“Good.” Felicity’s features relaxed, and she squeezed my hand in reassurance, but something in her eyes still looked worried. “You’ll see. Everything will be fine.” Stepping back, she pulled me toward the bed. “Now let’s find something for you to wear. We’ll put you in a wig and totally change your makeup so no one recognizes you. You’ll have to ditch the ring, though. That’s a dead giveaway you’re someone important.”
Removing my ring would reveal my tattoo. And if Luc saw that, he’d know exactly who I was, regardless of how well Felicity’s disguise masked my identity. I was absolutely sure he’d flip his shit when he realized I’d stepped foot off this estate where he claimed I was safe, but I no longer cared how he reacted.
I cared about me. And the truth. And not being a fool any longer.
Even if something in the back of my head whispered this was not going to end well.
Chapter Eighteen
Luc
I checked my watch for the umpteenth time as I stood in the shadows. Only ten minutes had gone by since I’d last glanced at the time. I still had to endure at least another hour before I could make my exit without causing a giant clusterfuck I wasn’t willing to unleash.
Music echoed around me—some techno beat I couldn’t stand. The Favero Villa was set on a low hillside not far outside Florence, but it might have been a thousand miles from Marco’s estate. Cosimo Favero was one of the Thirteen Knights, and as such, not someone I wanted to cross paths with tonight, not when I was itching to escape. Marble columns stretched two full stories around the gaudy ballroom with its intricate moldings and fancy French furnishings, and elaborate paintings covered every single wall. The whole place looked like something vomited right out of the Palace of Versailles, which I suspected was the point, to show off to the measly peasants beneath Favero just how rich and powerful he’d become as a Knight.
I shifted my back against the column where I stood leaning, trying to blend in, watching the hundred or so people congregated in this room. Most of the men in attendance were dressed like me—in slacks and dress shirts, a few still wearing jackets but all hiding behind black leather eye masks. The wives and daughters who’d been permitted in this portion of the party earlier were long gone. What women remained were the betas who’d been brought in to service the men, each one in a skimpy dress or slutty outfit that showed off her body, and kitten or butterfly masks that did shit to protect her identity as she rubbed up against a master.
My gaze zeroed in on Favero across the room, chatting and tossing back drinks at a table with my father and Uncle Sal as they plotted their takeover of the world. Disgust rolled through me when I considered they could be discussing Dante and the farce they called a trial that was set for Saturday. Natalie was right. The only way I was going to truly help Dante was to find Maricella.
Dante had been better today when I’d seen him in the Tomb, but still an incoherent mess. And I was sure they were keeping him drugged on purpose so he couldn’t mount a defense. I hated that I was forced to attend this stupid party when I could be out looking for Maricella. And I was sick over the fact I hadn’t been able to call or even text Natalie to let her know about today’s fucked up change. I could only imagine what was going through her mind right now—especially after our discussion this morning.
Three kittens swarmed around my father’s table, and all three men immediately reacted, palming the girls like property. As the men pushed back from the table and let the kittens draw them toward the ballroom’s massive double doors and the debauchery happening in a lower level of this godawful palace, my father glanced my way with a sinister stare that told me loud and clear I still wasn’t off the hook. I was well aware there were eyes watching to see how long I stayed and whether or not I participated in the depraved activities. Not about to back down from him, I met his stare head-on, making my own point—he might be able to keep me here, but he’d never break my will.
A bitter irony skipped through my mind as I watched my father and his minions exit the room. Was I doing the same thing to Natalie—forcing her to stay in a place she didn’t want to be? Bending her will to mine?
My spine tingled, and I shifted uncomfortably against the column again as two kittens—a blonde in a sparkly barely-there dress and a redhead in a leopard-print skirt and matching bra top—sidled up next to me on each side.
“È caldo qui, o sei?” the blonde asked, running a red-tipped finger down my arm.
I barely caught her cheesy pickup line. I was too busy thinking about my father. And Me. And Natalie.
My mouth grew dry. It wasn’t the same. I wasn’t my father. I was keeping Natalie with me for safety reasons, not because I had some degenerate plans for her. And just this morning, she’d proved she still wanted me. She’d all but begged me to stay with her and blow off my responsibilities today.
Yet even as the thoughts warred inside me, I remembered all the times I’d wished she really would bend to my will, follow my orders, or just plain submit to my demands to make things easier. My pulse picked up speed, and my hands grew damp as I thought of how my words and actions had probably come across to Natalie.
But the truth was, I didn’t want a subservient woman like the ones in this room. I wanted the headstrong challenging one who’d put me in my place in Marco and Fee’s kitchen, who was as fiery and passionate as she’d been last night, who could make me absolutely melt with her vulnerability the way she had this morning. And I wanted her to stay with me because she wanted to, not because I was keeping her as a prisoner.
“Puoi avere qualsiasi modo si desidera,” the redhead whispered near my ear.
I blinked and glanced down at her, not even realizing she’d moved so close. Peeling her hand off my arm, I stepped away from both of them and muttered, “Not interested.”
