Page 8 of The Sicilian Heir
"It was nothing. Just women bonding." I glanced up at him in time to see the flash of disbelief flicker in his eyes before he hid it.
I pulled away from him. There was no way I wanted to tell him all about Romano and his men. In fact, I wanted to forget the entire ordeal and move on with my life. We sat there in silence, Vito behind me with his arms around me. If I were honest, I'd tell him that he made me feel safe as well, but I wasn't honest.
The staff came in and out. The nurses tried to remove Vito, but he wouldn't budge. He just held me. I don't think anyone has ever just held me. Not even Maddox. The thought of him made my eyes tear up, but I pushed them back. He was gone, and I was here. Alone.
A few days passed, and Doctor Samson was relieved with the way I was healing. He decided to let me leave early but made me promise I would come back in if I saw any signs of infection. Vito was basically taking notes the entire time. We pulled up to the Picone compound and I shivered. It reminded me of when I was brought to the Romano estate after the kidnapping.
I was blindfolded in the back of a moving vehicle. It felt like we had been traveling for days, but I was sure it was only a few hours. The men who had taken me all spoke Italian. It was guttural, not as smooth as what I've heard. The car came to a stop and they filed out of the car. My head whipped toward the sounds of gravel crunching below boots. Someone grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the car. I stumbled and fell flat on my face. The men, however many there were, laughed and jeered at me. I caught the heel of a boot in my ribs but wasn't sure if it was on purpose or if it was because I couldn't see and was trying to get away. I tried to scramble to my feet, but someone grabbed my hands and dragged me along the gravel. It dug into my body and I squealed in pain.
That just made the men laugh harder as they trailed after me and whoever was dragging me. I was going to die. That was the only thing I could think about. My body was pulled up steps and I felt every bump on the way up. Then I was dragged on cool tile. Once I reached the carpet, I was shaking, trying to pull my hands away from the strong grip they were in. The blindfold was ripped off my face and I blinked, trying to take in the room I was in. There were five men in the room. I was standing now and one of the men sat in front of me in a chair with his legs spread. He was fat and ugly, puffing on a cigar.
"On your knees," he drawled.
I hesitated and one of the men behind me kicked my legs out from under me.
"Good girl," the fat man said. "I am Thomas Romano. I want to know where Rosalina Picone is hiding."
"Who?" I was so confused. I had been taken because of someone else. Someone I didn't even know. "You're making a mistake. I don't know anyone by that name."
Romano scoffed and rose unsteadily to his feet. He was either drunk or too large to be able to withstand his weight. "You will talk. I'll make you." He leered at me and then dug his cigar out on the back of my neck. I screamed at the unexpected pain and fell to the floor.
"Say thank you, master," he prodded me with a boot in my back.
"Thank you, master," I whispered into the carpet that smelled like piss and old pennies. I wanted to vomit but was worried what he would do to me if I did.
"Good girl," he moaned on the title.
That was only the beginning.
I shook off the haunting remnants of Romano's short reign over my life. He only had me a week or two, but the scars he left on my soul were there for life.
"I'll help you to your room and then I have to head into the office." I had forgotten Vito was still in the car with me.
I had been so lost in thought, my eyes weren't seeing what was around me. I just walked alongside him and allowed him to bring me to the room I had stayed in previously. We climbed up the stairs in the compound, every step bringing me aches in my chest. It felt hard to breathe. We got to my room slowly. I was panting by the time Vito opened the door.
"I want you to rest as much as possible. In the coming weeks, we have a lot of traveling to do between here and New York," Vito informed me.
"Traveling?" My head was already in a fog and I wasn't understanding quite why I had to travel anywhere with Vito.
"We have to pay the proper respect to those who were massacred at the wedding."
I hadn't even thought of that. Of course, we would have to pay respects. Wait, why did I have to pay my respects? I wasn't mafia. I said as much to Vito and he smirked.
"You're mine, so you go." Then he abruptly left me in the bedroom.
I slowly sank to the bed, trying to close my gaping mouth. Who did he think he was? I wasn't his. If I had a choice, I would stab Vito right in the heart. I didn't know what his game was, but I wouldn't be participating.
A little while later, I had dozed off on the bed. A knock sounded on the door.
"Come in," I called, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
A servant scurried inside and glanced at me before she looked down. "I'm supposed to help you down to dinner, miss."
I was surprised she didn't curtsy. I gently pulled myself off the bed, careful not to pull any stitches, and double checked the gauze on my face was in place. I wasn't ready to show the world what was under the bandage just yet. The servant held out her arm stiffly and helped me downstairs. Since she didn't chatter, I took the time to look her over. She was a curvy Italian woman. She was probably around my age as well. I wondered briefly why Vito or one of his brothers didn't snatch her up. She led me into the dining room, and I took a seat in the middle of the large wooden table. I let out a sigh of relief.
Walking around was not easy for me right now. I didn't see Vito yet, so I waited. The door slid open and in walked one of his younger siblings. I scrambled for a name. I think it was Luciano. The bastard.
"What are you doing down here?" he growled at me.
