Page 48 of Made to Sin

The deadly conviction in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. As soon as he let me free, I sped-walked out the steeled door. I didn’t have a clue where I was going, but I was afraid he would go through with his statement to hold me hostage if I stayed longer.

At the end of the hall, Sylvio waited for me with a smug grin. Seeing me rush out of Luciano’s office with terror evident on my face must have been a humorous sight for him.

“Wasn’t that fun?” He teased.

I didn’t reply, giving him a deadpanned look that said enough.

It was indeed not fun at all.

“KATARINA?” EMILYSQUEALEDWHENI clocked in for my volunteer shift after a mini hiatus.

“Hi,” I sheepishly replied, knowing I’d been ghosting her the past few days.

It wasn’t personal. I was ghosting everyone, including Maria who was physically trying to talk to me. I was just embarrassed and didn’t want to face anyone after the mess with coke last week.

Her oval face morphed into a frown. “We thought you got tired of us and quit.”

Guilt washed over me. I had grown close to everyone within the month I’d been here, and disappearing out of nowhere must have looked bad.

It was also the first time I’d broken the tradition Emily and I had to eat at her parent’s noodle shop after each shift. Even when my Pilates teacher scolded me for all the carbs, I never stopped coming over for stir-fried noodles and wontons.

“No, I was just a bit busy and forgot to call in, I’m sorry.”

It was a lie, but the real reason wasn’t as family-friendly for an early morning tale. The truth was that Marco didn’t hold back on beating me for the shame I’d caused him.

—

Sylvio’s black Audi slowed as he passed the opened gates and onto the driveway of Marco’s estate. Speak of the devil, my husband stood by the door, mouth stretched into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

I was so screwed.

He took the short walk to the passenger door and held it for me like the ever-so-caring husband he was.

“Sylvio, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person. Thank you for bringing my wife home,” Marco said over my body, factitiously grinning so wide it looked like it hurt.

Sylvio didn’t spare him a second glance, only nodding, before turning to me. “Don’t get caught doing stupid things again.”

“Thank you,” I muttered as I stepped out.

Marco immediately grabbed my arm, almost as if he was afraid I would run. He didn’t have to worry about that. Mamma’s attempt scarred me for two lifetimes.

I gritted my teeth at the soreness that followed my husband’s tight grip but plastered a fake smile as we watched Sylvio speed off.

Marco was usually pretty good at holding in his anger until we were in private, but today, there was none of that. As soon as Sylvio’s car was out of sight, he viciously shoved me to the ground.

My scream got caught in my chest as a harsh kick to the flabby side of my waist was dealt. I groaned, curling up into the small fetal position I was accustomed to when times were bad.

Marco crouched down and grabbed my jaw in his large hand. “You think I want to hit you?” He asked, spit flying all over my face from his rage.

“No,” I lied.

Wetness dripped down my battered face, and pink droplets pooled by my aching head.

“Then why do you keep making me do it? You like making me into a villain, don’t you? Stupid bitch.”

Everything hurt. My body, my mind, my soul. Everything hurt.

All I could do was cry, but even then, the subtle movement of my shoulders ached desperately.

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