Page 10 of Scar

All three sets of eyes settle on her, then my brothers swing their attention in my direction, waiting, acutely aware of the power struggle between us.

A lock of my dark hair falls across one eye, but I don’t make a move to push it away.

My brothers are all watching us carefully, a captivated audience. Brando, as usual, looks suitably bored, like he’d rather be anywhere else but here. The other two look on in amusement, ribbing each other. I’m sure they’ve placed bets on who they believe will win this showdown.

“Why isn’t anyone eating?” Allegra asks, as she loads her plate with food – more than she can possibly eat – and shoots a friendly smile around the table. I’m sure my uncomfortable prisoner is playing at something the moment Lucky opens his mouth to speak.

“She’s got you by the balls, brother,” my brother chuckles, and I guess they’re all thinking the same thing, because their smirks say it all.

“Eat,” I growl, but there’s a hard edge to my voice.

The uncomfortable silence carries on throughout breakfast, but I ignore it, eating my lunch and pretending that my ‘wife’ isn’t shooting daggers my way.

“Which college are you at?” Rafi asks, and I roll my eyes and wait for an incoming missile.

“I was enrolled to go to college. Until I got married.” Her eyes slide toward me, giving me a healthy side-eye. “Things changed.”

“Why can’t you…”

“Rafi,” I warn him, and my younger brother slumps back into his chair.

“In what stratosphere do you think it’s okay for you to prevent me from going to college?” Allegra asks, angrily.

“The stratosphere where I throw you into the dungeon in my basement.”

“Bastard,” she mutters. No matter how many times she says it, she cannot say it enough. She thinks I’m an entitled bastard.

“Keep this up, and I won’t need a reason to throw you down there, Allegra.”

“You asshole!” she fumes, rising from her chair. She fists her hands at her sides, her body simmering with a quiet rage.

“Sit down, Allegra,” I command.

“I will not!”

“You seem to forget,” I tell her, leaning forward, my fork a menacing weapon in my hand. “Why you’re here. And it will do you well to know your place.”

Her face flushes with embarrassment at my rebuff as I flex; I brandish my power over her, reminding her of the huge imbalance between us. We’re two very different people, with a massive divide between us. Tip the scales either way and one could topple and fall over. That would probably be her, with any luck.

“You’re torturing me for something I didn’t do. You’ve taken my freedom, my name, my voice, …for what? How does it feel, dickhead? How does it feel to be a monster?”

Her voice rises, her scream the only sound in a chamber of silence. No longer smirking, the boys are in varying degrees of discomfort as they look around the room or busy themselves looking at the food in front of them.

My wife lets her gaze roam around the table as she takes each one of us in. She pauses at each face, as though memorizingevery line, every crease that makes us who we are. When her eyes land on me, she pierces me with her dark gaze and says nothing for the longest time. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but all I can see in her eyes is contempt.

Venom.

Fury.

Betrayal.

Spite.

She’s murderous.

“You’re an asshole, Scar Gatti. An asshole and a bastard. And to be clear, you may be planning my burial, but I’m going to make damn sure we’re buried side by side, dickhead.”

CHAPTER 9 – ALLEGRA

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