“They’re going to make you their queen, aren’t they?” she questions, drawing my attention back to her.
My brows crease as I watch her. “What’s that even supposed to mean? Being their queen?”
She looks at me in that same ‘you’re a naive little brat who doesn’t deserve what she’s got’ way before letting out a heavy sigh. “It means that once they overtake their father’s reign, they will make sure that not only they worship you, but the whole fucking company does. You will be the center of everyone’s world and in return, you will have the biggest target on your back.”
I scoff, not at all impressed. “I’ve worn a target on my back since the second they brought me into this world.”
Ariana laughs. “You think the target you’ve had now is bad, just you wait. Gia Moretti will want you dead. So will all of Giovanni’s brothers and nephews. And while you’re stupid enough to think Roman, Levi, and Marcus are invincible, they won’t be able to save you from this, and they will have nobody but themselves to blame.”
I swallow hard and glance away, not wanting her to see just how much her words have struck a deep fear within me. Every day with those boys is a game of survival, hell, look at me now. I’m rotting in their father’s desert cells next to a dead woman. I won’t survive a life worse than this. It’s one thing finding the strength to kill my father, but living a life like this every single day is bound to take its toll.
“Were you con—” I cut myself off hearing the telltale sounds of someone storming through the front door above us. The heavy footsteps warn us that it’s a man and my gaze instantly flicks toward Ariana to find her just as nervous as I feel.
She holds a finger up, warning me to keep my mouth shut as we strain to listen to the noises above, as there’s only one reason someone would show up here. “Where is she?” the voice demands.
My back stiffens. There’s something familiar about his tone, but I can’t quite place it. Judging by the way Ariana’s face turns a ghostly shade of white, she knows exactly who it is.
“Down there,” one of our jailers responds.
My eyes remain locked on Ariana’s as she watches me back, horror clear in her eyes as she begins to shake her head. “Is that Giovanni?” I question, my blood turning cold with every step the man takes leading him toward the basement door.
“No,” she murmurs, her voice shaking with fear as we hear his hand on the doorknob, slowly twisting. Her eyes widen and as if snapping out of her terror-filled trance, she scrambles back in her cell. “Play dead,” she whispers.
“What?” I rush out, certain that I didn’t hear her correctly. Why the fuck would I play dead if someone is coming down here? How could I possibly protect myself like that?
“For fu—Just … for once in your miserable life just do what I’m asking. He’s not here for you,” she spits as the door begins to open and her eyes cut to the top of the stairs. “He wants me. Play. Dead.”
His heavy boot hits the top step and fear rattles through my chest at seeing just how terrified she is of this man, and against my better judgment, I drop my body to the ground and hope to whoever exists above that this doesn’t get me killed.
3
My body drops against Felicity’s decaying corpse, my neck twisted at an awkward angle, and I do everything I can not to breathe her in. Her hair presses against my cheek and the strong scent of death plays havoc against my nose. Tears sting my eyes as my heart races with the unknown.
I don’t like this one little bit.
The sound of heavy footsteps on the old, rickety stairs fills the cells, each step echoing through the basement with a haunting bang. I can’t help the need to peer through my thick lashes, keeping an eye on Ariana. If she truly thought this guy was coming for her, then why the hell would she tell me to play dead? Is this her version of protecting me? But that can’t be right. It was only a handful of weeks ago that she was telling Lucas Miller where to find me with explicit instructions that I wasn’t to come out of it alive, and Lucas was more than willing to oblige. Shame he was a total idiot. If only she knew how to choose a killer with a brain, then perhaps I wouldn’t be here right now.
Funny how life has its brutal little ways of turning my life to complete shit.
Ariana’s face drains of all color and she looks up at the descending man as though the devil personally invited him. The stairs lead down past my cell so all I see are his obnoxious, expensive shoes and black suit pants, getting a little more leg with every step he walks down. Though by the time he reaches halfway, his hands are dangling by his side, and I find big, gold rings decorating his short, chunky fingers.
This dude is definitely Mafia. There’s no doubt about it. He gives off Giovanni vibes, but … extra, as though he’s trying to make up for something that he’s lacking, and considering where he is, I can guarantee he’s lacking a whole lot.
Ariana digs her feet into the ground and pushes back, getting further and further away, and within mere seconds, her back presses into the furthest corner of her cell. My heart races, violently hammering in my chest. Ariana has always been so put together, even when Marcus pinned her to her door with a knife through her hand, but this woman I see in the opposite cell is a complete stranger. It takes no brain at all to realize that she’s been abused by this man before.
She looks back at me, and for the first time, I fear for her. The ghost in her eyes gives away her darkest secrets, and the subtle shake of her head and desperation in her features warns me that what’s about to happen needs to stay within the confines of this cell.
After three more steps, the man hits the basement floor and I see him for what he is—a short, stumpy, egotistical asshole who thinks the world owes him pussy and respect, only they’re the two things he can’t get without throwing money at it.
He immediately begins scanning the cells and I close my eyes just enough to peer through my long lashes while keeping up the dead ruse. My body goes still, and I focus on taking shallow breaths and holding them as long as I can, determined not to allow my chest to rise and fall and get me in all kinds of trouble. It would be just my luck to get myself killed due to the fact that I need oxygen.
The man turns in the opposite direction of Ariana’s cell and makes his way toward me, and as he comes closer and steps under the dangling fluorescent light, I’m struck with a familiar face … only this one has slight changes.
A shorter, younger, and less handsome version of Giovanni stands before me, his gaze narrowed on my body as he tries to determine what the fuck went down in here.
This is clearly one of his four brothers, but it’s impossible to tell which. I’ve never had the displeasure of meeting any of them, nor do I ever intend to. My guess is that they’re just like Giovanni, only worse as they have something to prove to live up to the enormous shadow their eldest brother has cast over them.
He hovers close to the cell door, and I’m not lost on the knowledge that he would have a key somewhere buried in that expensive suit of his, though I’m not stupid enough to try and get it now. I’m too far from the cell door and would lose my element of surprise before I made it close enough to strangle him.