Beautifully Brutal ( Cavalieri Della 1)

The only thing I need to make sure of is that I can run from the convent building to the gate before anyone notices I’m gone. On my walk this morning, I planned out my path toward the exit. Now, all I need is time on my side.

Hopefully, I can get out and find my way home. If there’s one thing I learned from my father, it’s that you shouldn’t give up on something. All my life I’ve watched him take from others, and it didn’t matter the consequence. He would bask in the satisfaction.

Yesterday, after I’d spoken to him, I made sure I sounded happy to be here. I gave him a sense of security that his little girl is safely tucked away, but I’m no longer that child who obeys without question.

Arthur may have planned to keep me here forever. Maybe he thinks I’m safer locked away. But by midnight, I’ll be gone. Undetected until morning, or at least, for the first couple of hours. Once I’m off the property, I can make a run for it.

I’m not yet sure where I’ll go, but my thoughts drift back to New Orleans and Lance’s house that sits at the end of Bourbon Street. It was the one place I felt alive. I felt safe and protected. Perhaps it was because Lance himself was my keeper. If I can just get to his house, I’ll be okay. I’ll ask him to help me disappear. Even though he doesn’t want me anymore, I know he’ll help.

Lance knows my father better than anyone. He knows what a monster Arthur can be, and he can’t deny me freedom, even when he’s never had his own.

Rising from my bed, I grab my rosary, lacing it over my neck and heading out to the central part of the convent. The space is vast. The walls are open brick, which strangely offers warmth, but it’s rough and rugged at the same time.

The moment I step foot in the garden, I see him. Daddy. He’s smiling at Father Eugene, but all I see is the manipulative, calculating way he has about him. Showing off his kind, affectionate exterior, while in his mind he’s working out how to fuck with someone until they beg for death.

Strolling toward them, I focus my gaze on my father. He turns to me as soon as I near them, offering me the same, sardonic grin I recall from my years growing up with a monster.

“Daddy.” I smile, uttering the word sarcastically.

“There’s my little girl.” He grins down at me, pulling me into his arms as if he cares. The cold heart that beats in his chest is nothing more than a lump of coal. He doesn’t feel unless it’s when he’s having someone taken down. Sending men out to do the dirty work, he finds pleasure in seeing them obey like sheep.

And that’s what Lance was, and probably still is, for Arthur. A soldier who owed him a life. I know my father saved Lance as a young boy, took him in and made sure he was fed and looked after. But as I said, my father is a calculating monster. He only did those things so he could have a hold over Lance.

“I didn’t think you’d be here today,” I tell him as Father Eugene offers us a goodbye and leaves my daddy and me to walk around the gardens. The day is warm, offering a stifling heat that sears through the dark material I’m wearing. I should’ve put something else on, but since I have to play the part for Arthur’s benefit, and this will be my daily attire, I figured I’d be as manipulative as my father.

“I’m happy that you’ve come to your senses, Giuliana.” His words sting, but I don’t let it show. Emotion is not my father’s strong suit, and dealing with mine is the last thing he wants. I grew up learning how to be cold, how not to let my pain, fear, or sadness show. That’s what my father taught me.

“I wouldn’t call it coming to my senses,” I utter icily as we settle on the bench that sits under one of the trees closest to the back of the church. I reach for my rosary. I’m not sure why, but right now, it offers me comfort.

My father’s next words send cold shivers over me, but he doesn’t look at me when he says it. “I told him you’re not coming home.”

I’m on my feet in seconds at his confession. “What?” My body vibrates with anger. Rage fills my veins, reminding me of who I am—a Calthorpe.

“Lance wasn’t surprised.” He shrugs nonchalantly. His cold gaze lands on me in a challenge, and I know he’s lying. Another thing I learned from daddy dearest is how to pick out when someone is bullshitting. His telltale sign is the flinch in his left eye when he’s trying to persuade someone of something that’s not true.

“You’re lying, Daddy,” I bite out through clenched teeth, feeling the tension tighten my jaw. My hands fist painfully. Feeling my nails dig into the soft flesh of my palms to keep from slapping my father, I continue, “He would never—”

“Forget about Lance Knight,” my father growls, his expression turning hard, filled with equal amounts of fear and anger. “He’s not good for you.”

“And you know what’s good for me? Locking me away in a fucking convent?”

“You say it like I’ve sentenced you to prison.” He chuckles darkly, and I know my father wouldn’t think twice about doing just that. He’d happily keep me in a dungeon if he wanted to. Knowing him, I’d probably get a cell in the lower level of the mansion he loves so much.

“You wouldn’t know what it feels like having your choices taken away from you, Daddy.” I grit out the word, spitting it as if it burns my tongue. “You want to rule everyone around you. What you don’t realize is people aren’t meant to be ruled. They should be free to choose what they want.”

He rises. His hands behind his back as if he’s about to give me a speech. Or perhaps he’s holding his hands there to keep from hitting me. My father has never struck me, but I wouldn’t put it past him. Towering over me, he responds, “You’ve chosen your path. There’s no turning back now.”

“You’ve forced this on me!” Pressing my index finger into his chest, I prod him, reminding him that I’m still here and it’s not of my own free will. “This isn’t the life I wanted. I don’t want it even now.”

“And what? You want to marry Lance? You want a fairytale happy ending where you end up pregnant while he goes out killing people for me?” It’s the first time my father has ever been brutally honest about his work, and it leaves me speechless. All my fight whooshes out in a hot breath, and I have nothing more to say to him. “I didn’t think so.” He’s satisfied he just emotionally fucked with me. Punching me in the gut with mere words.

Turning on my heel, I head back toward the convent. I can’t look at him right now. I can’t allow him to see me cry. This is ridiculous. All I need is to let Lance know I didn’t choose this. My mind is made up. I’m getting out of here, and I will find the man I love and ensure he knows as much.

“Giuliana.” My name on my father’s lips comes like a venom coursing through my veins. His tone is low and dangerous, but there’s one thing I’m also not going to do anymore, and that’s bow down to my father. I don’t turn to look at him, but I halt my steps, waiting for him to apologize.

Giving him an out, I wait for him to finally give me the option to choose a life I want, rather than be forced to

live out a lonely existence that will never afford me happiness.