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“I don’t?—”
“Why don’t we eat while we talk?” I stop Takeshi before he makes me say something to give away the parts of my plan I kept from Katsuo. “Kori made miso butter cookies, Shinji’s favorite.” I rush to the mattress with the cake box and pull out two cookies with red dots and give them to Takeshi and Shinji.
“You aren’t eating any?” Takeshi asks, his gaze lasers on me, disconcerting me.
Does he suspect something? I rack my recent memory for a slipup, but I’ve played my part.
“Of course.” I take a cookie with a green dot, making sure to hide the color as I extract it from the box.
“What does Paul get in exchange for us?” Shinji stares at his cookie without eating.
“You’ll have to ask Katsuo when you see him.” I surreptitiously watch them, waiting for them to eat at least one damn cookie. Everything hinges on them eating at least half of one.
Finally, I bite into mine. “I forgot how good this tastes. Then again, Kori made them, so they’re guaranteed to be delicious.” I eye my men, then the cookies in their hands while counting down the time in my head.
They both take a bite, then place their cookie on the box to pepper me with more questions. I deflect until Takeshi’s first yawn. Then Shinji follows suit. Soon they’re blinking blearily at me, and I almost huff in relief.
My last exchange with Katsuo before Kori began baking worried me. So I convinced her to add sedatives to the cookies resting on top of the cake with the hidden weapons. I had to ensure Takeshi and Shinji wouldn’t make things difficult when I surrendered myself to Paul.
My husbands slump to the side. I maneuver them on the mattress in a more comfortable position and breathe easier when their eyes don’t open. I caress their faces, lingering over their fading bruises.
“If things don’t go as planned,” I whisper, needing to voice my farewell, although Shinji and Takeshi can’t hear me. “I hope one day you’ll forgive me and find another woman who’ll give you the children and family you want.”
I sniff, hating whoever the woman is that they find to replace me, but wanting them to heal from the pain of losing me more. I take a shuddering breath and continue. “I can die in peace knowing you’re safe, and that’s more than I ever thought I’d have.” I kiss their warm lips and bruises one last time before the door opens and someone interrupts. “I love you.”
“Time’s up,” the same man who pushed me earlier says, bringing an end to my final moments with my husbands.
The asshole ushers me to a new area. The area is wider and more open than where Paul is keeping my husbands. Light filters through dusty windows, and we pass by an area with ropes hanging from the ceiling and splotches of dried blood on the floor.
I swallow my rage at the evidence of my husbands’ abuse.
“Over here. We’ve got the perfect setup for a woman with her…proclivities.” Tomasso stands in a far corner between another entrance and a gaudily made king-size bed.
A red velvet blanket and black pillows adorn the bed as if it came from a low-class brothel.
My guide pushes me toward Tomasso. I’m getting tired of this treatment, but if I won’t jeopardize the 0.01 percent chance I have of walking out of here alive.
“Whores don’t wear their hair up. Take it down.” Tomasso points at my head.
I glance around the room, nervous because the most dangerous person to my mental stability is missing. “Where’s Paul?”
“Don’t worry about him. He’ll get here when he gets here. Now take down your hair.”
I pull the barrette out of my hair and keep it in my fist.
Tomasso circles me, inventorying my features. “You must be very skillful. A natural, huh? So natural you deceived my nephew, now no one will carry on my family line. Your daddy must be so proud.”
I lurch at him. “Don’t you talk about my father.”
The man behind me grabs me by the elbows seconds before I get a punch in.
“Your father was a worthless traitor who deserved to die. Wait, did you target Paul because of your loser father’s death?”
I struggle against the man imprisoning my arms, welcoming the pain of strained muscles because it stops me from losing my shit at Tomasso throwing out Paul’s name. “I didn’t know you were related until after he violated me. But he deserved everything he got.”
Searing heat balloons across my cheek from Tomasso backhanding me.
“No one deserves… You know what? Fuck this. Let’s put together a gift for those assholes you conned into attacking my family.” He passes me and I follow him with my eyes to a camera I overlooked earlier.
