Page 2 of Cinder
Three monthslater
I stareout the window and watch the sun sink deeper into the ocean. It bleeds colors of orange and gold into a spectacular sunset. But I can’t feel its vast beauty because my mind is caught in a time when life was good. Back when I was free. When my father was still alive and my ruthless brother wasn’t the don of the Moretti Empire.
But those days are gone.
For the last two days I’ve been locked in my room for talking back to my brother and embarrassing him in front of his men. He says my smart mouth will be my demise, but he’swrong. My mouth won’t be the cause of my demise.He will be.Luca Moretti. My half-brother.Cold hearted monster.
My gaze drops to the sleek, black Bentley parked in the driveway, one of my father’s, and with deep disgust coursing in my veins I watch my brother climb into it.
I stay perfectly still until it disappears down the driveway and out of view.
Then I move like a bolt of lightning.
I quickly cross my bedroom to the fake panel beside my bed and push on it.
The false door opens, and a cool breeze enters the room from the secret passageway. I don’t waste any time. I step into the dimly lit corridor and pull the door closed behind me before hurriedly making my way down a small flight of stairs and along a tight passage.
When I reach another secret door, I nudge it with my shoulder and my sister’s room opens up before me.
Lucretia is at her dressing table with one of her many journals in front of her. Her back is to me, but she feels the brush of cool air from the secret door and turns, a big smile spreading across her lovely face.
She runs to me and hugs me tight. “I didn’t know if you would come. I heard him yelling. I didn’t know what to do.”
“You don’t do anything, okay? Until I say otherwise, you just keep doing everything as usual. No matter what you hear.” I hold her at arm’s length so I can see if she understands. “Tell me you understand.”
She nods. “He’s so mean. He’s not a very good person. When can we leave?”
“I’m working on a plan. But you can’t say anything.”
“I won’t. I don’t talk to anyone anyway.”
My gaze drifts to her books. “And don’t write anything down. Only your stories. Don’t mention my visits or about me trying to figure out a way for us to escape.”
She raises an eyebrow at me. “I’m not an idiot.”
I smile and run a gentle hand down her arm. “No, you’re not.”
When Lucretia was fifteen, she and our mom were running errands together in town when a stranger approached them on the sidewalk. When the stranger got close enough, he shot my mother five times in the chest.
Still clutching my sister’s hand, she fell to the sidewalk and died.
Lucretia hasn’t been the same since. Almost two years later, she’s locked in her own world. A place of fairytales and make believe, where the darkness of reality can’t touch her.
My mom’s death was a warning to my father.We can get to your loved ones anytime we like.
In response, he waged a bloody war against those responsible and he didn’t stop until they were defeated.
Every last one of them.
But that’s the thing about being the head of one of thebiggest crime syndicates in the country. You knock down one enemy and a new one appears in its place.
It’s what made him overprotective and why he raised his daughters with so much security it was stifling. Bodyguards. Armored cars. Home schooling. Secret boarding schools.
“What are we reading tonight?” I ask Lucretia brightly.
When Luca leaves the house every evening and I see him disappear down the driveway in our father’s car, I escape through the secret passageway to visit my sister just so I can read to her. Because it helps to calm her anxiety and keep the nightmares at bay.
To be honest, it’s calming for the both of us. It reminds me of the days long ago when my mom would read to me. How she would tuck me into bed, and I would fall asleep listening to her beautiful voice. It’s what I miss about her the most. Her voice. And how every word she spoke was spoken with love.
