Page 6 of Consort of the Crime Queen

"Good morning, Ms. Verderosa," he says, his voice a gravelly purr. "I'm so pleased you're finally awake."

Every muscle in my body goes taut. I know this man, though I've never met him. I've only seen his photograph. Giuseppe Imperioli, known to his friends as Zepp. Hadria's father. The head of the Imperioli Family.

Don Imperioli himself.

Fear tightens around my heart as I think back. The flowers…the needle…

I've been kidnapped. By Hadria's father…and Nero's father, too.

Don Imperioli's eyes pin me, two colorless chips of ice boring through my skin. Hadria has his eyes, but where hers are striking, his pale eyes merely make him look terrifying. "You've caused quite the commotion between my offspring, haven't you? Petulant children fighting over a favored toy." His smile is a cruel slash, devoid of warmth. "So I have taken their toy away."

I stay silent, unsure how to respond. I don't know what he has planned for me. Will he try to marry me off to Nero again? Kill me? I'm helpless, at the mercy of this ruthless old man. Because he looks ancient, but I know how merciless the Imperioli Don is. I've seen the results of his cruelty not only in Hadria, but in Chicago itself over the years.

When he smiles again, I shrink away. "Come, now," he chides me. "You mustn't be afraid of me. I have no desire to hurt you."

Somehow I know, with a deep certainty, that he is lying.

"W-what are you going to do to me?" I ask at last.

He gives a shrug, a mannerism that reminds me so much of Hadria I feel ill. "I need to bring my children to heel, Ms. Verderosa."

"And I am the reward for obedience?" My voice is steadier now, clear and calm, and he laughs in appreciation.

"My children think me a fool, you see. Think that they can do things in this city without my knowledge." He raises a finger slowly and taps the side of his nose. "But nothing is beyond the knowledge of Don Imperioli. Now—" He stands, movements steady despite his age. "—you must be hungry. I'll have some soup brought up straight away. Eat slowly, my dear. The drugs my man gave you may make you queasy."

Before I can reply, he exits, locking the door behind him with an ominous thunk.

I take deep breaths, willing myself not to panic. I am not powerless, I remind myself. Not anymore. And I'm definitely not a piece of meat to be waved around as bait, and not an object to be stolen away on a whim. Swinging my legs out of the bed, I make my way unsteadily to the attached bathroom on trembling legs.

I avoid my reflection at first, splashing my face with cold water again and again until the last cobwebs of disorientation clear. Looking up, I take in the stranger staring back at me. Dark circles under frightened eyes, limp hair, wan skin... I seem to have faded, becoming a pale specter of the woman I thought I was.

So much for using my beauty as a weapon, as Hadria always encouraged. I sneer at myself in the mirror, hands fisting on the marble countertop. I refuse to be anybody's pliable little captive. Not anymore. Not again. If Zepp Imperioli thinks me some naive pawn he can manipulate in this sick game of family power grabs, he is gravely mistaken.

I am a survivor. I endured my father and adapted to Hadria's no less dangerous domain. And during my time there, I found myself.

I will do whatever I must to return to Elysium. To Hadria. To the life I want to live.

I give the bathroom a quick search and find it stocked with unopened toiletries. I shower and then comb my hair until it gleams, pinning it back neatly in a way that makes me look about five years younger than I am. Good. A touch of gloss on my dry lips, and then I pinch hard at my cheeks until the color transforms me from wraith back to poised young woman.

The weapons at my disposal may not be guns or knives, but my mind, my charisma—and yes, my beauty…until I know where I stand with Don Imperioli, these are assets I dare not squander.

When I emerge, the food has arrived, set on a small table to the side on a tray, and Zepp is back as well, settled in the same chair as before. His eyes travel me head to toe, but all I see is surprise there. Not desire.

Well, at least that's one thing I don't have to worry about.

"Sit and eat," he commands, and I even give him a small grateful smile before I do. He watches me eat the bowl of mushroom soup with those pale, hooded eyes so much like Hadria's, and yet so alien. I keep my posture demure as I sip the rich soup slowly despite my hunger. I want to maintain a facade of frail femininity.

"I know you have been through an ordeal, little one," he says finally. "I want to help you, but you must tell me everything you know about my daughter and her...organization."

I widen my eyes, the picture of earnestness. "Oh, it has been an ordeal. Please forgive my poor manners earlier, Don Imperioli. I was overwhelmed, as you can imagine. And you have my deepest gratitude for delivering me from that wicked woman's clutches. Forgive me, I know she's your daughter, but…" I break off and bite my lip, casting my eyes down.

He blinks, clearly not expecting my attitude. But I'll need to play this very carefully, if I'm going to lull him into thinking me a nitwit while I gather information.

"Of course, of course," he murmurs. "She is quite insane with envy, my poor daughter. We must pity her for it, and remember at the same time, she is a dangerous woman. But tell me what you know. Where did she keep you while you were at this compound of hers—what does she call it?"

"Elysium." I put down my spoon, the picture of earnestness. "But it wasn't anywhere as beautiful as this." I gesture around the lavish suite. "My room—it was very run down, and she only had a handful of men working for her. She's desperate for money, she told me that herself, which is why she takes on any job that comes her way, no matter how immoral. Please, you must stop her quickly, before she hurts anyone else!"

He nods, seeming to relax.

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