I stopped near the bar, my chest tight as I glanced toward the doorway, looking for a way to escape, more anxious than ever to get to Natalie. My gaze skipped over the dance floor, over bodies moving and grinding, past a woman in a strapless leather black number with a short black bob rubbing up against a man in a damp white dress shirt, her hand on his shoulder, a tattoo across her left ring fing—
My eyes widened as they zeroed in on that tattoo, then jumped to the woman’s face angled my way as the man continued to gyrate against her. Very familiar blue eyes locked on me in the corner of the room. Very familiar eyes that shouldn’t be anywhere near this deranged party.
I made a beeline through the crowd, straight toward the couple, and as I drew closer and the woman’s gaze followed me, I saw the same fire in those eyes that I’d seen on my island. The same fire I’d looked into last night in Marco and Fee’s kitchen. The same damn fire that lit me up and made me unpredictable in a million different ways. Especially now, when she was letting some asshat in a mask grind against her like she was nothing more than a kitten.
Natalie broke eye contact as I moved to the left to sidestep a couple in my way, which told me without a doubt she knew she was busted. By the time I made it around the gyrating couple, she’d already pushed away from her dance partner and was three steps toward the ballroom exit.
The blood roared in my ears as I caught up with her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and jerked her against my side.
She sucked in a surprised breath, but I didn’t let it stop me. And I didn’t let it stop either of our forward momentum. “Keep walking,” I growled in her ear. “And don’t even think about making any kind of scene, or I am going to lose my shit in a way you do not want to see happen.”
She tensed at my side, but instead of arguing as I half expected her to do, she closed her mouth and let me steer her out of the party. At my back, I heard the dipshit she’d been dancing with yell, “Che cazzo, uomo!” but one glare from behind my mask shut the fucker down. He knew who I was. Just as I knew the fact I’d swooped in out of nowhere and latched on to a kitten would undoubtedly be reported right back to my father and the Knights.
I cursed my hot-tem
pered reaction as I drew Natalie out of the party and into the wide corridor with its marble floor and towering columns, but I didn’t slow my steps. My father wouldn’t buy that I’d suddenly decided to take up with a kitten, not after all these years, which meant I had to get Natalie out of this fucking mansion before he figured out she was here.
Dropping my arm from her shoulder, I closed my hand around hers before she could step away and all but jerked her with me with a muttered “Keep up.”
She stumbled in the four-inch stilettos but caught her footing and increased her pace. I wasn’t dumb enough to try to take her out the front door, so I veered off the main hall toward the kitchen at the back of the massive structure. Voices echoed ahead, though. Voices I recognized as some of the men loyal to my father. Jolting to a stop, I quickly pushed Natalie back into a dark corner in the corridor and closed in at her front.
Her blue eyes widened. “What the hell are you do—”
“Shut up.” I rested my hands against the wall on both sides of her face, then lowered my head and closed my mouth over hers, kissing her hard and swift and without mercy as I pressed my body against hers from knee to chest.
She grunted in protest as my tongue invaded her mouth, and her fingertips curled against my chest, fisting my dress shirt in her grip as she tried to push me away, but I didn’t let up. I kissed her harder and stroked deeper, holding her immobile against the wall with my body so she couldn’t move. Partly to keep her quiet. Partly to block any view of our faces. And partly because my blood was up and I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
She was mine, goddammit. Mine and no one else’s.
The voices passed, and the second we were in the clear, she jerked her mouth from mine and clawed at my chest with a growled “You don’t get to kiss me like that.”
If she’d told me to let her go, if she’d told me to stop, it might have diffused my anger. But her blunt declaration only lit me up even higher. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to grab her and shake some sense into her when I dropped my voice and said, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“The same thing you’re doing here,” she hissed, shoving against my shoulders. “Looking for a good time.”
My vision turned red, and every muscle in my body coiled tight. A good time? With a perverted asshole like the one in the ballroom?
Fuck. That.
More voices echoed from the direction of the kitchen. Without even considering any other option, I wrapped my hand around her wrist and yanked her with me as I headed for the staircase.
“Where are you taking me?” she whispered, hustling to keep up with my long steps.
“Where you said you wanted to go.” I pulled her down two flights of curved stairs to the lowest level of the mansion. “You want to know just what kind of good time happens here? I’ll fucking show you.”
The corridor was dark when we reached the bottom level, the long space illuminated only by red lights in sconces on the walls that gave off an eerie vibe. Enormous mirrors reflected steel doors spaced every twenty feet down the hall. No sound echoed around us as I drew Natalie behind me, but against my hold, I felt her pulse tick up. And from the corner of my vision I saw the way her eyes widened as she looked right and left and tried to figure out what was going on.
The last door on the right was cracked. I shoved it farther open with one hand and yanked Natalie into the room with the other. The space was dark, but I’d been in this dungeon before—years ago—and I knew what was in this room. Blood still pumping hot, I hauled her down the two steps to the sunken floor and across the carpet where I twisted her around so she was facing me, then reached up for the cuff I knew was hanging from a bar above our heads.
“What’s going on?” she asked in a nervous voice.
I slapped the leather cuff around her wrist and quickly latched the buckle.
“Luc, what the hell?”
Before she had time to fight back, I yanked her other hand above her head and latched the second cuff to her other wrist.
