Page 87 of King of Obsession

My breath hitched, fingers tightening around the pillow I was clutching. ‘Let me guess. One of the Conti brothers?’

‘Si. Fabio.’

‘Fucker,’ I breathed.

‘You’re not surprised?’

I shook my head, plucking at the surface of the seat. ‘It’s not the first attempt. What was it this time? A fire, cutting down my trees, or a fence pulled down?’

His eyes flashed with anger, not at me, thank fuck.

‘A rudimentary bomb, but enough to down your security system and fences. He was about to rig it up when I swung by.Before he had a chance at -.’

‘At kidnapping me.’

My voice was forlorn and weary.

Damn, I was so tired of this shit.

I closed my eyes to the pain of it all, only to fling them open at the warmth of a hand tracing my jaw, tilting my head up.

‘He said his father ordered him to, so you’d become his queen when he exited prison. Is this true, Cleo?’

I swallowed as my throat dried.

That’s when I took note of his tone.

Not hard-edged nor judgmental.

It was soft, kind, and burred, and I cherished its consideration despite the menacing light in his eyes.

Not aimed at me but at the man who’d tormented me.

Unable to handle Alessio’s righteous wrath, I canted my face from his.

He waited, the heat from his brawling muscle enveloping me, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

In time, my fight-or-flight response calmed, and I found the courage to speak, keeping my voice to a murmur.

‘I was brought up in a cult called the Outback Order, a bizarre quasi-religious sect active across Goulburn and Sydney. Franco was the local mayor once but was also its founder. A shitty, manipulative, opportunistic, cynical self-professed leader who groomed young girls in their early teens to become his wives and queens in his twisted harem. He’d pick one each year from the clan members’ children and send them letters, court them, before marrying them. In a secret wedding on his farm and making her his concubine queen.’

‘Fuck. A harem?’

‘In essence. When I was twelve, I was selected to be oneof them. I was told what I was supposed to do, what I was expected to be, the ‘shoulds and the should nots’. Life’s little instructions were scaffolded around me until all that advice and good intentions became oppressive, like a cage. I was thirteen when Franco chose me to be his queen.’

The pain and anger in my depths spilled out. ‘He wanted to own me, body and soul. To control every aspect of my life. And he would have if I hadn’t escaped.’

‘When?’

‘At fifteen, I was commanded to prepare for a wedding ceremony. Knowing I’d never be free, I ran away one night. I went to the cops, got him charged, and was arrested with child endangerment. A few months later, I testified against him in court. He was imprisoned, and the entire cult turned on me. I was hated, still am, more so by his sons who’ve taken every chance to come after me.’

‘How did you survive them?’ Alessio growled.

‘I lived on the farm with only my grandparents for company. My granddad would hide me away when the Contis came raging, angry at the fact I’d gotten their family head jailed. When I was 18, Franco was freed. Seeing no other option, my grandfather sent me to Italy to stay with his sister in Naples. But Franco found me, and you know the rest of the story. After you rescued me, I used the money I’d stolen from Franco that night and booked a ticket back to Sydney. I returned to find my grandfather was ill and my Nonna too weak to help much. So I nursed him until he died, put Guilia in care when it became impossible for her to live here, and took over the farm myself.’

Alessio reached out, taking my hand in his, stroking my cold skin and fingers. ‘Scusa, mia sola. I can’t even imagine what you went through.’

I shook my head, a bitter smile twisting my lips. ‘No one can unless they’ve lived it. The fear, the shame, the constant feeling of being judged and controlled. It was a nightmare that kept going for years.’

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