Chapter 59: Chapter 59
\[ IRIS’S POV \]
The first thing I felt was the silence. It wasn't the heavy, watchful silence of the Russo estate; it was a vast, mountain silence that made me feel like the only person left on earth.
I opened my eyes to find the other side of the massive bed empty, though the imprint of a head on the pillow told me Salvatore had kept his promise. He had watched me sleep. The thought sent a shiver through me, half-terror, half-thrill.
I sat up, the silver orchid necklace clinking against my collarbone. On the nightstand sat a glass of water, a single white rose, and a brand-new smartphone. Beside it was a note in that jagged, aggressive script:
“The world is screaming. Don’t answer. I’ll be back for breakfast.”
Who is screaming?
I ignored the warning and grabbed the phone. The screen was already open to a news feed. The headlines hit me like physical blows.
RUSSO HEIR KIDNAPPED?
MORETTI-RUSSO ALLIANCE IN TATTERS: LORENZO RUSSO DECLARES WAR.
VIDEO: SOFIA ROSSI LEAVES GALA IN TEARS AFTER GROOM VANISHES WITH SISTER.
There was a blurry photo of Salvatore’s SUV blowing through a toll booth at 2:00 AM. Below it, a statement from my father: “Salvatore Moretti has violated the blood pact. If my daughter is not returned by sunset, the streets of New York will burn.”
I dropped the phone. My father didn't want me back because he loved me; he wanted me back because I was his lost leverage.
I stood up, my legs feeling like jelly, and walked to the massive walk-in closet to find something, anything, to wear besides my hoodie. I pulled the double doors open and gasped.
It wasn't just a closet. It was a boutique curated specifically for me.
Rows of silk dresses in deep greens and blacks. Cashmere sweaters in the exact shade of cream I’d once admired in a magazine four years ago. A wall of shoes in my exact size. But it was the vanity that stopped my heart.
Arranged in neat rows were the sketches I had "lost" over the years. My old charcoal pencils. The specific brand of tea I drank. He hadn't just moved me; he had moved my entire identity into this room.
"Do you like the selection?"
I spun around. Salvatore was standing in the doorway, looking fresh and lethal in a black tactical shirt, a smudge of grease on his cheek. He was carrying a tray with coffee and a plate of fruit.
"You’re insane," I whispered, gesturing to the closet. "You’ve been collecting my life like a scrapbook."
“So? Do you hate it?”
Do I hate it? At this most all I can say is no. Even though it still sent a chill down my spine. But I’m beginning to get used to it. But I'm going to pretend. I will keep pretending I’m not used to him. Keep pretending I’m still scared of his presence. Never show a man how truly you want them or how hot they make you feel. That’s one thing I always heard Sofia say.
"I told you, Iris. I’ve been preparing for this day for five years." He set the tray down on the bed and walked toward me. "Your father has sent three hit squads to my city properties. He thinks he can scare me into handing you back. Your father knows me and yet he’s playing with me."
"Salvatore, this is war. People are going to die because of me."
He reached out, his hand cupping the back of my neck, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. "People are going to die because your father thinks he owns you. I’m simply correcting his mistake."
"And Sofia?" My voice broke. "She’s my sister."
Salvatore’s eyes turned to ice. "Sofia is currently giving interviews to the tabloids, playing the victim. She’s already asking for a larger dowry as 'compensation' for her embarrassment. She doesn't miss you, Iris. She misses the crown she thought you stole."
He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine. "You are the only one in that family with a heart. And that is why you are staying here. In this house, you aren't a bargaining chip. You are the Queen."
"A Queen in a cage," I hissed.
"A cage with no locks on the inside, Little Mouse." He pulled a small remote from his pocket and pressed a button.
The glass walls of the bedroom hummed, and the tint cleared, revealing the sheer drop of the mountain cliff. There were no roads visible, only endless forest.
"You can walk out that front door whenever you want," Salvatire whispered, his lips grazing my ear. "But you won't. Because you know that the moment you step off this mountain, your father will put you in a real cage. One with bars and a price tag."
He picked up a piece of fruit and held it to my lips. It was a silent command. I hesitated, then bit into it. The sweetness felt like a betrayal.
"Good girl," he murmured. "Eat. Then, I’m going to show you the rest of your kingdom. Including the room where I keep the files on every man who ever tried to hurt you. I think it’s time you saw what I’ve been doing in the dark all these years."
The phone on the nightstand buzzed. A text from an unknown number: “I know where he took you. Don't trust him. He didn't save you, he’s the one who killed your mother.”
I froze, the fruit turning to ash in my mouth. I looked at Salvatore, the man who claimed to be my protector, and the message that sat in my phone and the word on it that ran a dagger through y my heart. My hand shook and the phone nearly fell from my hand. I was on my feet in an instance nearly pushing him.
I looked at the message again. A message telling me not to ever trust Salvatore and he was the one who took my mother's life. The only one who ever had my back. Care for me. Protected me.
“What is on the phone Iris? Tell me who fucking make you shake and I swear I will kill each and everyone of them.” Salvatore spat.