'll kill him because of me."
Linda stared at me.
"Emi. You don't even know his real name."
Luca. I almost told her. His name is Luca.
"I know he didn't ask for this." My voice cracked. "I walked up to him. I asked him. He was just… there. And now he's going to die because I was selfish."
Linda's face softened. Just a fraction.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know."
"Then we can't help him." She gripped my shoulders. "But we can get you out. And once you're safe, you can figure out how to find him. But if you stay here, we are both dead. Understand?"
I understood.
I hated it. But I understood. The sound of the key turning forced Linda to hide, after she yanked the black maid dress from me.
The door burst open.
Salvatore stood there, gun raised, eyes wild. Behind him, three guards with rifles.
"Miss me?" He smiled. The same smile from the crime scene photos. The same smile he wore while my brother bled out. "Enzo wants you downstairs. Now. It seems your boy toy is about to be your dead boy toy."
Color drained from my face. He laughed.
"No. Please, don't"
Salvatore's grin widened. "Maybe it's you." He held my gaze. "Maybe everyone who comes close to you ends up dead. Maybe I will take my time carving him up...just like I did with your brother's wife"
I lunged at him, almost took off his nose. He shoved me on the floor and stepped out of the room. His laughter echoed as he walked away.
"No! Please, don't!" I screamed "Don't hurt him!"