Fabiano shook his head. “Remo will handle you himself.”
I froze. “Fabiano,” I tried again. “You can’t allow that to happen. Don’t let him hurt me. Please.” The word tasted bitter in my mouth. Begging wasn’t something I had been taught, but this wasn’t a situation I had ever prepared for.
“Remo won’t ...” Fabiano trailed off and grimaced.
Pushing past my fear, I moved closer to Fabiano and gripped his arms. “If you are unwilling to help me, then at least tell me what I can do to stop Remo from hurting me. What does he want from me?”
Fabiano stepped back, so I had to release him. “Remo hates weakness. And in his eyes women are weak.”
“So I’m at the mercy of a man who hates women.”
“He hates weakness. But you are strong, Serafina.” He turned and left, closing the heavy door and locking me in.
I whirled around, my eyes scanning the surroundings for something I could use against Remo, but there was nothing, and he wasn’t a man who could be beaten in a fight. Strong? Was I strong? It didn’t feel that way right now. Fear pounded in my chest, in every fiber of my body.
My eyes darted to the mattress once more. Yesterday Danilo was supposed to claim me on satin sheets in the holy bond of matrimony. Today Remo would break me on a dirty mattress like a common whore.
I braced myself against the rough stone wall, fighting my rising panic. All my life I had been raised to be proud and noble, honorable and well-behaved, and it didn’t protect me.
The creak of the door made me tense, but I didn’t turn to see who had entered. I knew who it was, could feel his cruel eyes on me.
I peered up at the camera once more. Everything that happened would be recorded and sent to my uncle, fiancé, and father. And worse ... Samuel. I swallowed. They would see me at my worst. I wouldn’t let it come to that. I’d hold my head high no matter what happened.
“Are you ignoring me?” Remo asked from close behind me, and a small shiver shot down my spine.
“Does that ever work?” I said, wishing my voice came out stronger, but it was already a fight forcing those four words out of my tight throat.
“No,” Remo said. “I’m difficult to ignore.”
Impossible to ignore.
“Turn around,” Remo ordered.
I didn’t move, focusing on the gray stone in front of me. It wasn’t only an act of defiance. My legs refused to move. Fear kept me frozen, but Remo didn’t need to know that.
His hot breath ghosted over my neck, and I closed my eyes, wedging my lower lip between my teeth to stifle a sound. “Open disobedience?” he asked in a low voice. His palms pressed down on my shoulder blades, and I almost crumpled under their weight, even though he didn’t put much pressure behind the touch.
“On second thought,” he said gently. “This position works well too.”
The soft clink of a blade being unsheathed made me jump. Remo braced himself to both sides of me, a long dagger in one hand. His chest pressed up against my back. “I’ll give you a choice, Serafina. You can either get out of your dress by yourself or I’ll cut you out of it. What is it?”
I swallowed. I had expected another choice, one Vegas was famous for. A rush of relief filled me, but it was short-lived. I shifted my hand and covered the blade with my palm then curled my fingers around the cold steel.
“If you give me your knife, I’ll cut myself out of my dress,” I bit out.
Remo chuckled. A dark, joyless sound. “You want my knife?”
I nodded, and to my utter shock, Remo released the handle, and I held his dagger by the blade, the sharp edge cutting into my flesh. Remo stepped back, his warmth leaving my body. I stared at the deadly weapon in my hand. Slowly, drawing in a deep breath, I straightened and reached for the handle. I knew Remo hadn’t given me a fair chance. He was playing with me, trying to break my spirit by showing me that even a knife didn’t change the fact that I was at his mercy.
What he didn’t know was that Samuel and I had spent all our lives fighting with each other, like siblings always do, but when he’d become a Made Man, he started working with me on my fighting skills because he knew how our world treated women. He had tried to make me strong, and I was. I knew how to handle a knife, how to defeat an opponent. But I had never won against Samuel, and he was always careful not to hurt me. Remo was stronger than Samuel, and he would hurt me, would enjoy it. I could not beat Remo in a fight, not even when I had a knife and he didn’t.
Fabiano’s words flashed through my mind. Remo hates weakness. Even if I couldn’t beat Remo, I could show him I wasn’t weak.
