Chapter 35 Control
He released my wrist. I heard him move to the couch and heard the leather creak as he lay down.
"Come here," he said.
My hands were shaking as I stood and used my cane to find the couch. I located his shoulders and then knelt beside him on the floor.
"That's it," he said. "Now put your hands on my shoulders. Don't be shy."
I wanted to run. Wanted to scream. Wanted to do anything but this.
But Jeremy's face—his voice, telling me he'd be back in a few days—filled my mind.
If this kept him alive, of course I would do it.
I placed my hands on Antonio's shoulders. The fabric of his shirt was expensive silk. I could feel the muscles beneath. Tense. Powerful.
"Press harder," he commanded. "I'm not made of glass."
I pressed harder, trying to remember how the process was supposed to work. My hands moved in circles, applying pressure.
"That's better," Antonio said, his voice relaxing. "You're a natural. Or maybe Jeremy taught you this too?"
"No."
"No? Pity. I would have enjoyed imagining my nephew getting massages from his blind pet." He shifted slightly under my hands. "Tell me, Amelia. Did he ever touch you? Beyond that drunken kiss?"
I didn't answer.
"I'll take your silence as a no. How noble of him. How restrained." Antonio laughed. "That's his problem, you know. Too much restraint. Too much conscience. He could have had you that first night at Crimson, but he passed out instead. Could have claimed you properly after saving you from Miguel, but he sent you back to the bar like a gentleman." His voice hardened. "Weakness. All of it."
"It's not weakness to respect someone," I said quietly.
"Isn't it? In our world, respect is earned through power. Through taking what you want and holding onto it." He grabbed my wrist suddenly and pulled my hand from his shoulder to his chest. "Feel that? That's a heartbeat. Strong. Steady. Not conflicted, not hesitant. That's what real power feels like."
I tried to pull my hand away. He held it firm.
"Jeremy hesitates," Antonio continued. "Second-guesses himself. He lets sentiment cloud his judgement. That's why he needs someone like me. Someone who'll make the hard choices he can't make."
"Like threatening innocent people?"
"Like protecting the Family by any means necessary." He released my hand. "Keep massaging. Higher. Near my neck."
I moved my hands higher, my skin crawling with every touch.
"You know what I think, Amelia?" Antonio said after a moment. "I think you're going to be very useful. Not just for information about Jeremy. But as a reminder to him about what matters. About where his loyalties should lie."
"I don't understand."
"You will. When he comes back and finds you here, in my house, under my protection—" He chuckled. "It'll be fascinating to see how he reacts. Whether he prioritises getting you back or prioritizes Family business. Whether he's willing to negotiate for you, or whether he finally shows some backbone and tries to take you by force."
"You're using me to test him."
"I'm using you to teach him. There's a difference." Antonio sat up suddenly, dislodging my hands. "That's enough for tonight. You can go back to your room."
I stood quickly, grabbing my cane, desperate to get away.
"Amelia." His voice stopped me at the door. "We'll do this again tomorrow. Same time. This will continue the following day as well. And the pattern will continue every day until Jeremy returns home. Get used to it."
"This isn't—"
"This isn't what? Fair? Appropriate? Consensual?" He laughed. "This is survival, sweetheart. Yours and Jeremy's. You want to keep him alive? You do what I tell you. You comply with my instructions. Without complaint. Understood?"
I stood there, my hand on the doorknob, my every fibre screaming to refuse.
But I couldn't.
I couldn't refuse, especially if it meant Jeremy would die.
"Understood," I whispered.
"Good. Maria will show you back to your room. Sweet dreams."
I opened the door. Maria was waiting, as if she'd known. As if this was routine.
She led me back through the maze of hallways, up the stairs, to my beautiful prison of a room.
"Will you be needing anything else tonight, Miss Amelia?" she asked.
"No. Thank you."
The door closed. The door was locked from the outside, andI heard the click.
I made it to the bathroom before I started crying.
Quiet sobs that I muffled with a towel, because I knew somehow Antonio would enjoy knowing he'd broken me.
I'd thought I was trading my freedom for Jeremy's life.
Now I understood it was worse than that.
Antonio didn't just want information. He wanted control. Wanted to own me the way he wanted to own everything around him.
And I'd walked right into his trap.
Five days, Jeremy had been gone.
Five days, and everything had fallen apart.
Please come home, I thought desperately. Please come home soon.
But even if he did—
What would he find when he got here?
And would he still want to protect me once he knew what I'd agreed to?
What had I already done?
I cried until I had no tears left.
Then I lay in the enormous bed, in the dark that was the same as light, and waited for morning.
Knowing that tomorrow, Antonio would call me again.
And I would have to obey.
Because the alternative was worse.
The alternative was Jeremy's death.
And I would do anything—endure anything—to prevent that.
Even if it destroyed me in the process.