“Try to eat something,” he urges, his words lacking their usual bite. “You’ll need your strength.”
But strength for what? To endure more of Leone’s twisted games? Or maybe to plot my escape from this nightmare. For now, I simply nod. Defiance isn’t an option—yet. But once I find a way out, I swear, I’ll take Leone’s empire down with me.
Six
Leone
I stride down the dimly lit corridor, the sound of my steps a steady beat against the cold stone floor. Two weeks—fourteen days that feel like both an eternity and a heartbeat. Each visit to Fallon’s room is the same; no fight remains, only a vacant stare which chills me more than I care to admit.
“Maria says you’re due for your cycle,” I murmur as I enter the room where Fallon lies on the bed, staring through me with those deep green eyes which once burned with fierce determination. Now, there’s only emptiness. “The moment you miss it, we’ll know.”
Her silence cuts deep. I can’t tell if it’s satisfaction or disgust simmering within me as I approach her. In the dark, I claim her body, forcing my seed into her daily. I search her gaze for any sign of life. But she’s gone, retreated somewhere I can’t follow, leaving me with a hollow victory.
I pat the bed, gesturing for her to move down, and it’s almost as if she doesn’t hear me. Shaking my head, I grip her ankles and yank her closer.
“I want to shower. I stink,” she murmurs. I ignore her, forcing her legs apart as I insert the turkey baster inside her. Checking my watch, this routine is becoming all too familiar. At least she’s stopped fighting.
“I want to shower, Leone,” she repeats, her voice steady. “I want to speak to my father,” she whispers, her words barely audible.
“I’ll think about it,” I say. “Only if you eat. Maria told me you didn’t eat yesterday again.” She ignores me as she often does.
“Starving yourself won’t work. I’ll force a tube down your throat and funnel food into you if necessary. Eat, and I’ll let you shower.”
“My father?” she asks, glancing at me. For the first time in a week, there’s a flicker of hope in her eyes. She’s testing me, trying to figure out if I killed him after the night Marcel died. Sienna’s father will come for her in two months, but I’ve dealt with the fallout from Marcel’s death. His assets are dissolved, and after a few phone calls, he no longer exists. Publicly, rumors say he fled the country due to the allegations we spun about his involvement in trafficking. Not false, just conveniently timed. Now, the papers focus on those caught in Marcel’s web, leaving me untouched. I’m just a casino owner, a businessman to the city.
Instead of answering her, I leave when the door beeps. Maria enters with Fallon’s dinner. I step aside, letting her pass.
“No cutlery,” I tell Maria, and her shoulders tense.
“I’ll wait with her. Fallon won’t hurt me. Will you, bella?” Maria asks in English, a language she dislikes speaking but uses for Fallon’s sake.
I press my lips together and shake my head. Maria sighs, muttering as she takes the cutlery. Fallon stares at the huge steak, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables piled high on her plate.
Once Maria leaves, I lock the door and follow her upstairs. Reluctantly, I pause. I need to head to work but also make sure Fallon eats. I walk to the surveillance room, unsurprised to find Milo glaring at the screen, watching her.
He doesn’t acknowledge me. I grab the mouse and move the camera. She watches as it shifts, seeing only the blinking light, but I see everything. Her fingers feel across the bed until they find the plate, which she drags onto her lap.
“You treat her like a farm animal,” Milo says, unable to watch as Fallon picks up the T-bone steak, feeling for the bone before tearing into it with her teeth. It’s as if the food is tasteless. Maria’s cooking is never bland, but Fallon grabs handfuls of mashed potatoes, stuffing them into her mouth, making a mess of herself and the bed. I drop into the chair and lean back.
“How long do you intend to punish her?” Milo asks. I turn to him. “You know some things you can’t come back from.”
I clench my jaw. “You’re acting like I’ve raped and beaten her.”
“Haven’t you?” he says, rising as I do.
“Choose your next words wisely, Milo. I’m at my wit’s end with you.”
“She was supposed to be ours, and I have no say in anything. You won’t even let me see her.”
“Because you’re weak when it comes to her,” I sneer.
“And you’re a fucking coward,” Milo snaps. “You’re exactly like your father.”
I see red. My hands wrap around his throat, shoving him against the wall. He laughs.
“You wouldn’t feel offended if what I said wasn’t true,” Milo says, holding my gaze. “You hate your mother, blame her for not protecting you. But from what I know, she was in the same situation as Fallon. The only difference is your father used hiscock,” Milo spits, shoving me off. My breath comes hard and sharp as he tries to pass.
“She made a fucking deal. She knew what she was getting into the moment she crossed me.”