Page 25 of Of Grief And Gratitude

“I was having lunch at Angelo’s yesterday when I heard him yell at one of the waitresses. He made her cry.” Cosimo grunted. “I didn’t like that.”

He said it like the perfectly logical conclusion to making a woman cry was kidnapping, torture, and death. If the man hanging from the chains hadn’t figured it out, he soon would—few ever made it out of Cosimo’s dungeon still breathing.

His bare torso was a mottled canvas of black and blue, and judging by his raspy breathing, he had a broken rib or two. Cosimo took his knife and slowly ran it down the man’s chest, leaving a shallow cut behind, blood dripping from the line. Duct tape covered the man’s mouth, muffling his desperate cries. He looked at me, his eyes pleading with me to help, but I shook my head and grinned.

“Keep talking,” Cosimo demanded as he drew line after line with the knife.

“Father walked in while Mamma was gushing about Riona and told her it wasn’t true.” I remembered how my mother’s face fell. “I couldn’t let him ruin her happiness, so I doubled down. He called Riona and invited her to dinner tomorrow, and she doesn’t know about any of it.”

“That might be a problem,” he muttered, circling the crying man. Cosimo began anew on his back, and the man started to shake from fear, pain, or shock. “You want to take some frustration out?”

He held his knife out to me, but I shook my head. “No, I’m good. I just don’t know what the fuck to do about Riona.”

“Sounds like you need her to play along.” Cosimo made it all sound simple, but he hadn’t seen Riona’s face when she left my place the other night. He didn’t get her ominous we need to talk text message.

I sighed, backing up until my butt hit the edge of the metal table against the wall. Cosimo used it to strap people down when suspension didn’t suit his needs. “She’ll never go for it.”

“So make her.” Just once, I’d like to see my brother elaborate on whatever ideas he had floating around in his mind. “People become very agreeable when you use the right motivation. Isn’t that right, Stuart?”

The man nodded frantically, mumbling something through the tape. Cosimo clucked his tongue and cut a little deeper. Stuart shrieked, and a piece of flesh hit the tarp next to his foot.

“Oops, I slipped,” Cosimo said with a shrug. When his prisoner cried harder, my brother patted him on the back. “Don’t worry, Stuart. You won’t need that anymore.”

It wouldn’t be long until the blood lust took Cosimo to a place I didn’t want to witness. He became a different person when he was working.

“Do you have any ideas for me?” I asked, perhaps foolishly. “How would you motivate a woman who is hesitant to do what you want?”

“I’d put my hand around her neck and squeeze until her eyes rolled back and her panties were soaked,” he practically purred, slicing off another chunk of skin. He was carving the man up like one of those restaurants where they served meat on sticks.

He wasn’t going to be any help. I’d have to hope for the best. Maybe I could get in touch with Riona before dinner tomorrow. I crept toward the door to ensure I didn’t startle Cosimo. He’d thrown a blade at family members a time or two.

“Thanks for your help,” I called out. “Will you come to dinner tomorrow?”

“If I’m not otherwise occupied,” he said absently. “Check your clothes for blood before you leave. If you need a change, grab some sweats from the lockers.”

I reached up and took a UV light from the top of the lockers, flicking it on and scanning my polo shirt and slacks. I’d been standing far enough back that nothing had reached my clothing. Satisfied I was clean, I left the dungeon with a quiet click of the door behind me, the lock automatically engaging as a safety measure. Nobody would forget to lock the door and allow a prisoner to escape.

There was little chance that a little autoerotic asphyxiation would make Riona agree to be my fake girlfriend for my family dinner. She probably wouldn’t let me get close enough to dick her down to convince her, either.

Instead, I dialed her number, hoping she might be willing to listen to reason. I chuckled to myself ruefully. There wasn’t much logic behind my desperate desire to give my mother something good in her life.

Riona didn’t pick up. Fuck.

I stood in the entry of my parents’ home after I’d sent my father’s men away, anxiously pacing and straining to hear any approaching vehicle. Riona hadn’t returned my calls or texts yesterday, and my mother had spent all afternoon preparing a meal to welcome Riona to the family. I’d reached a new level of determination, willing to do almost anything to ensure she didn’t upset my mother by denying our supposed relationship. It had been so long since I’d seen my mother happy enough to sing while she bustled about the kitchen.

As obsessed as my father was with his demand that all his children marry and produce offspring, Mamma was just as invested in us all finding love that would last a lifetime. She’d been ecstatic when Niccolò married Mia, and she couldn’t wait until they filled their new home with children. Even though Bianca didn’t come home often, our mother sent boxes of gifts for little Ilaria and learned how to make a video call so she could try to teach the infant Italian.

When I’d arrived this evening, she’d kissed me and praised me for finally finding somebody I could be myself around. I didn’t know what the hell she meant, but I smiled and nodded like a good son.

The sound of a car motor outside spurred me into action, and I carefully opened the door and waited as Riona stepped out of Sean O’Connor’s car. He stared at me through the passenger window, pointing a single finger at me in warning. I shook my head at his theatrics. He waited until Riona reached the door to drive away, and I quickly pulled Riona inside and pressed a finger to her lips as she tried to speak.

“Shh,” I hissed quietly. “Don’t say anything. Just listen.”

“What—”

I pressed my finger more firmly against her lips. “You’re not very good at following instructions for someone who gets to tell others how to act for a living. I assume you’ve seen the news coverage.”

Riona nodded once, her brows furrowing.

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