Page 18 of Wicked Knight 2

“That’s a good girl.” He let me go, then gripped my elbow.

“I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry. He’s in good hands.” She smiled at me as if we were friends.

Just fucking great. She figured out a way to keep the wedding from happening without risking Papa’s wrath for helping me escape. Why did she change her mind?

“Belinda, please. Help me.” I begged one last time before Tore escorted me out of the room.

Last night when I was brought here, the courtyard was dark and empty. But this morning, it was full of life and laughter. Of course, as soon as they all saw me, the party stopped. Men and women, and even some kids, gawked at me like I was a three-headed monster. They were the monsters, not me.

“She’s so pretty.” A little boy hiding behind his mother waved at me.

“Do all these people live here?” I asked Tore while trying my best to keep up with his fast pace. Getting dragged by the elbow was so humiliating. “Why are they staring at me?”

“You ask too many questions. Ivan warned me you were a chatterbox.” He grumbled. After a while, he said, “Not all of them.”

“What?”

“Not all of them live here.”

“Oh. Do they know who I am?” Seriously, they were looking at me like I was some lost princess. They had to know I’d been kidnapped.

“You’re Papa’s favorite son’s new bride.” He pulled me toward the opposite end of the courtyard and into a dark and damp corridor I knew well.

I wasn’t anyone’s fucking bride—new or otherwise. I took in a breath. Losing my shit in front of all these people couldn’t be the best strategy, even if at this particular moment I didn’t have one.

“Is there anything I can do? Please, I’m...” I bit my tongue. I was the worst mafia princess if at the first sign of torture, I divulged all my weaknesses. My father used to lock me in the cellar when I was little. He did it for years until Aunt Vittoria saved me from her own brother. I never got over my fear of the dark. “I’m hungry,” I said when Tore stopped to listen to what I had to say.

“I’ll bring you some food.”

“Can I just eat in the kitchen? I’ll die from Ebola eating in that disease-ridden cell.”

“No.” He hung a left then walked me to the middle of the cell. “You’ll stay here until the wedding.”

“But that can be in weeks. You don’t know when Maxim will wake.” I pulled at my arm.

I was in Belinda’s hands now. If she decided to keep Maxim in a chemically-induced coma, I could be in this cell for years. I glared at the dirty walls around me. Again, Tore moved so fast that by the time I thought to run out, the door had already slammed shut.

“Argh.” I screamed into the small barred window. “When Luca finds me, he will make you pay. He’ll feed you to your dogs.” I pressed my back against the door and let the tears flow.

I shut my eyes so the dark wouldn’t get me and made myself think of Luca and the first time we met. But it didn’t work. The darkness crept over my skin like long tendrils, leaving a trail of cold, empty space where Luca should be.

“No one is coming for me.” I sobbed into my hands.

CHAPTER7

This Isn't a Real Wedding

Donata

“You didn’t eat your meal.” Tore stood crowding the threshold with another tray of food in his hands.

“I won’t eat in this place.” My voice sounded coarse from all the screaming I’d done all day. “You can’t keep me here. It’s repugnant. I’d rather starve.”

He grunted, looking confused again.

“Maxim can be out for weeks. If I die of starvation before the wedding, it’ll be on you.”

He mumbled something in Russian, then reached for my elbow again. “You’ll eat in the kitchen.”

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