Simeone was practically salivating on the ground and jerking off, watching Serafina shower. She was a sight to behold, no argument. Her skin was pale like marble. Her ass two white orbs I wanted to sink my teeth into. There wasn’t a blemish on her body, not a single imperfection, so unlike my own. She had been protected all her life, kept safe from the dangers of this world, and here she was at my mercy.
“Turn around. I want to see your tits and cunt,” Simeone ordered, his hand moving faster on his cock.
Simeone was so wrapped up in watching her and wanking off, he didn’t notice me. “If you don’t turn around, I’ll call Remo.”
“I won’t turn around, you pig!” she hissed. “Then get Remo. I don’t care!”
“You little whore! I will turn you around myself.”
Simeone made a move as if to push off the doorway, when Serafina turned around, one arm wrapped protectively over her breasts, the other hand shielding her pussy. The water pouring down her face almost hid her tears. She gave Simeone the most disgusted look I’d ever seen, her head held high ... and then she spotted me.
“See, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Simeone rasped.
My lip curled. I pulled the knife from my holster, slid my fingers through the knuckle holder, relishing in the feel of the cold metal against my skin. She watched unmoving as I stepped up to Simeone. Her perfect proud lips wouldn’t utter a warning.
I wrapped my arm around his throat in a crushing grip and pressed my knife against his lower abdomen. He cried out in surprise and let go of his cock. “You were going to call me?” I asked.
His terror-widened eyes blinked up at me as his face turned red from the pressure of my grip. I loosened my hold so he could speak.
“Remo, I made sure she wasn’t messing around. It’s not how it looks.”
“Hmm. Did you know that no man has ever seen what you just saw?”
He shook his head frantically. I lifted my gaze to Serafina, who was watching with a frozen expression.
“You see, now you have seen something that I had no intention of sharing,” I explained in a pleasant voice. I slid the knife into his abdomen, only a couple of inches. He cried out, flailing in my grip. I held him fast, my eyes never leaving Serafina. Blood trickled down over my hand. His filthy blood.
Serafina dropped her arms to her side. I didn’t think she noticed. She stared at me in open horror. For once her prideful mask had slipped and revealed her true nature: a softhearted, breakable woman. And I took in the sight of her firm breasts and the golden curls at the apex of her thighs, perfectly trimmed into a triangle. For her wedding night. What a pity that poor Danilo would never get to see it. She was mine for the taking.
“Remo,” Simeone spluttered. “I won’t tell anyone what I saw. Please, I beg you.”
“I believe you,” I said mildly. “But you will remember.” I drove the knife deeper into his flesh, moving slow, letting him savor every inch of the blade. “Did you imagine how it would be to sink your filthy cock into her pussy?”
He gurgled.
The knife was buried to the hilt in his abdomen. “Did you imagine to bury yourself to the hilt inside her?” His eyes were bulging, his breathing labored.
I twisted the knife and he screamed again. Then I pulled it back out as slowly as it had gone in. His legs gave way, and I let him drop to the ground. He clutched his wound, crying like a coward. It would be another ten or fifteen minutes before he died. He’d wish it were less. “Remember what I told you about your eyeballs and tongue? Your cock will join them.”
I brought the knife down on his cock, and Serafina whirled around with a gasp.
SERAFINA
My hands were splayed out against the white tiles of the shower. I couldn’t breathe. Terror clogged my throat. Nothing in my upbringing had prepared me for this. Nothing could have. I was falling apart fast. Faster than I’d ever thought possible.
Pride and honor were the pillars of our world, the pillars of my upbringing. I needed to cling to them. He could take everything from me, but not that. Never that.
Simeone was screaming and I pressed my palms against my ears, trying to shut him out—to no avail.
Ice Princess no more.
My eyes were blurry from tears and water. But the image of Remo sinking his knife into a man with that twisted smile on his face was etched into my mind. How was I supposed to stay prideful? How was I supposed to hold my head high and not let him see my fear? Nothing had ever scared me more than Remo Falcone.
Monsters aren’t real, my mother had told me a long time ago when I was afraid to sleep in the dark and kept crawling into Samuel’s bed. I hadn’t believed her back then, and that was before meeting Remo.
