For the next hour, I washed my hair, put it into an updo, and applied makeup to my face. She dresses me in a black silk gown that touches the floor but stresses my breasts for show.
“Come, Mr. Barone is waiting for you.”
I swallow as fear gambols through me because I don’t know that name. I have very little knowledge of thefive families, but that’s not a last name I’ve ever heard tied to theirs.
Which means he’s a powerful man in his own right. One that doesn’t need the backing of his family to have influence.
I follow the woman who wouldn’t give me her name. Even though I begged her to tell me that once I find my way free, I could return for her.
She’s too afraid to speak a word against Giani.
She leads me into his office, which I’ve already been in. My eyes wander over where Tommaso’s eyes had gone lifeless on the marble floors, and I swallow.
“Mm, keep that in mind, little sheep,” Giani says, and my eyes flick up towards him.
A man sits before his desk, relaxed into a chair with a leg crossed over the other—the epitome of power, even from behind.
“She’s a fast learner, this one,” Giani tells the man, and I have to hold my tongue so as not to start something before I know this new man, my new prison guard.
“Come, little sheep, show Matteo what he’s bought.”
The man growls, standing and turning to look me over.
He’s got soft brown eyes, and Giani’s hardness is missing from his face. Still, he turns back to Giani and scowls, almost as if he doesn’t like what he sees.
I swallow over a stretching lump in my throat.
“Don’t call her that. You’ve no right to give my property pet names.”
Despite myself, I beam as he defends me against Giani.
Right before berating myself for the relief I’d let wash through me.
I’m still a prisoner, and I need to remember as much.
Matteo shoves his hands in his pockets as I watch fear lick over Giani’s features. What kind of man intimidates the head of one of thefive families?
“She’s different from the others,” Matteo says, walking around me. He runs a finger up my neck slowly, testing something.
I grimace, fighting a shiver.
“What do you mean? Does she not meet expectations? I can dispose of her and get you another, but I require time to clean another.”
Matteo looks at Giani as if disgusted by the conditions he’s keeping all the girls in. This man might be impressionable. I might sway him to set me free. To save all the girls in the basement.
But if my life is any sign of how things go for me, I try not to let hope build in my chest.
“No. She is fine. But she’s got an energy about her.”
Giani laughs, sitting back in his chair. “I forget your mother was half Romani Gypsy, Barone. She gave you her fucked-up way of thinking. She’s only a common street whore. Picked her up near Tremont.”
My teeth grind together at his words. I’ve never used my body like my mom does. Nor would I ever.
“You have to forgive men like him. They’ll always use those weaker than them to grasp for power,” Matteo says, and Giani narrows his eyes at the man but doesn’t deny his claim.
“And you’re any better?” I ask, knowing I should keep my mouth shut, but also knowing that’s not who I am at my core.
Matteo rounds in front of me, looking down his nose at me from his towering height. “You’re very brave.”