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Damiano pours himself a tumbler of bourbon before he turns to face me.
His eyes sweep over me with disgust, then he mutters, “Yes.”
The single word, sealing my fate, echoes around me.
Stefano closes in on me, and before I can scramble to my feet, he’s on top of me.
Suddenly, my parents pin my arms to the floor while Stefano crawls over my body.
“No!” I scream as I thrash against their hold.
When Damiano crouches beside us, I cry, “You were supposed to say no.”
His voice is a low rumble of thunder as he says, “You’re not strong enough to survive by my side.”
“No!” I sob as Stefano’s hands tear my clothes from my body. Everywhere he touches me, awful bruises appear, and blood starts to seep from my pores.
I scream, the taste of blood filling my throat.
Waking up with one hell of a start, I scramble off the bed, and running to the closet, I crawl into the farthest corner.
Wrapping my arms around my shins, I sit in the dark. I hold still as I try to stop the breaths from rushing over my lips.
Hiding in the closet is something I used to do to escape my parents. It’s been years since I’ve done it, but it’s the only thing I can think of while the nightmare’s still fresh in my mind.
A sob sputters over my lips, and I quickly press a hand to my mouth.
Shh…
What doesn’t break you makes you stronger.
Shh…
I can still feel Stefano’s hands on my body, and it makes my stomach churn.
“Gabriella!” Carlo’s voice cracks like thunder through the room.
Shh…
“Christ,” I hear him snap.
“Where is she?” I hear Damiano ask, his tone sounding very aggressive.
“No fucking idea,” Carlo mutters. “I heard her scream, and when I came into the bedroom, she was already gone.”
Suddenly, light fills the walk-in closet, and I let out a panicked sound. I desperately try to squeeze tighter into the corner, covering my mouth with both hands so I don’t make another sound.
“Fuck,” I hear Damiano growl. “You can go. I’ve got this.”
When my eyes fly up, I see Damiano towering in front of the closet with his gun in his hand. He’s only wearing sweatpants, but it doesn’t take away from how dangerous he looks right now as his eyes burn on me.
I start to shake my head and suppress the sob that’s threatening to choke me.
I struggle to get air into my lungs, and when he crouches beside me, my heart almost stops.
His tone is much gentler than I expect when he murmurs, “Breathe, principessa.”
Reaching for my hands, he pulls them away from my mouth. “You’re fucking smothering yourself.”
