Page 10 of Massimo

"Turn up the heat, Gabe," Gemma orders, making Massimo scoff. "Do it, Gabrielle Ricci."

My head lifts hearing that last name, and my brow pulls together.

Gemma looks back at me, biting her lip, and her cheeks turn pink.

Gabe sees us looking at each other when he adjusts the heat. "What?"

Massimo's eyes are drilling into the side of my face. I bow my head again, wanting to be away from his searing, hate-filled gaze more than anything.

"Um…" Gemma pauses and then laughs. "I used your last name when I met Nova, Gabe."

Based on his quiet inhalation, I'd say there's something up between Gemma and him. But I'm not here to be enthralled in the mafia-styled version ofDays Of Our Lives.

I keep quiet as we drive. I want to study and watch where we're going, but I know there will be no way to escape—a man like Massimo would ensure that. The tiny spark of fire and fight I try to keep dim within me wants to flare up and push back, to at least try to find a way to escape, but I quickly smother it.

Because the lesson from my mother's experience when she tried to escape with me has scarred me too deeply. If my father did that to his wife, what would a monster like Massimo do to someone he hates?

Something far worse.

I try to suppress thinking about all the worse things that could be done to me that I haven't already lived through.

Given the size difference between Massimo and me, I wouldn't stand a chance against him physically.

Or rape…

Dear Lord…

Is Massimo that kind of monster?

I don't know, and I don't want to find out.

I must remember every lesson my father taught me through his years of psychological abuse and torment.

Don't speak unless spoken to.

Only eat when told to.

Look the part of the perfect princess, always.

Forget your wants and needs; you're only here to serve your master.

I continue going through the list of the horrible lessons in my head until the car slows. I open my eyes, not realizing I closed them. My nailsare cutting into my palm and faint lines of blood are present when I open my hand. While I was forcing myself to re-live all my hard-learned lessons, it had taken a toll on me.

I swallow against the lump in my throat and steal a glance at Massimo. He's openly staring at me. The look is dark and menacing, but his brow is furrowed.

I quickly turn away and look out the window. We're pulling up to massive iron gates, set in a high stone wall that looks impenetrable.

My breath catches, and terror rises within me as I look at the guards.

Guards are a given in my world; and it's not them per se that is causing my terror. It's how they're dressed—like they're soldiers ready for combat, wearing fatigues with their weapons visible. My guards always wear suits and look like made men. It's guards like Massimo's that trigger me—because that's how the guards were dressed when they beat my mother to death.

I swallow down my terror and push the memories of my mother's screams away as the car pulls through the gates. A slamming of a prison door echoes in my mind. If I wasn't before, I'm fully inside Massimo's world and control now.

My father's words from his most potent lesson echo in an endless loop.

"Don't fight the monsters, princess. Because the monsters always win."

Chapter 5

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