Page 105 of Brutal Legacy

Ten minutes later,we pulled up at a tall, swanky apartment building overlooking the harbor.

“Where is this?” I wondered when the car stopped outside, and the driver got out.

“I told you we were going home… not to Casa Nera.”

“Wait, Casa Nera isn’t home?” I asked, eagerly following Elio out of the car.

He stood on the pavement and waited for me.

“It is to Renato… but not to me, and not for us. This will be our home, for now.” He inclined his head toward the huge glass apartment building.

I couldn’t fight my relief when we got into the elevator. Elio pressed his finger against a sensor, and a chime sounded.

“You didn’t even press the floor button,” I pointed out.

“It’s programmed to my fingerprint. No one unauthorized can access the floor.”

“Which floor?” I asked. The glass elevator shot upward, carrying us higher and higher. “The penthouse?”

“Only the best for the new Mrs. Santori,” Elio stated flatly.

“Very funny,” I said, but I couldn’t deny I was happy not to be going back to Casa Nera.

The elevator opened into a sleek dark hallway. Guards stood on either side of an impressively fortified door.

“Sir.” Both men saluted Elio with tight precision.

Elio saluted them back.

“Does Renato know you have your own private army?” I asked as the locks disengaged on the vault-like door.

“Well, I am the mercenary, after all,” Elio murmured and ushered me in.

Once we were inside, the men locked the door behind us.

“You don’t have any security actually inside?”

“I don’t need security inside,” he said, leading me down the hallway to the huge open-plan living room.

Night had fallen. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the Atlantic City marina, neon skyscrapers reflected endlessly on the black water.

“So confident.”

“No. Just experienced.” Elio turned down another hall. “Let me show you to your room.”

My room.

“Wow, this hostage is moving up in the world. I’ve got my own room and everything.”

I followed behind him until we came to a door. He pushed it open and waited for me to enter.

It didn’t look like the rest of the penthouse, from what I’d seen so far. This room was warm and inviting. Pale sage walls and dark wood surrounded a wrought-iron bed. The covers were terra-cotta and cream linen, and a thick wool blanket was tossed across the end.Wait. Sage?I glanced around the walls. The silence felt too thick as I met Elio’s eyes.One day I want to paint our bedroom sage green… it makes me feel safe.My childish optimism and confidence felt like mocking as the memory hit me. My favorite color… the same color as Elio’s eyes. Why’d he paint the room this color?

How long had he been planning on finding me and keeping me here, in the room next to his… his prisoner… his hostage… his wife.

What really happened to you?I wanted to ask, but I was scared to.Tell me about the years I’ve missed… because something terrible enough happened that the boy with laughing eyes and a silver tongue became hard and cold… and yet still remembered the color I wanted to paint our bedroom one day.

My heart softened. I watched him. His face gave nothing away about the simple gesture, but the way he avoided my eyes, it was clear. We both knew it meant something. That something was making my chest feel fuzzy.

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