Chapter 2 - The Unveiling
The Morretti estate was a sprawling, gothic fortress perched on the edge of the Atlantic cliffs, heavily guarded by men holding automatic weapons. When the convoy halted, Luca did not wait for his soldiers. He opened my door himself, extending a leather-gloved hand. I ignored it, stepping out into the freezing wind on my own.
He escorted me through the grand mahogany doors into a cavernous foyer. Dozens of armed capos and silent house staff stood in the periphery, watching the enemy’s daughter step into their domain.
“Take her to the master suite,” Luca ordered an older woman in a severe black dress. “And do not let her leave.”
He turned on his heel and disappeared into his study.
The housekeeper led me up a sweeping marble staircase and into a room that was larger than my entire wing at the Vance estate. The door shut behind me with a heavy, metallic click. I was trapped. But as I stood in the center of the dark, opulent room, an unexpected wave of relief washed over me. For the first time in twenty-two years, my father’s ghost was not hovering in the corridors.
An hour later, the handle turned. Luca stepped into the room. He had discarded his suit jacket and tie, leaving his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar.
“Still wearing the dress?” he asked, his dark eyes locking onto me. “Were you expecting me to peel it off you?”
“I cannot reach the buttons,” I said softly.
It was the absolute truth. The silk-covered buttons ran from the nape of my neck down to the base of my spine.
Luca paused. His cruel smirk faded into a look of mild irritation. He crossed the room, stopping just behind me. “Turn around.”
I turned my back to him, staring blankly at the roaring fireplace. I felt the heat of his body behind me. His large, calloused fingers brushed the lace at the back of my neck. I instinctively flinched, my shoulders jumping up toward my ears.
His hands stopped. “I haven’t even done anything yet, Seraphina. Is the mafia princess really that fragile?”
I clenched my jaw until it ached. “Just unbutton the dress, Luca.”
He began working the tiny pearls through their loops. As the top of the dress loosened, the heavy satin fell away from my shoulders. Then, he reached the middle of my back. The dress parted completely, exposing my bare skin to the cool air of the bedroom.
Behind me, Luca’s hands abruptly stopped moving. His breath hitched—a sharp, ragged sound in the quiet room.
May you like
I closed my eyes. There, spanning across my shoulder blades and wrapping around my ribs, was a horrific tapestry of abuse. Deep, jagged silver scars from a leather strap. Circular, puckered burns. A massive, purpling bruise from Julian that had required the corset just to keep me upright.
The silence in the room became absolute.
