Page 92 of Forbidden Sins

Vito chuckles, regarding me the way someone might regard a disobedient child. Or a dog. “You will, after the first broken finger,” he says mildly. “But we’re not there yet. I still need to speak to your father. Once I’ve confirmed his cooperation, then we’ll have another talk. I have a quiet room on the other side of the penthouse where we can speak, just you and I and one of my men. He’s very good at breaking bones. I imagine we won’t be in there long. Unless, of course, you promise you’ll cooperate when I come back.”

“I won’t,” I snap defiantly, but my stomach twists. I want to believe that I can hold out, that I won’t sayyesto marrying Vito of my own free will… but I know that’s easier said than done, once he starts to hurt me. And from the look on his face?—

I think he’ll do it.

Fear trickles through me, making my blood go cold. Vito’s gaze flicks to my left hand. “A shame.” He clicks his tongue. “I won’t be replacing your ring, Estella. You should have taken better care of it.”

His gaze sweeps over me, taking me in. “A shame, too, that I won’t be your first. Don’t bother denying it—” he holds up a hand, before I can say a word. “I doubt that you spent what was it—two, three?---nights alone with your bodyguard and didn’t fuck him. Little slut.” He spits the word. “I might have a doctor examine you, just to be sure. But I’m not sure I mind as much as I thought I would. I won’t have to be careful with you.” Hesmiles, a slow, evil grin. “I can fuck you however I please. And trust me, Estella, I will. As much and as often as I like, once everything is tied up how I want it.”

He looks at me once more, then unlocks the door, leaving and locking it again behind him. I hear theclick, and my heart drops, my entire body wracked with grief as I bury my face in my hands and finally give in to the sobs.

I don’t know how I’m going to survive this.

Without Sebastian, I don’t think I can.

31

SEBASTIAN

Iwake in misery, sitting in a chair in the middle of that damned stable, my thigh on fire. I open my eyes and sneeze almost immediately, dust motes swimming in the air around me as I blink awake to a world that’s nothing but pain.

There are guards posted at both exits, not that it matters. I’m zip-tied so tightly to the chair that I can’t feel my fingers, and there’s no getting out of this. Not this time.

Why didn’t he just leave me to fucking die?The only thing that makes sense is that Antony brought me back here to kill me himself, probably slowly, for kidnapping his daughter.

The stable door creaks open, and sunlight fills the dim area inside the stable. My head is pounding, and I squint, making out Antony Gallo’s form as he steps inside. The door closes behind him with a finality that makes my stomach drop. His men move back into place, guarding any route of escape as Antony strides toward me.

“Sinclair.” His voice is flat and cold. I don’t respond. What could I possibly say? He’s going to kill me, either fast or slow. I won’t ever see Estella again, but I can’t regret any of it. Those fewdays with her were the best of my entire life. I’ll hold onto those memories in the moments before my death comes.

He stops in front of me, his expensive Italian leather dress shoes gleaming against the dusty floor, inches from my boots. “Look at me,” he snaps, and I obey—if only because I want him to have to look into my eyes, too, as he kills me. If I’m going to die, I’m not going to do it staring at the floor.

“I gave you a second chance,” Antony bites out. “I warned you what would happen, Sinclair. And youabductedher. You sealed your fate the moment you decided to take her.”

“I protected her.” I stare him down unflinchingly. “I kept her safe from Vito. He tried to fucking assault her in the garden, do you know that? Tried to get her topleasehim before the wedding.” My mouth twists with disgust. “I saved her from that. Since you couldn’t—or wouldn’t—protect her from it yourself.”

The backhand comes suddenly, but it’s not unexpected. Antony’s hand connects with the side of my face, hard, splitting open the old wound on my lip. Pain burns through my mouth, but I stare up at him, defiant.

“Vito is a piece of shit,” I spit out. “And he should never have been allowed to have her. My place was to protect her, and I?—”

“This has gone far enough,” Antony growls. “Your place will be six feet under, Sinclair. After I cut you up into so many pieces that they’ll be able to fit you into a single bag even before you’re cremated.”

“I love her.” I shrug. “I’ve always loved her. And if I have to die for it, fine. I did my best to keep her safe. I’ll die knowing that—and that she loves me, too. That what I have from her Vito can’t ever take away from either of us… and neither can you.”

Antony’s jaw clenches. He shifts, about to harm me in some new and inventive way, I’m sure—when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

He stops, frowning, and reaches into his pocket. When he pulls out the phone and looks at the screen, his expression visibly hardens.

He takes a step back, turning away, but I can still hear the conversation. A part of me thinks that he wants me to—so I can understand just how helpless I truly am right now.

It’s not necessary to rub it in. I’m well aware.

“Vito,” he mutters as he answers the phone. And then, his voice sharp as a blade and full of rage: “What the fuck are you playing at, Bianchi?”

I see his face go pale. Whatever Vito is saying on the other end, it’s not good.

“How dare you?” he spits, his shoulders tensing. “You think you can just?—”

He goes quiet for a long moment. “I want proof she’s alive.”

---