Page 19 of Broken Innocence
That’s how long I stay cooped up in my gilded cage. A wounded bird—orButterflylike Luca calls me—stuck in place. Not so much because the door barred me from escaping but because my bruised body couldn’t work up enough willpower to leave the room. Even my short jaunts to the small sitting area knocks the wind out of me.
So, I hung out with Beanie, Luca when he brought meals or settled down to watch another episode ofVelvet Rose, and occasionally Allison, who I learned also lived at the manor with one of the Blackchapel Bastards. My boss at the daycare reluctantly allowed me to use my PTO to cover the past weeks of absences, and the past two Sundays I called my parents like nothing was amiss. It implied an air of normalcy, except for the fact that I was stuck between two warring brothers, who also happened to helm dangerous criminal organizations.
“What do you think about running away?” I ask Beanie. She continues sunning herself beside the window with a plaintive meow. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. You’re firmly on Luca’s side.”
For some reason, my cat loves the man, despite being kidnapped from her very cozy and familiar home. We’re twocaptives, although one of us clearly has succumbed to Stockholm Syndrome already.
But I refuse to submit to our captor, no matter how beautiful his dark eyes are or how sexy his perpetual shadow of a beard is. This Belle won't fall for the Beast—even if it's highly likely he's got a massive library hidden in this mansion, based on the number of books he’s brought me.
What about when he's your husband?
“He’s probably lying,” I mutter to myself. No one's corroborated his story. Not that I've had much contact with the outside world to hear one way or another. But my parents haven’t mentioned a change in grooms—only that wedding preparations are continuing without a hitch. After a recent phone call with my parents, where I once-again left out my current circumstances, it became obvious they were still under the assumption that I’d be marrying Fabian in three days, not his illegitimate half-brother.
Which leaves me questioning the truth of Luca’s words.
Rolling to a sitting position on the side of the bed, I heave out a painful breath and clutch my side where a bruised rib has become the bane of my existence. This sharp twinge every time I move too much or breathe too deeply or freaking cough and sneeze is abitch.
I allow myself a moment for the tenderness to ease then push to my feet with another gasp. I’m on a mission, and sore ribs aren’t going to deter me—not anymore. My life is in confusing shambles at the moment, and it’s not going to sort itself out while I lay in bed.
A wide hallway decorated with Baroque pieces greets me once I shuffle to the bedroom door. Glancing left then right, neither direction bears a clue of which way leads to freedom and fresh air. Hobbling to the right, it takes forever before a wooden balustrade appears accompanying a set of curved stairs.
This place ispeakgothic romance.
It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that ghosts haunt the halls or that Luca and his brothers are secretly vampires. Even my presence fits the narrative—the damsel in distress—though it’d be more romantic if a flimsy white nightgown dragged across the plush rugs rather than the worn hem of my sweatpants.
Snorting at my silliness, I descend the stairs, imagining myself a bit like Jane Austen’s Catherine Moreland fromNorthanger Abbey—a young woman obsessed with gothic novels and the possibility of experiencing an extraordinary romance.
Too bad Luca doesn’t have an ounce of Mr. Tilney in him.
Although I don’t know Luca well, Mr. Tilney is a curate, a kind and funny man, whereas my captor is part of a group colloquially known as the Blackchapel Bastards. A name even I’ve heard of in my small corner of the world.
“Hey, you’re up! How are you feeling?” Allie bustles into the grand foyer with several shopping bags in her hands before shutting the massive front door. I catch a glimpse of the intricate metal knocker in the middle of the dark wood, confirming my previous gothic appraisal of the home.
“Bored,” I say, trying not to huff too loudly after the last step onto the marble floor. Those stairs are not a bruised rib’s best friend. “Ready to go home.”
Allie chuckles and nods in understanding. “Trust me, I understand exactly how you feel. When I first arrived at the manor, there were long stretches of playing video games with Rafe to stave off my brain melting from having nothing to do.”
She’d shared a little of how she came to Blackchapel Manor and fell for the eldest Blackchapel Bastard, Mathias Beaumont during one of her visits to my room.
“We’re surrounded by men with a penchant for kidnapping women,” I quip.
“To be fair, Luca didn’t seek you out like Mathias did me. You were thrown into his arms, and he decided to keep you.” Her smile alludes to a belief that it was a perfectly logical thing for him to do.
Keep a woman.
Said woman definitely should not feel a twinge of warmth at being extraordinary enough to keep.
Gah, curse you, Catherine Moreland!
“I’m grateful for how he’s helped me, but I’m much better now.” My steps echo in the air as I follow Allie down the hall into a bright craft room surrounded by walls of ribbons, paper, and other creative supplies. It’s the only modern space I’ve seen so far.
She drops her bags on an empty table and rolls her shoulders. “I know… But it doesn’t make much sense to go home when you’ll be his wife and move back into the manor three days from now, does it?”
“I’m highly suspicious there will even be a wedding. Don D’Amora hasn’t said anything to me or my parents about a change in groom, and if everything stays the same, there’s no way I’m marrying Fabian. Not after what he arranged to be done to me.” A shudder wracks my body at the memory of his thugs’ attack.
“I’m so sorry you had to endure that.” Allie reaches out to squeeze my arm in comfort. “Know that Mathias and his brothers take revenge very seriously, especially when it comes to men who harm women.”
“Luca mentioned something about revenge against their dads. What’s that about?” I haven’t thought much about that bit of information since he first explained his connection to Fabian and the don, but now it’s relevant.
