Chapter 2 Chapter Two
Lila POV
The gunshots stopped as fast as they started then the house went dead quiet, only the waves kept crashing far below. My right hand was still tied and my wrist bled a little where the silk had cut but I didn’t move. Matteo stood by the door, holding his gun low, eyes on me.
“Stay still,” he ordered but I didn’t answer.
He walked to the balcony, looked out and listened for a while, then he came back and put the gun on the table. He picked up the red silk rope that had held my left wrist.
“You’re fast,” he said. “But not fast enough.”
He grabbed my free hand and tied it tighter this time, knotting it twice.
He wiped the blood from his cheek with his thumb and looked at it. “Two men are dead on the lawn... my men. Someone sent a message.”
I swallowed. “Let me go. I didn’t do this.”
He let out a short and mean laugh. “They think I care who pulled the trigger? You’re here and you’re mine. That’s the message.”
He walked to a closet and pulled out a long red silk gown. “Wear this. The wedding will begin at dawn.”
I stared back. “No,” my eyes dark with fear.
He tossed it on the bed. “Put it on or I put it on you.”
I shook my head slowly which made him sigh. Then he grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. “Your father stole three million, and he signed his life away. You want to argue? Then I burn Palermo, starting with Club Nero, then Sofia’s school, then your old apartment. You want that?”
My stomach twisted when he mentioned Sofia. She didn’t know about Dad’s deals.
I looked away from him. “Don’t you go near her.”
“Good girl.” He untied my right wrist fast but before I could swing he grabbed both my hands and tied them in front of me now. It was loose enough to move but tight enough to control.
“Walk.” He pulled me off the bed, my bare feet hitting the cold marble. He led me down the hall past the gold lamps, past the closed doors and down the cold and dark stone stairs.
We stopped at a thick rusty metal door leading to a dungeon. He opened it with a key from his pocket and there were chains on the walls, one metal chair, table and a black screen on the wall.
“What is this place,” I said, my voice trembling. But before I could get a response, he pushed me into the chair and tied my hands to the armrests.
“Watch this,” his tone was rough.
He pressed a button and the screen lit up and it was a video of my dad, six months ago. It was night at a dock and there were crates... Russo Imports. He loaded cash into a small bag, a nervous look on his face. He looked at the camera once like he knew it was there.
Then there was another clip of Dad in a warehouse, counting money and stacking it. And another of Dad signing the ledger in red ink... his thumbprint.
Then the screen went black.
Matteo stood behind me, his hands on my shoulders. “He didn’t just steal money, he stole my trust. My men died because of him. Now you have to pay.”
I turned my head. “He’s my father.”
“Was.” His fingers dug in. “Now he’s a ghost and you’re the debt.”
He let go and walked to a shelf, pulling down a box. He opened it and inside was a white long veil.
He held it up. “For the wedding.”
I laughed, couldn’t help it. “You must be crazy.”
He smiled. “Maybe.” Then he walked behind me and untied my hands. “Upstairs. Now.” It was a simple order that I dared not disobey.
We walked down to a dressing room with mirrors and lights, then he pushed me inside and locked the door shut.
I stood silently, staring the red gown, its silk cold and heavy. I needed to play smart.
I took off the my torn bodysuit and let it fall, standing only in my underwear. Then I slid it over my skin like water. It fit perfect as if he measured me in my sleep.
I looked at myself in the mirror and I hated that I looked like a bride.
The door opened and Matteo walked in now dressed in a black suit with no tie, his hair wet. He looked at me slowly from my head to my feel, a small smirk tugging at the end of his lips.
“Beautiful,” he said but I didn’t answer.
He picked up the veil and walked behind me to put it on me, his fingers brushed my neck. Lingered.
He leaned closer and whispered in my ear. “I’ll make you hate me. Then you’ll beg me.”
I turned fast, my elbow to his ribs, making him grunt. He caught my arm and twisted it behind my back, pushing me against the mirror.
“Careful,” he said. “I bite back.”
His mouth was on my neck, his teeth trying to dig lightly. I tried to push him again but I missed.
He laughed out loud, a mocking sound.
“Time to go.”
He took my arm and dragged me out down the hall to double wooden doors.