“Can we go?” I asked when I could speak without crying.
He pulled back and looked at me, his thumb wiping away some of the moisture around my eyes. “Not yet. I need to go down to breakfast, but I’ll make an excuse for you. Get packed. We’ll leave as soon as possible.”
I nodded and went to sit on the bed but stood again as soon as my ass made contact.
“Lucia?”
I looked at him.
“Does it hurt?” His face told me he knew it was a stupid question.
“What do you think?”
He studied me, his forehead furrowing. He at least had the decency to look away for a moment.
“If it means anything, I didn’t want to punish you on my father’s order.”
“But you did.”
“I’m trying to tell you I’m sorry.”
“Sometimes sorry isn’t enough, Salvatore.”
He stood there a moment, his eyes on mine. “Get packed. We’ll leave as soon as we can.”
He walked out the door and left me standing there in my towel.
His absence filled the space as soon as the door closed, and I hugged my arms around my belly, feeling more alone now than ever. But I forced myself to move. To get dressed. And as much as I hated it, to go down the stairs and face Franco Benedetti head-on.
I couldn’t hide, I wouldn’t. If I did, it showed that he’d won. That he’d shamed me, and I was hiding from him, afraid of him. Well, the latter was true, but I’d be damned if I’d let that fear get the better of me.
I dressed, packed my things, and pulled my wet hair into a bun before dabbing concealer under my eyes. I picked up my purse and walking out into the hallway. I paused, finding a staircase at either end. I looked over the banister, but all was quiet down below. I chose the stairs to my right and headed down, heard a door open and Salvatore’s voice coming from it. I followed his voice, steeling my spine as my heart raced and my belly flipped.
I would not let Franco Benedetti win. I would not.
I reached the door and would have turned the knob but Franco’s raised voice made me pull my hand away.
“You know what I expected of you!”
“I would not parade her through that room full of pariahs! She was humiliated enough! This is done. She’s mine. I choose!”
Something pounded. I imagined a fist and a table. Was it Salvatore’s? Was he defending me?
Then came Franco’s laughter. Quiet at first, menacing, slowly growing louder, almost manic. Someone clapped his hands.
“My son, he finally grows some balls.”
I fisted my hands, inhaling tightly.
“Fine, Salvatore. She’s your whore. But remember, I gave her to you. I can as easily take her back. Take care of Luke DeMarco before there are any more supporters. One week, or Dominic will do it. I’m finished with him.”
What? What did he mean, take care of Luke?
But then I heard footsteps, heavy and moving fast, and I charged toward the stairs. I bolted up then and ducked down behind the banister. Franco Benedetti stalked out of the room, his face tight with anger, his hands fisted at his sides.
I scurried back to the bedroom and closed the door, thinking, trying to make sense of it all. Should I call my sister and warn her about what I’d heard? Warn Luke? Or should I try to find out more first? See if Salvatore would tell me anything?
When a quick knock came, I jumped up, thinking it was Salvatore and that we could go. The door opened, but it was Dominic who stepped inside. He looked me over, his gaze odd, almost curious, but he remained at the entrance of the door.
“Hey,” he said casually. A smile curved his lips upward, his voice sounded almost sweet. Too sweet. “I wanted to see if you were okay. My brother can be a brute and, to be honest, it sounded like he wasn’t holding back last night.”
I flushed. Was he talking about the whipping or the sex or both?
“I…I’m fine.” I faltered.
He nodded and stepped inside. I didn’t like him, didn’t like the way his eyes shifted around the room and over me.
“I’m glad.” Again, his voice soft, his smile gentle. “If you ever need anything”—he grabbed a card out of his pocket—“this is my private number.”
“I don’t—”
“Just take it and hope you never have to use it. Like I said, my brother can be very physical. Brutal even. I’ve seen what he’s done before, Lucia. I’ve cleaned it up.”
What?
When I made no move, he closed the space between us, took my hand, turned it over, and pressed the card into my palm.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?”
I jumped at Salvatore’s sudden appearance, but Dominic only gave him a smirk and picked something out from under his fingernail.