Page 36 of Flawed

"Pillows, a blanket, and your lamps," he answers.

Bill groans and puts the clipboard and pen on the coffee table. He and Lou work on putting a silver floor lamp and table lamp together while Matt takes plastic off brightly colored pillows of varying sizes. He arranges them on the couch and chair while I stand stunned.

They finish, I sign, and they leave. I sit on the couch, put the soft cream blanket over me, and hug my knees. Tears of confusion come streaming out, and I wonder how a gift so generous could feel so cruel.

7

Luca

Four Months Later

It's beenseveral months since my time with Chanel. Yet all I think about is her. No matter what I do, I can't shake the vision of her face, or the way her body felt wrapped around mine, or how she's so innocent and pure and way too damn good for me.

I'd do anything to see her again. Several times, I've sat outside her apartment in my car, just waiting for her to come out. And every time I see her gorgeous face, it reignites the pain, desire, and obsession I can't seem to shake.

But I stay away. I know I need to never put her at risk of entering my world again. It's too gruesome, and no matter what I do to keep her away from my reality, I can't keep her hidden under a rock. Eventually, the Abruzzos would find out about her. And I was a fool to contemplate anything long term with her. It would only end with her subjected to my enemy.

Every day, I fall farther and farther into the Abruzzo underworld. In some ways, the time I spent with Chanel reignited the fire I have to take out Jacopo and his family. I've done everything I can to become more and more important to him, and today will be the real test. I'll either leave in a body bag, or he'll solidify my worth to him.

As I pull up to his large estate, drive through the iron gates, and pass the bodyguards, I have a sense of dread. It's mixed with adrenaline. It's not a new feeling, but it's never been this intense. Then again, I've never done what I'm about to do.

I walk through the mansion, entering Jacopo's dining room. His top men and three of his new women are in there.

My gut churns. I hate it every time I see his women. He always has them on a chicken tenderloin diet. They get one small piece of grilled meat, and that's it.

I've seen too many of Jacopo's women waste away to skeletons. And I don't understand why he likes his women without any curves. I don't know if it's just a control thing or really what he's attracted to, but they arrive healthy and beautiful. It only takes a little time before they waste away.

These women aren't here of their own free will. They're prisoners. They sit at his table, listening to everything that goes on, not allowed to speak.

What's even crueler is that all the men eat more food than they'll ever need. Most of them don't seem to even notice the women starving on their water and chicken diet. It's like the Abruzzos only see females as property. Even the ones who come into marriages willingly aren't free to do what they please.

Today is no different. His three women have sad eyes, and I avoid looking at them any more than I have to. It takes everything I have not to pull out my gun and shoot all the men in the room. But I wouldn't leave here alive.

"Luca, sit your ass down," Jacopo orders, pointing to a seat.

I obey him, and a servant puts a plate of food in front of me.

"Eat," Jacopo demands.

I don't dare disobey him. I'm not hungry, but I eat half my plate, listening to the conversation. Nothing is anything I could use against him, so I bide my time, concentrating on my meal.

Jacopo finally turns his attention to me. "What's brought you here?"

I put my fork down and sit up straighter. In my most serious voice, I say, "I have some bad news."

He scowls. "What would that be?"

I glance around at the other men in the room. They are his top advisors, but I still don't trust them. Plus, they're too close to who I'm going to accuse of Abruzzo crimes they didn't commit.

I clear my throat, asking, "Permission to speak with you privately, boss?"

Jacopo assesses me for several minutes, making me want to shift in my seat, but I don't dare make a move. That would show weakness, and there's nothing he hates more.

He finally nods his head toward the door.

The men get up. The women stay.

I glance at them. They may be prisoners in his house, but I don't trust anybody. Jacopo underestimates them. One of these days, his lack of respect for them will backfire. I don't know when or how, but I'm convinced of it.

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