The screaming stopped.
I shuddered and lowered my hands slowly. Something red caught my eyes. I looked down at the shower floor where red water was pooling around my feet. I blinked. And then it clicked. Floor-level shower. Remo bringing down the knife on the man’s ... My feet looked even paler against the red. My vision shifted and something broke apart in me. I was standing in someone’s blood.
I heard myself screaming and tried to get out of the blood but the ground was slippery. I twisted around, holding onto the shower walls. And then I saw the rest of the cell. The entire floor was covered in blood, and amidst it all stood Remo, tall and dark, knife still gleaming in his hand. His chest and arms were smeared with blood. Red. Red. Red. Everywhere.
I was still screaming and screaming until I couldn’t scream anymore because there was no air left in my lungs. And I could not breathe.
Remo sheathed his knife and stalked toward me.
I flailed, trying to get away from him, from the blood, from the sight of the dead man behind Remo.
My feet slipped on the floor, and I was falling. My knees sank into the blood, my hands followed.
Remo pulled me up, my body pressed against his, and the smell of blood filled my nose. I clutched at his shoulders for balance. And then I pulled one hand back and it came away red. And one glance down. Red. My skin. Red. Everything red.
My eyes found Remo’s blood covered body. Red. Red. Red.
I started struggling against his hold. I fought with all I had. “Please,” I gasped out. Remo lifted me in his arms, and I had no fight left in me. He carried me barefoot through the cell, stepping over the dead man. When had he got rid of his shoes?
A hysteric laugh bubbled up my throat, but it turned into a sob. This was too much.
Remo walked into another cell and set me down on the floor of the shower. I sank down, curling up on my side, unable to remain in a sitting position. My chest was heaving, but I wasn’t breathing. Through my foggy vision, I watched Remo getting out of his bloody clothes and coming toward me. Naked. I didn’t register more than that.
I closed my eyes.
He moved his arms under my knees and back and lifted me once more. Then cold water splashed down on me, and I sucked in a deep breath, my eyes shooting open. Remo shifted with me in his arms, leaning forward, his forehead pressed against the tiles as he looked down at me. His body shielded me from the cold water raining down on us, and his dark eyes held mine.
“It takes a while before the water gets warm down here,” he said calmly.
So calm. My eyes searched his face. Eerily calm. No sign that he had just killed a man in a barbaric way. I shuddered, my teeth chattering. Even when the water turned warm, my teeth kept clanking together, and they didn’t stop even when Remo stepped back out of the shower with me still in his arms.
Remo walked out of the cell and carried me through the corridor. Panic tore at my chest.
“Fuck,” someone said. A man.
“Get me a fucking blanket, Savio,” Remo growled.
He tightened his hold as he carried me upstairs. I closed my eyes, too shaken to put up a fight. Something soft and warm covered me, and then I was put down on warm leather.
“You can’t drive through the city naked. And there’s still blood on your body.”
“You can drive,” Remo said, and then his body eased in beside me.
“Where the fuck are we taking her?”
“Home.”
“Nino won’t like that one fucking bit. You know how protective he is of Kiara.”
“I don’t give a fuck. Now shut up and drive.”
I focused on breathing, focused on remembering what made me happy. Samuel. Mom. Dad. Sofia.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The minutes seemed to blur together, when Remo picked me up again and eventually put me down on something soft. My eyes peeled open, heavy-lidded and burning from crying.
The first thing I registered was the bed I was lying on. Soft satin sheets, blood-red. A majestic canopy bed made from black wood, the posts twisting as if two branches had wound around another to form each. Heavy blood-red drapes hung from the canopy, blocking the bright sunlight streaming into the bedroom. I put my trembling hand flat against the smooth sheet, white against red, like in the shower. I shuddered and started hyperventilating again.
Remo appeared beside the bed and sank down, causing the mattress to dip under his weight. He was naked except for a knife holster, which was strapped to his chest. Muscles and scars and barely restrained strength.
I averted my eyes, my teeth beginning to chatter again. Remo reached over me. “Don’t,” I said weakly. Then firmer, “Don’t touch me.”