Page 44 of Auctioned To Her Dad's Mafia Enemies

I close my eyes for a moment, then open them.My voice is quiet when I say, “You mean nothing to him. You mean nothing toanyone. You’re alone in this world.”

Her breath shudders. The pain in her eyes isso real before her tears spill over, slipping down her cheeks. What I saidshouldn’t have cut so deep. She has a mother, aunt, and brother who love her,doesn’t she? Friends. Other family members. As do I. But my own connectionsdon’t fill the space inside me. What I said is the thing that would gut me themost.

I want to take it back. I want to wipe awaythe proof of her pain. But she tilts her chin up, ready.

“You should start recording.”

“I’ll tell my brothers.”

Downstairs, Alexis is finished from hisshower, rubbing a towel over his hair and laughing at the TV with Luca. I grabthe remote and flick off the TV. Luca turns quickly, annoyed, but I put up myhand. “We have a plan.”

“What plan?”

“Aemelia is going to fake her suffering forthe next video.”

“It has to be convincing, Antonio. She’s noOscar-winning actress.” Luca stands, folding his arms across his chest. He’sstill wearing his suit pants and a white dress shirt, always formal despite oursurroundings.

“She’s willing to do whatever it takes,” Isay. “We’ll stage it carefully. Bruising, distress, something that looks worsethan it is.”

Alexis tilts his head. “But you’re notplanning to actually hurt her?”

“No.” My voice is firm. “But it has to be realenough to make Carlo believe it.”

“I can do it.”

We all turn to find Aemelia halfway down thestairs. She’s clutching a towel around herself, her smooth, shapely legs bare,her white bra straps still in place over her shoulders. She’s stripped off herclothes for the scene. My blood runs cold at her obedience. Already, she’schanging. Already, she’s losing her spirit. “You need to make me cry,” shesays. “Make it look like I’m going through hell.”

Alexis whistles low. “Damn. This girl has moreguts than half our men.”

“You think you can handle what it will take?”Luca asks, his blue eyes sharp.

“I can.” She fixes her jaw, but her knucklesare white as she’s clutching the towel to her.

“We played it out,” I say, more to reassureher than Luca. “She’s good. Very convincing.”

Luca studies me for a moment that drags on waytoo long, his assessing gaze looking for holes in my story. He’s always beenlike this with others, but not usually with me. Before, we would have just donewhat we needed to. Hurting people isn’t something any of us have shied awayfrom. This is the life we live. There’s no hiding from the brutality. Butsuddenly, we’re all relieved to fake the violence and threat.

We’re changing. All of us.

“Fine,” he says eventually. “We do it now.”

“Now,” I repeat as dread moves through me likesilt settling against the river floor.

The next moments are a blur of preparation.Luca adjusts the lighting to cast deep shadows. Alexis shifts the position ofthe furniture while I stand in front of Aemelia to mess up her hair, teasing itbetween my fingers until it looks as wild as it did before I washed it. “This—”I start, but I don’t even know how to finish. What can I say to her with mybrothers standing behind me? What choice does she have? It’s this or—

I don’t even want to think of an alternative.

She rubs at the skin of her throat, making itred. “Press your fingers here,” she says. “Make a mark.” I wrap my fingersaround her slender neck and press, wincing when she shudders and pulls away.

Fuck.

I’ve killed men like this, throttled the lifefrom them with my bare hands. It’s never been easy, but it’s also never beenthis hard. Aemelia shudders, but she doesn’t pull away. The trust she has in meto let this happen floors me.

“Time for the real performance,” Luca murmurs,holding up the phone. “Aemelia, are you ready?”

She nods, her breathing quick and uneven,dropping the towel.

My breath catches in my throat as she revealsherself in white lace underwear, the kind a bride might wear on her honeymoon.Her breasts are high and lush, her waist tiny, and her belly gently curvedabove the panties that barely cover what’s beneath. My hands flex at my sidesas I restrain a maelstrom of emotions. This isn’t right. None of us should seeher like this, almost naked, stripped of her dignity. I swallow against afist-size lump wedged in my throat, desperate to pick up the towel and cover her,raging to tell Luca that avenging Mario this way is wrong.

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