“You're owned now, do you understand what that means? You’re mine.”
I see Daddy shaking in his chair.
I nod once. Owned. Was there ever a time when I wasn't owned?
“Of course… Roman is merely translating from the Russian!” Alek interrupts, laughing thinly. “In our language, that word means something less harsh…”
Roman ignores Alek completely and turns back to Daddy. Holding his hand open in the air, he works his mouth around one last thing he needs to say. “Such a gift you've given me, Don Lauro. I am honored. And she does seem to be a good girl. But just to be sure… She is... innocent?”
My mouth falls open again and my heart stops. I'm not sure I'm ever going to be able to breathe again.
Daddy goes from crimson to purple. “Absolutely,” he growls. I can hear his teeth grinding together.
Roman nods thoughtfully, his brows folded over and knotty. He looks around the room and takes a few deep breaths. “You're absolutely certain? A girl so beautiful… She can remain innocent until now?”
Roman looks at me again, his eyes narrow and cruel. Quaking in my dress so hard that I’m afraid I will crumple at any moment, I am in utter shock. He registers almost no recognition of me at all, certainly not anything like the shocked, tentative tenderness I saw in his eyes last night.
I can't believe Daddy would just trade me to a man like this, to this monster. And I can't believe that this monster would insult Daddy in his own home. I'm half hoping that Jimmy Two-Fist is about to burst in the door and put a bullet in this guy’s brain.
“Well?” Roman says directly to me. “You're being delivered to me… intact?”
He's making me say it. Rage fills me, and I want to scream. I want to cry, to protect myself this humiliation. I glance at Alek just as he turns away, shaking his head slightly.
I should say no, just tell the truth and let them deal with the consequences. I should call these men out right now, and let Jimmy and Ronnie burst in and tear them to shreds. They would never stand a chance.
But I also want to protect Daddy from this humiliation. He's never had a man speak to him this way in his own house, I am absolutely certain of it.
I place my fist on the table and push myself slowly to standing, somehow managing to get my quaking legs underneath me.
“I am everything that you were promised,” I say in a slow, clear voice, holding Roman’s gaze stubbornly until my eyes burn. “Daddy, thank you so much for dinner. I think the excitement has gotten to me…”
Daddy's eyes meet mine. His face is a mask of rage and disappointment. I know that in his heart, he never meant to hurt me this way. And yet, what good is duty if everything is easy? He’ll never even know how deeply he has wounded me.
“You do look a bit pale, Marie,” he says in a low, weary voice. “Nuncio will take you home.”
I nod, grateful that there is an escape being opened for me. But as I begin to pivot away from the table, Roman rises from his seat and strides toward me with his arms out. Before I can do anything, he's folded me in an embrace, holding me against his broad chest in a way that makes me feel so small, so delicate and fragile, that I'm afraid I’ll break.
But I do not want to break, I want to kill him. I want to slice his throat open with a steak knife. I want to burn the other side of his face with the soup. Anything, anything to get away from this man.
“Sleep well, principessa,” Roman scoffs. He seems to know everything I'm thinking, and I hate him for that too.
And then he releases me, setting me back down and nudging me toward the door with his fingertips, like a toy that he set on its course. I walk out of the room with much dignity as I can muster, leaving the men to talk about their business without me.
CHAPTER 7
ALEK
The little princess runs out of the room, and I turn to her father with a shrug.
“She's very fiery,” I observe. I can’t help but smile, even though Don Lauro looks displeased. He opens his mouth to say something and I interrupt with a small bow. “I’d like to walk her to her car, if it's all right with you,” I say politely.
The fat, arrogant man settles back in his chair. He is so slow, so lazy, just like the rest of them. He just gave away his daughter, and let Roman insult him in his own house. Unbelievable, these people. They don't deserve the luck they've had.
Still, the situation could get so much worse and I feel like I should do something to help. Roman knuckles his chin and slumps back in his seat, refilling his wine glass to the brim without waiting for the housemaid or anything.
I give Roman a small signal to return to his usual non-speaking self so that I can handle this and catch his minute nod in response. I suspect he’s out of words anyway. That’s the most I’ve seen him speak in years. Usually he leaves the conversation to me, but she must have inspired him.