I smiled arrogantly. “I will choose the bite of cold steel over the touch of your unworthy hands any day, Remo Falcone.”
His eyes flashed with surprise, respect … and terrifying excitement. “I will enjoy your screams.”
“Remo, this is enough,” Dante ordered.
Remo only stared at me, murmuring, “We have only just begun.” Without a warning he gripped me, whirled me around, and jerked me against his body—his chest, every inch of him pressing against my back and ass. His hand cupped my chin, tilting my head up so I was forced to look at him. He wanted to see my eyes, my expression, my fear and terror when he made me scream.
I returned his gaze with all the hatred and disgust I could summon. I hoped I’d be strong enough to deprive him of my screams, prayed for it. “Where would you like to feel my blade?”
He held the gleaming steel right before my eyes, letting me see the sharp edge of it. I had seen that both Remo’s and Nino’s Camorra tattoos covered scars on their forearms. Maybe it meant something, maybe not. I had nothing to lose at this point.
“Or did you change your mind about your choice? Will you pay with your body after all?”
I didn’t trust my voice because terror clogged my throat, and Remo could see it. I gripped his wrist and guided the knife to my arm until the cool blade touched the soft skin of my forearm, close to my veins.
Something flickered in Remo’s eyes and triumph filled me, because for some reason this spot got to him. I kept my hand on his as the blade rested against my sensitive skin.
Remo pressed and I tensed at the slight burn, but he wasn’t really cutting yet—as if he couldn’t bring himself to do it. I couldn’t believe it was because he had reservations about hurting me; this was the cruelest man in the west after all. And it definitely wasn’t because he couldn’t bear to destroy my unblemished skin. I was sure he’d love to be the first to leave a mark. There was something else holding him back, something dark and powerful. I pushed against his hand, pushed it down on my arm, and the blade cut my skin, but Remo resisted.
I searched his dark eyes, wondering what went on in their depths, terrified of ever finding out. Remo’s eyes hardened, turned harsh, brutal, and finally he pressed the blade down and it cut through my skin. Sharp pain burned through me, and I shook under the force of it, my hand still on top of his as he drew the knife across my skin, but not stopping him. For some reason his eyes reflected my pain as if he could feel it more profoundly than I did.
Remo released my chin, his arm snaking around my waist to keep me upright, but I kept my head tilted up, my eyes burning into his. I bit down on my lower lip as a scream clawed up my throat. Copper filled my mouth. Then it spilled over my lip, down my chin.
Remo stopped the blade, something in his eyes keeping me frozen.
“Enough!” Dad roared. “Stop it. Stop it now!”
Remo’s brows drew together as our gazes remained locked. He released my waist and stepped back. My legs buckled, and I fell to the ground, my knees colliding with the hard floor. I barely registered the pain. I sat back on my haunches as I cradled my arm in my lap. The cut wasn’t as deep as I thought, but blood soaked my silver satin gown, and the blood from my lip quickly joined it. I looked up to see Remo turning off the camera then the screen. Samuel’s desperate face disappeared from view.
Nino stood against the wall, his eyes on my wrist and an unsettling expression on his face. Remo had his back turned to me, facing his brother, but his shoulders were heaving.
I forced my body to stand, despite the shaking of my legs, and let my bleeding arm hang in front of me on display.
Nino tore his gaze away and stared at Remo. I wasn’t sure what passed between them, not sure I ever wanted to find out.
Remo slowly turned his head, his cruel eyes meeting mine, dark pools of rage leaving me breathless. For once he didn’t smirk or smile, didn’t look superior or furious. He looked almost confused in his own terrifying, otherworldly way.
And I swore to myself that no matter the price, no matter what it would cost me, one day I would be the one to bring Remo Falcone to his knees, the one to break the cruelest man I knew.
CHAPTER 6
REMO
Nino’s expression was strained, but he wasn’t about to lose his shit again. He was staring into my eyes, no longer at Serafina. He swallowed then the cold mask took hold of his face and he straightened. My eyes fell to the scars on his wrist covered by our tattoo, then to similar scars on my skin, not as straight, not as focused. I almost touched the fucking scar over my eyebrow like I’d done in the weeks after…