Enthralled (The Enslaved Duet 1)

“Seb, don’t you think it’s odd that he does that?” I asked.

I’d never put much thought to it before then. Salvatore’s infrequent but influential presence in our lives had seemed ordinary in the smaller context of my life in Italy, but now that I was away and I’d learned the manipulation and games men played, I couldn’t help to wonder what Salvatore’s end game was.

Sebastian snorted. “I don’t think mafia men are exactly known for doing the obvious sorts of things, Cosi. I think he’s a man without children who discovered us through Seamus and took a shining to our family. He dotes on Mama just as much as he does us, when she lets him.”

That was true, though Mama would sooner bite the hand that tried to feed her than accept what he was offering. To say she was not fond of the Made Man was putting it mildly.

Another puzzle I’d never thought to piece together.

“Anyway, his gift was the highlight of my day. So much for celebrating our birthday together.”

I winced even though I’d known he would say as much. “It was too good an opportunity to pass up, but I am sorry I missed it. Sorrier than I can really say.”

“You sound very unhappy,” he noted.

In some ways, as happy as I was to hear my male voice echoed back at me, I wished it was one of my sisters or Mama who had answered.

“It’s been grueling work,” I admitted. “I’m not sleeping enough, and the man I’m working for is a monster.”

“Well, if the money you are sending to Mama is any indication, it’s worth your sacrifice. Cosima, we have more than we know what to do with,” he said before gifting me his bold laugh.

“How much is it?” I asked before I could curb myself, hoping he wouldn’t wonder why I didn’t know if I was the one sending it. “I’ve had them set up a direct deposit, you see, and I’m curious it’s everything I thought it would be.”

“Five thousand pounds,” he crowed, and I used the opportunity to let out a gusty sigh. The sum meant that Alexander was sending a monthly allowance that would amount to the three hundred thousand he has promised to send to them each year. “Honestly, Mama fainted when it appeared in her account the first month. When it was there the second time, she almost took out Elena when she fainted again.”

Despite everything, I found myself smiling at the thought. “I’m glad. Now, tell me what you are putting the money toward.”

“Giselle’s tuition is paid through the year, and she has an allowance now that she informed me meant she could by acrylics.” We both laughed as we imagined her excitement about procuring the expensive paints. “Elena bought her own second-hand computer and has enrolled in online classes at Università di Bologna in law. We repaid the last of Seamus’s debts with creditors in town and with the Camorra, but Cosima, you should know something. We haven’t seen Seamus since August.”

I closed my eyes again and silently let out a breath of relief that I hadn’t known I was holding the past few weeks.

“Grazie a Dio,” I said, thanking God. “We’ve been wishing him gone since the beginning of my memories. Please don’t tell me that you’re saddened by this.”

“Don’t be insulting. I spent too much on a bottle of grappa, and believe it or not, I shared it with Elena.”

“You didn’t,” I said with a laugh, sinking back into the copious number of pillows lining the headboard of the bed.

Neither Seb nor Giselle got along very well with our eldest sister, and I couldn’t exactly blame them. Elena was the type of woman who believed that elegance was more important than feeling, intelligence surpassed passion, and if you wanted to know what was in her heart, you had to earn it.

Sebastian and Giselle were more easily led by the beautiful hearts they wore on their sleeves.

Once, I’d been like them, but I had always understood Elena and her philosophies.

A woman should not be easy to know for mystery was half of her power.

“And Cosima, something else has happened.”

“You published one of your stories?” I asked in the high voice of an excited young girl, but I didn’t care.

My environment had disappeared, and even the imaginary shackles I wore seemed nearly non-existent. My mind was back home in Napoli with my family.

Sebastian laughed. “No, Cosi, but you know the play I’ve been doing in Roma?”

I bit my lip, trying to remember one of the many amateur productions my brother had been participating in before I left.

“You don’t remember, and that’s fine. The moral of the story is, a theatre company director from London was visiting, and he approached me after the play. It seems he runs Finborough Theatre. He wants me to move to London to pursue an acting career as a principle at his company.”