Page 58 of The Madman and his broken Princess
I averted my eyes as he approached us and buckled his belt. “Your girls are indeed very skilled. They kept me entertained for longer than most.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I’ll extend the compliment,” Nestore said neutrally.
I glanced at his passive face. Had he tested their skills?
I shoved the thought aside. It was the past. Nestore was mine now. Or was he?
Remo’s gaze hit me with its cold scrutiny. I forced a smile. “Maybe you can learn a trick or two to please your husband.”
“She pleases me,” Nestore clipped, and my heart swelled with warmth.
Remo looked doubtful but didn’t say anything. Silence reigned around us except for the low hum of chatter and the occasional clang of a cup.
“I’m short on time,” Remo muttered.
Nestore motioned for him to go ahead into the office. He and I entered right behind Remo. Inside, Fabiano lounged on the massive brown leather sofa and watched a video on his phone. Upon closer look, I could tell it was a cage fight. He sat up when we entered, his eyebrows rising when he spotted me. His piercing blue eyes were as cold as ice. His face suggested he was everyone’s darling, but I knew better than to trust a pretty face.
“Nestore wants to show her the business,” Remo said. “But first, we need to watch one of the most successful fights in Camorra betting history.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know more about the business, especially if it involved naked women and violent fights. Nestore turned on a screen on the wall across from the sofa, and the image of a pit appeared. It looked like a Roman amphitheater.It had to be the fighting pit where Nestore had taken me shortly after my arrival. Or did the Camorra have more than one like that? They liked to unsettle people, and that definitely did the trick.
“This is the kind of extravagance only an Underboss in LA can pull off,” Remo said with a twisted smile.
I shuddered at the memory of the fights that Nestore and I had witnessed there. Fabiano and Remo exchanged a look. I didn’t care if they thought I was sensitive. The presence of another brutal place so close to where Nestore and I lived was horrendous. The basement was bad enough. Nestore would never find peace if he kept violence in his life.
Two men entered the pit, armed with shields and spears, just like gladiators. I shook my head.
“Bets are terrific, according to Nino, especially online. It doesn’t even matter who fights. Though your fights and whenever the wildcats are involved trump everything.”
“They are. It’s a spectacle that encourages risky bets,” Nestore said proudly.
I turned my back on the screen. After a moment, Nestore touched my shoulder and held out a black credit card. “This is obviously too soon. Go to Francoise with your guards. You need a few dresses to impress a crowd. I want you to look like the wife of a Roman emperor.”
I gave him an incredulous look but took the card. Fabiano and Remo exchanged looks that suggested they thought shopping was all women were good for. I didn’t care. I just wanted out.
He picked up his phone and called someone. The two men who had guarded me on the premises before appeared in the doorway a couple of minutes later. In their matching black suits with black ties, they reminded me of coroners. Maybe that was Nestore’s intention. Morbidity was his favorite pastime.
I hesitated, wishing Nestore could come with me.
He kissed me briefly, taking me by surprise, before he turned back to Remo and Fabiano.
After another fleeting glance at the brutal fight on the screen, I left with my guards, and they took me to Francoise.
She didn’t bat an eye when I told her I needed to look like a Roman empress. Working for Nestore, she probably only got unusual requests. I tried to distract myself with shopping as some people could, but my mind remained in the Medusa with Nestore.
When I spotted a panel of bloodred silk, I asked Francoise to create something for me. “I need it for tonight. Can you sew something in a couple of hours?”
Her eyes widened, but she gave a resolute nod. “A simple spaghetti strap dress with an A-line.”
“I’ll wait as you work.”
I sank into a chair and watched Francoise cut the silk, then set up everything on her table with focused precision.
“How did you meet Nestore?” I asked when she turned on her sewing machine. Her shoulders rounded, and she tossed me a shaky smile.
“I was locked up in a cage in a man’s bedroom. I didn’t know his name. He kidnapped me…and used me for his needs.” Her voice drifted off. Her gaze was distant, and the stiff line of her body betrayed her struggle to maintain composure.
“One day, Mr. Romano came in when the man was busy with me. I thought maybe he would join in because that happened sometimes, but he ripped him away from me and cut his…his privates off.”