“Take these off me right now.”
Ignoring her, I crossed back to the door, slammed it shut, and flipped the locks, then I hit the lights—red and eerie and casting everything in a sinister glow.
Natalie’s eyes grew wide as saucers as she got her first look at her surroundings. The walls were painted a dark port wine, the ceiling lined with mirrors. Various pieces of furniture filled the room, each one built from dark woods and even darker leathers. Furniture I knew she’d never seen before.
A Saint Andrew’s cross was positioned against the wall to her left, a spanking bench to her right. Across from her was a dungeon table edged by various metal ring restraints atop a barred slave cage. And against the far wall, taking up most of the space, was a bondage bed complete with a leather headboard, black satin sheets, four tall posters housing numerous restraints, and a stockade built in between the bottom posts.
Her holy-shit gaze behind the kitten mask she wore jumped from the furniture to the instruments hanging from racks on any exposed walls—crops, whips, canes, floggers. All kinds of cuffs, chains, and ropes. Even ball gags, collars, and clamps.
“Wh...what is this place?” she asked, a tremor to her voice that hadn’t been there before.
“Their kind of fun. You said you wanted fun. You got it.” I was too riled up to touch her or—fuck—even look at her right now, so I crossed to the French armoire to my left, yanked my mask off, then jerked the upper doors open and poured myself a glass of scotch from the cut-glass decanter on a silver tray.
“Th-this isn’t right,” Natalie said in a quiet voice at my back. The chains hooked to her restraints jangled as I tossed back my drink. “Let me go.”
“So you can alert everyone in this damn place to your presence? I don’t think so.” I poured myself another shot, hoping the alcohol would cool me down so I didn’t do something I’d regret later. “You already made enough of a fucking scene.”
“Luc.” The chains rattled once more. “I’m not kidding. Let me go, or I’ll scream.”
“Go ahead.” I swallowed the second shot, feeling the burn straight down my chest. “That’s what this room is made for. No one will give a shit.”
“You sonofabitch.”
“I’m a sonofabitch?” I rounded on her, glass in hand, unable to stop myself. “I’m not the one sneaking around with zero regard for anyone else’s safety.”
“You’re worried about your safety?” Her eyes locked on mine from across the room, but they were no longer the wary and afraid eyes I’d seen when I’d first flipped on the lights. These eyes were as hot and dangerous as the center of a flame, ready to fry me to a crisp. “You looked pretty safe to me in that ballroom surrounded by all those kittens.”
She was jealous. That fact hit me square in the center of my chest and diffused at least a little of my rage. “No, mannaggia, I’m worried about yours. And Felicity’s. That is how you got here, isn’t it? You conned Felicity into bringing you even when you knew it would put her at risk, all because you don’t fucking trust me even after everything I’ve done for you.”
She jerked on the restraints, her eyes blazing. “For your information, Felicity is the one who talked me into coming here. She was already on her way to be with Marco. Unlike us, they actually talk about shit instead of ignoring it. And why the hell would I trust you? You lied to me this morning.”
I drew a breath, knowing I was teetering on the edge, working like hell to keep from going off the deep end. She was ticked because I hadn’t come back to her today as I said I would, and she had every right to be angry. But she needed to know this was not an acceptable reaction. “I didn’t lie to you. They took my phone as soon as I finished with Dante. I wanted to call you. I tried repeatedly to get to a phone to contact you, but they wouldn’t let me. I’m not even remotely tempted by what’s going on out there. I was biding my time until I could get back to you.”
“You tried to call to tell me about this party?”
br /> “Yes. They wanted you to react like this. They’re trying to make you jealous even though you and I both know you have nothing to be jealous of.”
“So you’re saying you didn’t know about this party yesterday?”
I dropped my hand to my side as I stared at her. Merda. She was baiting me. I could tell from her icy eyes that she already knew the answer to that question.
“I thought so,” she said in a hard voice. “I could tell you were hiding something from me when you came back from that meeting with your father.”
I looked down at the empty glass in my hand. Seconds ago I’d wanted to hurl it against the wall, to take my frustration out on it since I couldn’t grab her and shake some reason into her. Now I didn’t know what I wanted. I was just tired. Tired of trying to do the right thing. Tired of fucking up. Tired of making things worse when all I wanted was to make them better.
I dropped down to the step, set the glass on the hardwood beside me, and scrubbed a hand through my hair. “I give up.” Exhaling, I leaned forward to rest my forearms on my knees, the fight slipping out of me. “Since all I keep doing is the wrong thing, you tell me what I should have done. What I should do now,” I corrected.
She was silent for several seconds, then said, “You need to let me go.”
I pressed the heel of my hand against my forehead, fighting a whopper of a headache I was pretty sure was only going to get worse before this night was over. “I will. When the party dies down and I know you’re not going to accidentally be seen by someone.”
“No, I mean, you need to let me go for good.”
For a moment, her words circled in my head, their meaning ambiguous. Then they contorted into the shape of a dagger pointed directly at my heart, causing me to lift my head and look at her. Really look at her, standing in those ridiculous heels, that insanely short dress, wearing that odd wig while her arms were secured above her head.