Page 24 of Deadly Vows

My panicked breaths fill the room as I continue to pull the trigger, grunts of frustration accompanying my failed attempt, but it’s all the same—an empty click. No bullet. He didn’t load a bullet. I slowly lower the gun, my eyes remaining on the whites of my knuckles. I don’t want to look at Luca.

I can’t.

I drop the gun, and it lands with a heavy thud. My legs give out immediately after, and I collapse in front of him, my tears falling onto the wood flooring. I hear his footsteps slowly move around his desk until his glossy shoes appear in my line of vision. He kneels, placing his fingers under my chin to force me to look at him.

Calculated anger is reflected at me in that gray gaze. He doesn’t speak. He studies me, taking in my terror-filled state until he finally scoffs.

“Did you really think I’d give you a loaded gun?” he asks.

If I hadn’t thrown up earlier, I just might in this moment. The eerie calm of his voice sends a chill up my arms. But I can’t look away from his intense glare. I flinch as his grip on my chin tightens.

“I’m not an idiot, Elise. If you happened to land on a bullet and blow your face off, then where would that leave me?” he asks.

“Ah!” I cry out as he roughly grips my jaw, pulling me in close to him.

“But you weren’t going to do that, were you? You were going to put a bullet in me. Me, your husband.” His eyes narrow. “And what were you going to do once I was dead, huh? They would have shot you down as soon as you set foot out this door. You are a foreigner on my turf, Elise. I am the only reason you are alive.”

I pull my face from his grip.

“Just kill me then! How long are you going to hold my blood over my head? You already treat me like I’m less than you, kill me and be done with it!” I shriek. My terror fuels my bravery at this moment, and Luca knows it.

But I continue to push him.

“You’d be doing me a favor,” I add.

Luca’s eyes shift to my hair, his fingers threading through, gripping roughly as he pulls me close, inches from my lips. A knowing smile forms on his lips as he studies me, remembering my fear.

“I’m not going to kill you. You’re my wife, Elise. And I take my vows very seriously. But if you keep pushing me, I just might.”

I understand now why Luca chose such a large estate to call home. It’s large enough to have other facilities where he can conduct “business” without the worry of being disturbed by someone who shouldn’t be around. I don’t know the problems arising with the Pasquino family, but Luca has been interrogating men more so than usual on the grounds. Not only has he been able to isolate me in this large place, but he can cut off a man’s finger without having to worry about neighbors hearing his screams of agony.

Luca has been in a poor mood lately. I know it’s my fault for my pathetic murder attempt the other day in his office. He’s been on a short fuse, walking around with a constant scowl. He even loses himself in his “interrogations”, ending up killing the man on the receiving end of his wrath. I’m sure he wishes he could do that to me. But for some unknown reason, he can’t. He sees me as his wife, no matter how much hell he puts me through.

Not only has he been in a foul mood, but he’s barely spoken to me. He doesn’t sleep in the same room as me, and if he sees me around the house, he looks me up and down before leaving the room.

At least something good came out of my murder attempt.

I adjust the strings on my violin one last time before placing it in its case. With Luca’s shunning comes my own personal freedom. When I have rehearsals, I’ve been using Luca’s men as my chauffeur, which he doesn’t mind. The sounds of screams pull my attention, and I move to the window just in time to see another stranger being dragged into the annex. I shudder as I take in the terror on his face. Luca’s reputation precedes him. I recall him and Nicolai’s conversation about Luca’s medical IQ. Luca knows everything about the human body for the sole purpose of inflicting pain. It’s scary thinking I’m married to someone who is so invested in his own sadism.

I quickly wrap my instrument case around my back before making my way down the main steps to the front door. I have a rehearsal in an hour, which means I should leave now if I want to arrive on time.

“Elise.”

My name echoes off the foyer’s walls, sending a chill up my spine at the familiar voice. I turn away from the front door to face Luca, my greeting catching in my throat as I take him in. He has blood on his sleeves and shirt, and a few splatters on his cheeks. But he doesn’t seem to notice or, more importantly, care.

“Where are you going?” he asks when I don’t respond. His eyes follow my nervous movements, taking in every aspect of me so that he knows how to react.

“I have rehearsal,” I say.

I tense when he approaches me, his eyes shifting to the violin.

“I’ll take you,” he says.

Before I can protest, he grips my hand in his. I bite back the desire to squeal as blood oozes into my palm from his own, but he notices, a frown forming.

“I’ll get cleaned up.” Contrary to what I think, he keeps his hand in mine, pulling me with him to the bathroom. I quickly set my violin down when he releases me, pulling his clothes off to shower. My eyes immediately fall to the cryptic words tattooed across his back, and I look away immediately.

He’s taken several lives since we met.

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