Page 11 of Blood and Lies (A Twisted Duet 1)

I recognized that voice.

“What the hell is going on?” My voice sounded shaky between my tears as I searched around the room.

“I bet that tiny little mind of yours is spinning out of control right now, trying to figure out whose finger is laying on the floor.”

I got off the bed and walked backward toward the wall, still searching the room.

“You recognize the ring, don’t you?”

I glanced up at the roof. “What kind of twisted fucking game are you people playing?”

“It’s a game called cat and mouse.”

“And you think I’m the mouse?”

“By the way your body is shivering against that wall, your fear vibrating through every bone…I’d say yes, you are.”

I closed my eyes and turned my head to the side, cursing my own damn weakness. Nothing was as insulting as being seen and insinuated as weak. For most of my life, everyone thought and saw me as weak because of what I did.

“So tell me, little mouse, do you recognize the ring?”

Gathering all my courage, I pushed off the wall and glanced from corner to corner of the room, knowing I was being watched. “Yes, I recognize the ring, you fucking psycho!”

“Good.”

And then the loud sound of air escaping a tube resonated from the wall, and I lurched back, pushing myself against the cold concrete. Suddenly, I regretted insulting that familiar voice.

The door finally opened and revealed the same man I met earlier. The sight of him made my heart ache and my body tremble at the same damn time. It was because he looked so much likehim,reminding me of what I’d lost, making me long for someone I was now led to believe was dead.Carlo…

Castello stepped in, looking both bold and debonair in his black suit. His midnight hair was perfectly styled just like before, his chiseled jaw painted with a short, well-groomed beard. Everything about him screamed sophistication, power, and with his dark eyes etched on me…hate. I couldn’t miss the darkness that lay hidden behind that perfect face…a face I knew so well yet didn’t.

He straightened his shirt sleeves beneath his jacket. “Did you like my gift, Miss Linscott?”

“Is that what you call it?”

He smirked. “What would you call it?”

“I don’t know. A token, a memento of torture, or murder.” The words left a bitter taste in my mouth, and the way his smirk remained on his face, he wasn’t fazed one little bit by the fact that I just insinuated he was a murderer…because he probablywasa murderer.

He stepped closer, and I tried to move back, but my body was already flush against the wall.

“I’m afraid our conversation earlier didn’t go quite as I had planned. So let’s try again, shall we?” He stopped about two feet away, and his scent instantly enveloped me. For some reason, I expected him to have the same black pepper, spicy scent Carlo used to have, the same smell that used to linger on my sheets after he left in the morning—which was probably why I was caught off guard when I caught a whiff of Castello’s unfamiliar scent. It smelled like a mix of amber, peppermint, and some earthy smell, like cedarwood. The scent would have been good, even alluring, if it weren’t so tainted with the evil reeking from his pores.

Not once did I take my eyes off him, mostly because I couldn’t. The resemblance between him and Carlo was astonishing. It was like he was there, Carlo, standing two feet away and staring at me with his dark eyes. The only difference, there was a hatred in Castello’s eyes as he stared at me, a red hot rage burning like a threat behind those dark irises. It sent a chill straight to my core.

I swallowed hard. “What exactly about our conversation didn’t go as you had planned?”

He tilted his head to the side, his scrutinizing gaze pinning me harder against the wall. “I didn’t expect lies to spurt out of your mouth so easily.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What lies?”

“The lies about not knowing that Carlo had a brother…me.”

“I didn’t know.”

He stepped closer, his tall frame casting a shadow over me. “And the lie about him supposedly pretending not to be a Fattore.”

“That’s not a lie, either. He didn’tsupposedlypretend; hedidpretend. He told me his name was Carlo Mancini.”

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