Page 45 of Bellona

Bellona took a shaky breath, tears still dripping down her face. She wiped at them, and a new horror clawed at her. "I don't understand... I don't cry."

"You love him, Bells. It's natural, I think," Set said uncertainly.

"You never cried over Ayla?"

"No. I shot myself in the head and followed her to the Duat. There was no time for tears," Set replied. He gave her back a comforting rub. "Ayla was dead, and Rafael is not. Remember that. He's been kidnapped and tortured more than once and never gave in. He's tougher than he looks, Bellona."

Bellona nodded. "I know, but he's so mortal, Set. I can't lose him like this."

"You won't. He's smart. He knows you love him and how protective of him you are. He knows you're coming for him."

Bellona tried to calm her breathing and let the war goddess come to the foreground, pushing down the lovesick, panicking woman. She would level Rome to get him back. There would be nowhere she wouldn't go, no place she wouldn't look.

"I have tried to do it the nicest way I could." Bellona opened her now golden eyes. Armor slid over her body, her blades appearing on her back, summoned by her silent call. "Rita wants a war. So war it is."

25

Rafael's chest burned like someone had poured acid over it. He woke, thrashing his arms and legs to try and fight off invisible enemies. His head pounded, and his mouth felt full of cotton. He recognized the feeling. It had been exactly the same when he'd been kidnapped by the Costas in his twenties.

"For fuck's sake, not again," he groaned. Bellona was going to kill him.

Rafael tried to think back to what had happened. He remembered going downstairs to get groceries that morning, and the bastard had used a taser. That was why his chest hurt. He had tried to fight them, but something had stung his neck as they had dragged him into a van.

Rafael opened his watering eyes and tried to get his bearings. The room he was being held in had 180-degree views of the dark ocean. It was night again. Fuck.

Bellona is coming. He didn't have to reassure himself because he knew it in his very soul. Bellona and Set already had all of Rita's properties listed to raid that night with Romulus's men. He would be found sooner or later.

Rafael tried to take some steadying breaths and looked about. He was zip-tied to a chair, and someone had dressed him in an expensive suit. His skin crawled at the thought of people touching him when he was unconscious. The table had been laid out with flowers, candles, crystal glasses, and expensive tableware. What in the fuck was this?

"Ah, you are awake. Excellent," a silken voice said from the other side of the room. Rafael turned his head and ground his teeth together.

Rita Costa glided into the room in a beautiful silk gown the color of blood. Objectively, she was a stunning woman, but with a soul as rotten as they came. Rafael yanked at his bonds, trying to snap them.

"Let me go, Rita," he said, keeping his voice steady.

Rita laughed and poured out two glasses of prosecco. "When I finally have you right where I want you? I think not, darling."

"I am not your darling and never will be. You aren't going to force me to marry you, Rita, no matter how much you torture me," Rafael said.

Rita raised a perfect eyebrow. "I don't need your consent to marry you or to fuck you for that matter. It would just make things more pleasant if you were compliant."

Rafael stared. "You really are crazy, you know that? You're talking about imprisonment, slavery, and rape, Rita."

"It's not rape if you enjoy it, Rafael." Her red lips lifted into a smirk. "And I can guarantee that you will."

Rita clapped her hands, and a man dressed in a white chef's uniform wheeled in a cart with covered dishes on it. Rita took her seat beside Rafael and crossed her long legs.

"Thank you. That smells wonderful," she purred to the man.

"I hope you enjoy it, signorina Costa," he replied with a bow before leaving.

"Let's have something to eat before getting down to business, shall we?" Rita said. She picked up a sharp knife and cut one of Rafael's hands free. "I'm sorry about only giving you one hand, but I don't trust you not to do anything stupid."

"I'm not a killer like you," Rafael replied. And the more helpless she thought he was, the better it would be. If he could play her game long enough to get her to free him, he would have a chance to knock her out somehow, get to a phone, and send a message to Bellona.

"A killer like me. Is that how you think of me?" Rita sipped her drink, her vicious eyes looking him over like he was some kind of trinket she was evaluating the worth of. "You don't know what I am, Rafael, because, in your arrogance, you have never bothered to find out."

Rafael picked up this fork but didn't try the steaming ravioli in front of him.

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