Page 6 of Hunted Vengeance

My life has been nothing but moments of things that have happened to me. Only twice did I attempt to take my life into my own hands, and both times, they backfired. So, I’ve become a silent participant in my own life.

Obviously, that is not working out in my favor, either.

Honestly, I would rather just be on the sidelines.

I wish he would just let me exist in the shadows and forget about me as a whole.

I tried marriage, and it wasn’t something that I was good at, apparently, because I’m back here in my father’s home and not with my husband. I would rather watch the world around me than participate in it from now on.

I think that plastering myself to a wall and observing life would be better than being active in it at this point.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I move the skin back and forth a few times as I try not to respond to my father. He doesn’t like being questioned or even looked at inquiringly. What Adriano says is what happens, and that is the way it is.

“The marriage will be annulled before the new ceremony. This will be for the better, Colette, and he doesn’t mind that you’re not a virgin. He prefers it, actually.”

My eyes widen, a reaction that I cannot contain quickly enough. He sees it, and I watch as his own expression darkens instantly. Sucking in a breath, I take a half step backward. He stands so rapidly and moves toward me that I can’t even think fast enough to run away.

Before I realize what’s happening, his fingers are curled around the front of my throat as he walks me backward, my head slamming against the wall behind me and bouncing once. My father’s angry gaze meets mine, his lips curled up and snarling before he speaks.

I don’t gasp or show any reaction because I know it would just spur him on. He would like it too much. Instead, I stare at him, waiting for him to kill me and get it over with already. It would make everything a hell of a lot easier.

I’m not really doing anything with my life other than sitting around and waiting to be told where to go and what to do, anyway. It’s a miserable existence, and the few months of freedom I had solidified just how damn horrible my life is with my father.

“You will do what is required of you, Colette,” he snaps. “The man you are to marry will be a better benefit to the family. You will give him what he wants.”

“Yes,” I rasp.

I don’t bother asking him why my actual husband wasn’t going to benefit the family enough in the long run. He wouldn’t tell me anyway. Instead, I wait for him to finish his intimidating tactics. Only when he feels as though he’s made his point clear does he release me and take a step backward.

Lowering my gaze to the floor in an attempt to show my submission, I wait for him to finish whatever it is he wants to finish saying so that I can be dismissed to my room. It's the only place I can breathe, if only slightly.

“The man has promised a great deal to the family. He is somewhat of a politician and well respected, though I’m not sure why because he is anything but a good man. You’ll do whatever he wants. He is going to do wonderful things for me.”

There it is.

He is going to do extraordinary things for Adriano Bellucci, the only person he cares about in this whole world—himself.

I nod once, but my father makes a tsking sound. I know what he wants. He wants my verbal compliance. I don’t want to give it to him, but I know that if I don’t, he’ll force it out of me. Being choked once in a day is enough for me, so I give him what he desires.

“Whatever he wants,” I rasp.

“Good,” he grunts. “Now get the fuck outta my office. I can’t stand the sight of you.”

His words don’t affect me the way they used to. There was a time when his saying those words would have made me cry. Not anymore. I would have to feel something for him to allow him to hurt me, and the only emotion I feel for this man is disdain.

Turning from him, I walk toward the door, where I know his man is standing on the other side and has likely listened intently to every word he said to me. Reaching for the knob, I wrap my fingers around it and start to turn when my father calls out my name.

“Colette.”

Turning my head, I look over my shoulder back at him. His dark gaze finds mine, and I know that whatever he is going to say next is aimed at maiming me. I brace myself, holding my breath before he speaks.

“You look exactly like your whore mother.”

And there it is.

Another cut at me. It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing left of me anyway. My father has sliced every damn part of my body with his words. This is just something else he enjoys saying. He loves reminding me not only how horrible my mother was but also that he’s the one who got rid of her.

Instead of responding, I turn my head around, face the door, and tug it open. Marcello is exactly where I thought he would be, standing beside the door, having no doubt listened to every word my father said.

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