Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
We were in the same class in school, and he always had this malevolent air to him. I avoided him at all costs, and now the man has unfettered access to my room and life. It’s terrifying.
He shouldn’t touch me. He shouldn’t think he has a right to threaten me, yet here I sit, shaking, wondering what he’s going to do to me today.
Alessio would literally slit the throat of anyone who so much as darted their eyes in my direction, but his little brother isn’t concerned about the chance of that happening.
He’s Alessio’s blood, and to the family, that means everything. I’m an offering, a reward, my inheritance more the gift than me. Alessio might be angry, but Marcello would never suffer the same fate as one of their men. It’s why the younger Severino has had no problems doing what he’s done, making me do what he wants.
Their family connection is also what keeps me silent. The threat of trying to come between the two of them is a terrifying warning to keep my mouth shut. I’ve seen what happens to someone who speaks out against Marcello. It took weeks for the last guy to float back to the surface of Lake Michigan. I know better by example.
“You look sad this morning, caged little bird,” Marcello says, his voice sinister rather than concerned.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, wondering if he will read it as a challenge.
His smile is soft, something I’ve learned not to be fooled by.
Marcello is twenty-one, the same age as me, and females have been obsessed with him since grade school. Something I had to witness on numerous occasions. Not much has changed since our transition into adulthood.
I’ve seen the women respond to both Marcello and Alessio. Their smiles are radiant, their dark eyes bringing a sort of mystery that fools women into thinking they’re the type of men they want to get to know better. They wear masks in public, charming enough to draw nearly anyone in. I’ve seen how quickly those masks change, how skilled they are at luring in prey. Women practically fall over themselves for the opportunity to be in their atmosphere. They have no idea the danger they’re in when all they want is the protection of the family.
Those women’s smiles have turned to screams of terror, eyes filled with shock as they’re hurt.
Alessio and Marcello pick and choose. One week, I could be forced to witness them fucking some girl, having to listen to her beg for more, harder, faster. The next, it’s very possible I’ll bear witness to her screaming for her life. The silence that comes not long after the cry for help is the hardest for me. It’s when their eyes turn from victory at scoring a Severino for the night to terror at realizing what’s going to happen that haunts my dreams.
“We’re going on a trip,” he says.
“I’ll wait anxiously for your return.” I know the man doesn’t actually believe that I miss him when Alessio and he leave town, but it’s what he wants to hear. Not saying it would be just one more challenge I’ll have to survive.
“Miss me?” He chuckles, and I hate the humorless sound. “You’re coming with us.”
My eyes burn with unshed tears, but I’ve become a professional at keeping those emotions at bay. The man in front of me loves nothing more than my tears.
He inches closer, the fronts of his thighs touching the footboard of my bed.
My vulnerability is apparent, and despite Marcello never taking liberties that far, I know it will happen one day. I know my virginity is still intact because it’s one more threat he has over me rather than it being promised to his brother on our wedding night.
“Wh-Where are we going?” I smile at him, hoping he doesn’t focus on my stammer.
The trips away from Chicago are the worst. It’s as if the distance the younger Severino put between them and their father makes them wilder, crazier, and more likely to take risks.
His gaze runs up my blanket-covered legs, pausing on my chest before lifting all the way to my eyes.
“Mexico,” he says, and I know better than to argue.
I know why they’re heading that far south. I know their father will not be happy when he finds out about their trip. I also know better than to open my mouth and remind him of any of it.
I hate my father a little more right now, as I do every time I’m forced to travel with them. I have no idea how long we’ll be gone, but the longer it is, the worse it is for me. It gives time for bruises to heal.
I swallow as I nod. “Will we have a chance to go to the beach?”
He shrugs. “Maybe. I’ll talk to Alessio about it. You know he likes to make his bride-to-be happy.”