“Maybe I should take my knife back since you don’t know what to do with it,” Remo said, almost disappointed. He stepped closer.
In a fluid motion, I turned around and jabbed at Remo while my other hand pulled up my dress. Remo blocked my attack by hitting my wrist. My years of training with Samuel prevented me from dropping the knife despite the sharp pain in my wrist.
A smile crossed Remo’s face, and I released my dress and rammed my fist into his abdomen while I slashed the knife at him once more. The blade grazed his arm and blood trickled down, but Remo didn’t even wince. His smile got wider as he took a step back, completely unfazed.
I lunged at him but got caught in my long skirt. I barreled into Remo and tried to land another deadlier cut. We fell and Remo landed on his back with me on top of him. I straddled him and stabbed at his stomach, but he gripped my wrist with a twisted grin on his face. I tried to force the knife down, but Remo didn’t budge. And then, suddenly, he showed me what it was like when he actually tried fighting back.
He bucked his hips, and before I could react, I landed on my back and Remo was on top of me. I struggled but he shoved my skirt up and knelt between my legs, moving closer until his pelvis thrust against me and I couldn’t use my legs to push him away. His fingers curled around my wrists and he pressed them into the mattress above my head, the knife still in my grasp and utterly useless. He had me pinned under his strong body, completely at his mercy, both of my hands fastened to the ground.
His dark eyes held excitement and a flicker of admiration. For a moment, I felt proud, but then my situation dawned on me. I was on my back, on a dirty mattress, under Remo. He had me where he wanted me from the start.
Fear overpowered my determination, and my body stiffened, my eyes darting to the disgusting mattress under me. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep my panic at bay. Remo regarded me intently. “Let go of the knife,” he murmured, and I did. I didn’t even hesitate.
Be strong.
I swallowed hard, reminding myself of the camera. I’d take my pride to the grave with me. “Just get it over with, Remo,” I said in disgust. “Rape me. I’m done playing your sick game. I’m not a chess piece.”
Remo’s dark eyes wandered over my face, my hair, my arms stretched out above my head. He leaned down, his cruel face coming closer. He stopped when our noses were almost brushing. His eyes weren’t black; they were the darkest brown I’d ever seen. He held my gaze, and I held his. I wouldn’t look away, no matter what he did. I wanted him to see me as I was. Not a weakness, not a pawn, but a human being.
“Not like this, Serafina,” he said. His voice was low and dark, mesmerizing, but it was his gaze that held me captive. “Not like a whore on a stained mattress.” He smiled, and it was worse than any glare or threat.
He brought his mouth down until his lips touched mine lightly, just barely, and yet a current shot through me. “I haven’t started playing, and you aren’t a mere chess piece. You are the queen.” He took the knife and straightened, releasing me in the process. He stood slowly, drawing up to his full height and staring down at me.
“And what are you in this game of chess?” I whispered harshly, still lying on the mattress.
“I’m the king.”
“You aren’t unbeatable.”
His eyes trailed over me until they returned to my face. “We’ll see.” He sheathed his knife. “Now get out of that dress. You won’t need it anymore.”
I sat up. “I won’t undress in front of you.”
Remo chuckled. “Oh this will be fun.” He waited, and I returned his gaze steadily. “The knife it is, then,” he said with a shrug.
“No,” I said firmly, struggling to my feet. I glared at him and reached behind myself, pulling down the zipper with an audible hiss. Never taking my eyes off him, I pulled at the fabric until it finally fell to the ground, a fluffy halo around my feet.
“White and golden like an angel,” Remo mused darkly as he took in every inch of me.
Even force of will couldn’t stop my cheeks from blazing with heat, being exposed like this in front of a man for the first time. Left in nothing but my white garter, white lace panties and a corset, goose bumps rippled across my skin at Remo’s scrutiny.
He bridged the distance between us, and I held my breath. He stopped close to me, dark eyes tracing my face, and he raised his hand, causing me to stiffen. The corner of his mouth twitched. Then his thumb brushed over my cheekbone. I drew back, away from the touch, which made him smile again.
“Virgin bashfulness, how endearing,” Remo said darkly, mocking me. “Don’t worry, Angel, I won’t tell anyone that I’m the first man who saw you like this.”