I'm guessing this is some sort of safe room, likely meant for emergencies, like a home invasion. The monitor displaying the Don's office makes sense in that context—if he were taking refuge in here, it would give him eyes and ears for what's happening out there. But Massimo doesn't seem like the type to hide from his enemies. No, he would march out and face them head-on.
Regardless of the room's purpose, I knew I shouldn't have eavesdropped.
"And why would I want that snake's spawn?"
Those were Massimo's words. Cold, detached.
Told you he was a monster.
More hurt and betrayal seeps through me, and harsh, reprimanding words replay in my head: gullible, idiot, stupid, fool, weak.
I watch Massimo have a drink with Gabe and Vito. As much as I'm angry for being forgotten about and locked in here, it's strangely fascinating to watch.
My brothers never acted that way toward one another, far from it: Paulo and Emilio hated one another, having been pitted against eachother their whole lives by our father. But with Massimo and Vito, there's love and respect there. Loyalty. A bond that can't be forced or commanded because your subordinates fear you.
Massimo is an entirely different breed compared to my father.
But he's still a monster, I remind myself repeatedly. I'm just a pawn and tool for him to use against my father.
When Vito says goodnight and Gabe walks out of the office with him, I scramble to turn off the monitor, not wanting Massimo to know I overheard their conversation. I grab a book off the shelf and sit quickly on the sofa, pretending to read when he opens the door.
"Princess."
I slowly look up, trying to keep my walls up and my emotions off my face.
"I'm sorry that took so long." He holds out his hand to me, seeming more like a question rather than a command. His dark eyes are soft as he watches me.
The most dangerous monsters are the ones that make you think they’re your savior, not your destroyer.
I blink as I stare at his hand.
"Nova?"
I'm in Massimo's territory where he's king and I'm his captive. Of course, a man like him wouldn't give me any control or power—and I was delusional to feel like I had any.
Him taking me out of the room in the basement was just a ploy to trick me into thinking he cared.
I didn't give him what he wanted or expected with how I acted in the cell, so like a good villain, he pivoted and tried a new tactic.
And like the gullible fool I was, I had easily fallen for it. The broken, psychologically damaged princess had caved—quickly forgetting all her hard-learned lessons—and fell into the well-played trap.
"Nova?" Massimo steps toward me.
I force myself to meet his questioning gaze with a small smile. "Sorry, I'm just tired."
The meek, obedient princess won't do—I already know Massimo sees through that—but like him, I can pivot and try new tactics.
I might be a pawn and tool for Massimo to use against my father, but I can use him, too as a tool for helping fight against my father's control over me.
As Massimo and I stare at each other—across the room where I was cruelly reminded that he's just another monster in my world—a plan starts to form in my mind. It may not be a well-thought out plan, but it's a plan, nonetheless.
For years, I've been told that my virginity is precious and valuable to my father, a bargaining chip to secure an alliance fit for a king. If that's gone, I'll be useless to him. Sure, he'll be livid, and I may not survive the consequences, but at least I'll go out having taken a swing at Silvestro Mancini. The meek, demure Mancini Princess is no more.
Or maybe Massimo will destroy my father and his vile empire. Either way, the outcome is the same: I can take a stand against my father and enjoy myself while doing so.
I decide for myself.
I'm losing my virginity, and Massimo Santoro is going to take it.