Grabbing the wastepaper bin, I turned it over and climbed up, shoving the glass open as far as it would go. Beyond the window was a dark alley that ran down the side of the opera house. My heart pounded out a staccato beat as I waited for the door to explode open, for Giovanni to trap me like the devil he was and drag me back to hell. But he didn’t. The only sound was the low hum of music from the ballroom. I pulled myself up on the narrow ledge and debated taking off my shoes, but I’d rather break an ankle than go barefoot in a New York alley.
I squeezed through the gap, the material of my dress snagging on a catch with a defined rip as I lay down and slid sideways through the narrow opening. Breath hissed through my teeth as my wounded leg pressed against the wooden frame, my hips barely fitting through. I’d always been jealous of Chiara’s butt, but right now, I was grateful for my lack of an ass. I could only imagine the humiliation of Giovanni finding me wedged in a window.
The dim glow of a streetlight cast shadows over a dumpster right below the window. I clung to the ledge, breaking a nail and scraping my hands before I landed on top of it, then scrambled to the ground, all without breaking my ankle. Elation washed through me, the garbage-tainted air suddenly seeming so fresh, so free. Now all I had to do was get the hell out of New York before Giovanni found me.
14
Emilia
My tentative optimism was short-lived. The second I took a step toward the mouth of the alley, a figure separated from the darkness, stepping into my path. His arms were folded over his chest, the low light playing through red hair. Tommy. Letting out a sigh, I tried to hide the crushing sense of defeat. I should have known Giovanni would never just let me go to the bathroom on my own.
“You just lost me a hundred bucks, kid.”
“You bet I wouldn’t try and escape?”
He shrugged. “Thought you knew better than to think he wouldn’t be prepared.”
I frowned. “You know, you could just let me go. I can… I can pay you—”
“No, you can’t.”
My temper reared its head. “And if I could? Would that make you less inclined to hand me over to be married and bedded against my will?”
His brows crumpled as he took a step toward me. “Gio isn’t a bad guy, Emilia. He’s certainly not going to rape you—”
“Just marry me and take my freedom?” Funny how one seemed abhorrent to him but the other didn’t. Truthfully, I’d rather give my body than my freedom.
He let out a sigh and looked past me as though he could direct his frustration at the brick walls surrounding us. “I saw one of your father’s capos put a gun to your head, Emilia.” His gaze snapped back to mine, the green of his irises bright in the darkness. “You think if you escape, that will be it? That you’ll skip off into the sunset? Gio is the lesser of all your evils here.”
The unfairness of it all suddenly felt like a lead weight crushing me. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
He stepped forward, and before I could object, he pulled me into a hug. I went limp in his arms as tears threatened.
“I’m sorry. It’s not right, but I promise you, he won’t hurt you. He protects those who are loyal to him.”
I wasn’t, though, and I never truly would be. They both had to know that.
“Come on.” He pulled away and slung an arm around my shoulders, leading me down the alley. “He’ll be wondering where you are.”
“You were waiting for me, Tommy. I’d say he knows exactly where I am.”
“Well, he can’t say you aren’t a fighter, sweetheart.”
He walked me around the front of the building and back inside the glittering ballroom as though he’d just happened upon me.
Day by day, move by failed move, I was losing hope. I might never escape, and then I’d be forced to make a choice that wasn’t really a choice.
Giovanni’s expression gave nothing away as Tommy pulled out my chair.
“Thank you, Tommy,” I said through gritted teeth as I smoothed my dress beneath my thighs.
And then he left. I wanted to hate Tommy every bit as much as I hated his boss, but it was impossible. There was something about him that spoke of kindness in a world where I’d rarely experienced it, and I wished he could stay instead of leaving me to the wolves, or rather, wolf. If anyone else at the table wondered why I was being escorted back from the bathroom, they didn’t say anything.
I refused to look at Giovanni, focusing on the plate of food that had been served in my absence. Lamb shank and vegetables. A fancy version, of course. Fingers brushed my chin, and Giovanni forced my gaze to his, thumb swiping the corner of my lip.