Page 56 of A Beautiful Crime

“No,” I answer for him and Giuseppe sends me a look of gratitude. “He was only saying goodbye.”

Luca scoffs, the sentiment of goodbyes long lost to him. A foreign language he can’t understand. He smooths down his tie with his lean fingers. Fingers that have been stained far more in life than they have ever been clean.

“It’s rude to keep a man waiting, Carina.” My name is spoken with disdain. I can’t recall a time where Luca ever said it fondly.

“Forgive me,” I say all too coolly, still cautious of my tone after all the months of his and papa’s conditioning. “I’m sure mycaptorcan wait a moment or two as I gather my belongings.”

I get the reaction I want as Luca’s nostrils flare and his cheeks blossom red. Through terse lips he replies stiffly, “He isn’t your captor, Carina.”

I arch a cool brow at him. “Then what would you call it, Luca? I’m rather curious to know.”

He takes a menacing step forward and Giuseppe takes a direct step in front of me, blocking me from Luca’s path.

Luca comes to a halt, his eyes throwing daggers at Giuseppe. And yet with perspiration beading at the nape of his neck Giuseppe stands tall and firm.

The only man who has ever tried to be my white knight in a castle filled with wolves.

You see, this is why I can’t sacrifice his soul. A pure heart as his and a soul filled with light deserves to stay shining. For he will cast a light even in the darkest of corners and renew hope to a lost soul.

I rise from the bed, deviating my brother’s course on Giuseppe back to me.

“He will be your husband, Carina. This union will bring us power. And you will do your part. You will obey him. And you will warm his cock however he fucking pleases.” Giuseppe flinches from his profanity and vulgarity.

His words, as lashing as they are, are nothing compared to his real lashings.

“I’m not a whore, Luca. Nor am I a sex doll.”

Luca’s smile is twisted and sadistic. Much more different than Constantine’s dark and wicked.

And it begs the question, if Constantine is supposed to be The Devil of the East Coast, why do I fear the man before me more than the one I am forced to marry?

He sidesteps easily around Giuseppe, chucking his shoulder as he passes by, and leans down until his face is seething in front of mine.

His hands then whip out at the speed of light and encase my throat. His thumbs apply pressure to my carotid arteries, slowly cutting the blood supply to my brain. As his pressure increases I can feel the blood draining from my face and my head growing light.

Yet, still, I stand with my eyes unwavering and cold on his.

My insides might be trembling with fear only he can evoke but I do my damned best not to let it show.

“Mr. Fiore-” Giuseppe tries to intervene but Luca’s eyes slice over to his and whatever he sees in them has him paralyzed in fear.

Fear and pain, it’s what Luca does best.

“Leave, Giuseppe. Or so help me God I will fucking kill you,” he threatens malevolently.

My lungs begin to burn as they try to inhale air through my nostrils. Black spots dance before my eyes as everything becomes a blur.

Giuseppe swallows, taking a step closer to me. Luca retaliates by applying more pressure. And as my eyes bulge, water building at the rim, I manage to slightly nod my head, and only then does he retreat.

I hear the door softly shut and when it does Luca then releases the pressure on my throat, allowing me a moment of reprieve.

I make the rookie mistake of drawing in a large breath of air. Immediately my lungs burn, as if I swallowed smoke, and it causes me to choke.

I almost keel over, not being able to catch my breath, but somehow I remain standing.

The rock amongst the strong tides.

“Who do you think you are to deny orders, Carina?” Luca is seething. His cheeks are flushed and his fingers, the same fingers that were wrapped around my throat, are slightly twitching against his outer thigh.

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