Page 37 of Massimo

"Wh-what?"

His hands tighten. "My reputation as a monster, who does gruesome deeds when he allows himself to get his hands dirty, will become a legend after I'm through with your father."

He's just saying this. He's trying to fool me like he thought I was hiding and fooling him. He's flipped the tables on me, trying to make me believe he cares—that he gives a shit when no one else in my life except my mother has.

Besides what happened with my mother, this is probably the cruelest lesson.

If I trust him, I fail, and he wins.

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

But I have to fight. I have to fight from falling under Massimo's spell and trusting him. I can't let myself be fooled by him.

He kidnapped me. He hates all Mancinis. Not even twenty-four hours ago, I was locked in a cold basement room because he was sure I was as vile, venomous, and deceptive as my father.

That doesn't just disappear in a blink.

He must think I'm a goddamn idiot on top of being a pawn and a tool.

The hard-learned lessons from my father have taught me how to protect myself. However, Massimo seemed to see through my shields that no one else had—he saw that I was hiding my true thoughts and nature from the moment we met. So, if I pretend that I'm starting to trust him, would he see through that, too?

But that's my only option.

"Well, don't go to any trouble on my behalf."

"Princess." His thumb lightly skates along my jaw. "It will be my pleasure."

My body sags in exhaustion from hardly sleeping for days and from the thought of Massimo ridding the world of my father.

I can see Massimo's resolve and intention that Silvestro Mancini's days are numbered. But I don’t fool myself into thinking it has anything to do with me.

He pushes my tangled hair from my face. "What do you need to sleep, princess?"

I look away from his all-too-seeing eyes.

"Nova… I don't think it will ever be enough, but I'm so fucking sorry for how I treated you."

Locking me in a room and making me strip was on him. However, the room wasn't as terrible as the one in my home. This one wasn't overly cold, and it was clean. In my basement, the cell was filthy with dirt, rotten food, and blood, and I refused to think about what else. The starving and dehydrating myself was on me and my learned response from my father.

As soon as Massimo clued into that, he took me out of that room, rehydrated me, and ensured I ate.

No. Stop. I won't fall for his trickery.

But I won't fight him, either. I'll make him believe that I'm slowly starting to trust him. It can't happen too quickly, though, or he'll see right through it.

I turn back to him, trying to read him as hard as he's trying to read me. Deciding to give him a truth and taking a chance that he won't use this against me, I say, "I need a bit of light to sleep."

A small sound comes from him, and if I didn't know better, I'd say it sounded pained.

"Your father… Did he lock you in the dark? Was that one of your hard-learned lessons?"

I stare at him, wondering about that specific description and how he knows. Then it clicks that I must've said something in my slightly delirious state before I passed out.

"No," I lie. "I've just always needed a light, ever since my mother died."

That's mostly the truth.

He studies me for a while longer, then untangles his legs from around me, and stands. Without him, I feel cold and empty; I quickly ignore that thought.

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