Page 28 of What's Left of Us

And, more importantly, why do I care?

CHAPTER EIGHT

Georgia/ Seven Years Ago

Irealized mylife was going to change the moment I’d allowed somebody to tear past the walls I had all but promised to protect until marriage. Until that moment, I never truly understood the weight of the promise I made to my stepmother about the future or why it was so important to obey.

“There are traditions,” Leani tells me, overseeing the way Mrs. Ricci does my hair for a charity event the family is hosting. The curls seem extreme, but Leani tells me it’s what Daddy wants, so I suffer through it. “You’re old enough to hear the important role you’ll play within those traditions. You are to behave like a lady. No misbehaving, no talking out of line, and most vital of all, for when you are older, no handing out your virtue. It is not a gift to be given, but a prize to protect. Do you understand?”

I nod to appease her, even though I don’t understand at all.

“One day,” Leani says quietly, caressing my cheek, “that virtue will be the key to your future.Ourfuture, Georgia. Us women have the power to dictate just how strong our alliances are by giving it to the right person. Always remember that.”

Back then, Leani seemed almost…motherly to me. Like she had a plan for us that I played a key role in. And I always had a gut feeling that the role she referred to was very different than the one she spoke to me about that day.

The memory comes crashing down when my father’s booming voice demands, “Where have you been? Your room wasempty when we got home from dinner, and nobody knew where you were because your phone was off.”

I’d turned it off at the bar because I knew they’d put a tracking app on it. It was when Lincoln made me his offer for an escape that I’d made up my mind, and there was no going back from it. Not now.

Mrs. Ricci shakes her head from where she stands off to the side in the kitchen, silently urging me to keep quiet. She’d tried giving me momentary happiness, and I ruined it with my selfishness. Would she be reprimanded for my actions? I hoped not.

I’m startled when a large hand grips my face, jerking my head up at an angle that hurts my neck. “What did you do?” he growls.

I hadn’t had time to look at myself in the mirror when I’d snuck out of Lincoln’s bed this morning. All I wanted was to leave, knowing I couldn’t erase the soreness settled between my legs, or the memories my brain kept replaying of everything Lincoln had done to me. Everything his mouth and fingers and…otherparts had done to me. I wasn’t completely naive. I’d read enough romance books to know exactly what I was getting myself into when I agreed to go home with him, and I knew there would be consequences.

But I never expected my father to shake with rage so violently when I got here.

Guilt bottoms out in the pit of my stomach as Leani walks over and gasps, a hand dramatically flying to her mouth. “Is that ahickey?”

Mrs. Ricci makes a choked noise behind my stepmother as she watches my father examine my neck before dropping his hand.

“Georgia,” he says slowly, his voice so low that I feel my soul quaking. “What did you do?”

I try to speak, lips parting, but nothing able to come out. When my silence feeds the growing tension in the room, I swear the man in charge can smell it.

“Was it rape?” he asks plainly, those brown eyes nearly black as they find my face. “Tell me it was rape.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up when he says therword. After what feels like an eternity, I finally find my voice. “N-no, Daddy. It wasn’t.”

Leani closes her eyes, and so does Mrs. Ricci.

Quietly, I add, “It was my choice.”

If it’s possible, my father stands taller than he was before. His anger, the pure rage, radiates off of him and into me. “You let somebodydefileyou the night you learned you were to be engaged.”

It’s not a question and not one I plan to confirm. He must sense it. See the way I shift on my feet in feigned confidence. My hair could be out of place despite the way I finger-combed it in the Uber home. Lincoln had a firm grip on the strands many times last night, so God only knows how disheveled it still looks. Maybe everyone can smell the men’s cologne lingering on my clothes that had been discarded so recklessly around a foreign apartment not even twelve hours ago. Last night feels like a fever dream, but I know it isn’t when I see the judgmental expression on my father’s tight face.

“You little sl—” When he steps closer, I inch back, flinching when I see his hand rise until I hear, “Sir, don’t.”

Suddenly, Mrs. Ricci is there, stepping between me and the man who swings his hand in our direction.

He uses the back of his hand to slap the housekeeper across the face. The cracking sound is sickening, making me suck in a breath as the beloved employee holds her face from the harsh strike.

“I will deal with you later,” he informs her before turning back to me. “After all we’ve done for you, you whored yourself out to God only knows who. Antonio and Luca Carbone won’t want you now that you’ve tainted yourself. You haveno ideawhat you’ve just done.”

Whored myself? I’ve seen my father angry, but never like this. And I’ve never,neverheard him call me such ugly words.

“You ruined everything,” he growls, eyes darker than I’ve seen them before. There’s no color that humanizes him as his fists clench at his sides. “You have no idea what you just threw away, Georgia. I have done nothing but protect you, and you ruined it. Just like your mother.”

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