Buttons and Lace (Buttons 1)

Bones turned to me, watching my expression. I wore a diamond necklace he gave me, along with a teal gown that complemented my fair skin and dark hair. It was long and made of satin, feeling soft against my legs. “What are you thinking?”

I kept my eyes on the room, looking at the sea of people. “I’m listening to them.”

“Why?”

“I love the way their accents sound. I love listening to the language.”

He switched from English to Italian, saying something to me I didn’t understand.

I stared at him blankly, unsure what he was trying to say.

When he saw the confusion in my eyes, he switched back to English. “I can teach you, if you like.”

It was hard to believe he could be so refined after the harsh things he did to me. All week, he took me in the evening. He still hit me, smacking my ass to get off, but he didn’t make me bleed like he used to. He still fucked me in the ass because he knew I hated it. He did unforgivable things, but they were never as bad as they were before. And when Alfonso came by the house for business, Bones refused to share me again.

I was most grateful for that.

This plan was working. Even if I couldn’t escape, at least my situation was better than it was before.

He continued to stare at me, waiting for a response.

I finally found the words. “I would love that. I would love to understand what people are saying.”

“The language is more beautiful when you don’t understand what people are saying,” he said with a chuckle. “English, Italian, French...it doesn’t matter. All people talk about the same things. They’re all evil.”

He was one to talk.

A butler approached us with one hand behind his back. “Wine? Champagne?”

I was never allowed to order for myself. Bones took care of everything. “We’ll have two glasses of wine. Nothing from the Barsetti vineyards.” His voice turned cruel when he said that last part. “Red.”

“Yes, sir.” The servant disappeared behind the curtain and retrieved the drinks. He was back a moment later, pouring an Italian bottle for the two of us to share. “Anything else, sir?”

“No.” Bones waved him off with the brush of a hand.

The servant left without another word.

I grabbed the glass and took a drink, needing alcohol to steel my nerves. I had to figure out a way to slip out of there. If I could leave his side for just a moment, I might find a way to escape. But I couldn’t rush it. I had to be patient. “Why don’t you like the Barsetti vineyards?”

“Because it’s horse piss.” He threatened me with just his tone, recoiling at the subject. “Now shut up and drink your wine.”

I tried not to flinch at his hostility and kept my gaze down. I’d broached a subject he didn’t like to discuss, and I would lock that information away for another time.

It might be useful.

Chapter Eleven

Crow

“The lights are off, and the curtain just opened.” Cane peeked through the small divider in the ceiling. “We’re good to go.”

I pulled the panel and slid it across the rest of the ventilation duct, opening a foot of space. We looked directly over the people in the audience, on the left-hand side of the stage. The opera singer’s loud voice echoed right in the passage, making our ears ring.

“She sounds like shit,” Cane said. “I don’t get opera.”

I liked it. If I didn’t hate people so much, I would go more often. “Shut up, and let’s do this.”

He pulled out the extender with the camera at the end. He dangled it outside the panel, over the crowd but flush to the ceiling so no one would notice.

I pulled out my phone and checked the screen, seeing the feed from the camera in real time. “More to the right.”

Cane hit the buttons on the extender, adjusting the camera.

“Zoom in.”

He focused the lens, capturing the balcony where Bones and his date sat.

“A little more to the right.”

He growled under his breath and made the adjustments. “It’s good, right?”

I changed the light settings on the screen so the picture was a better quality. When I got them both in the frame, I froze. I hadn’t seen Bones since that evening, and when I looked at him, I was reminded of the rage bottled deep inside me. I pictured how he pulled that pistol out of his jacket and shot Vanessa right in the back of the head.

My hands shook.

“It’s good?” Cane repeated.

My eyes shifted to the woman beside him. In a teal gown, handmade by a designer himself, it fit her slim body like it was made just for her. She had petite, rounded shoulders and arms that were thin but toned. She did some kind of activity in her spare time, archery or mountain climbing. The balcony enclosure hid most of her lower body from view.