Ruthless Prince (Dark Syndicate 1)

Although they were far away, I noticed the way he was around her too. She is blond and pretty, has an enviable body. Definitely his type. Probably the kind of woman too he wouldn’t treat the way he treated me.

So, maybe this is it. We’ll get married, and he’ll have her and maybe others like her. I shouldn’t feel anything close to jealousy, but I guess it was wrong for me to hope that whenever the day came for me to get married, I’d marry someone who loved me.

I can’t believe the way he treated me earlier. He spanked me and ripped off my clothes, then he said he didn’t want my love. How stupid of me to say such a thing, though, when he had whatever meetup he had with a woman who looked like a Barbie doll.

I move from the window and wipe away a tear with the heel of my hand. I almost trip over the fucking sheet I’ve had to wrap myself in.

I walk to the bed and sit on the edge, looking around the room. It’s going to be another day of nothingness. Another day of shit.

The only difference between yesterday and today is that I have more shit on my mind.

The woman on the beach with Massimo pissed me off, but what I’ve been thinking about since he left was what he said about Dad.

Massimo spoke like he knew my father very well. He spoke with confidence in his words.

I want to know what Dad did to him. To them. The D’Agostinos. In his office were both Massimo and his father. His father would not have been there if he didn’t have some vendetta against my father too.

So, what was it?

What happened?

When did it happen?

Massimo called my father a liar and a thief. What did he lie about? What did he steal?

And is Dad broke if he owes so much money? He must be. I know this whole thing with me would never have happened if he weren’t broke. His behavior back home was that of a desperate man. That’s what I remember. The way he gripped my hand screamed desperati

on.

He’s done his best to keep me out of business, so I don’t really know much of anything. I know what I’m supposed to know because it’s most often what I’m told in terms of safety and what Jacob told me, but that’s all.

To my knowledge, Dad’s supposed to be a multi billionaire. I must have been wrong and truly living in the dark because there was also what Massimo said about my life.

He said that my life wouldn’t have turned out the way I wanted. That Dad would have sold me to someone else. I don’t believe that. I’m stuck on that part because my father has always been so protective over me. He loved me. You would only protect someone the way he protected me if you loved them.

He even got worked up over guys I might have been interested in dating. Behold, that’s why I’ve never been kissed. And shit, my life was probably comparable to living in a convent. Minus the nuns. I had Jacob, but there was always a constant supply of people watching and making sure I was safe.

Massimo must have been lying. There’s no way I’m going to believe a monster over what I know my father to be. He was just telling me bullshit to piss me off.

But if it was all bullshit, then why do I feel deep down that there’s some element of truth to it? The keyhole rattles. I tense up. My poor body has now been conditioned to become anxious when I hear that sound.

The door opens. I relax a little when Priscilla comes in with a tray of food. Before she can say good morning, my stomach rumbles loudly. She smiles.

I’m not surprised to hear my stomach griping. I haven’t eaten anything since that pizza and the double chocolate shake I had with Jacob. That was two days ago. I’ve had sips of water. That’s all. I’m so hungry now I could eat a cow.

Priscilla smiles wider when I offer her a kind one.

“Good morning, signora,” she says.

“Good morning.”

She looks me over wrapped in the sheet. I wonder what she must think. If I were her, I’d probably assume correctly that I’m naked under it, but then my mind would race over why I might not have clothes on. Maybe she thinks I spent the night with Massimo.

“Yesterday, I was easy on you. I don’t plan to be anything of the sort today,” she states, and her accent becomes more pronounced. “You need to eat something.”

“Okay… I will.”

Pricilla sets the tray of food down on the little table by the dresser. I see she’s prepared some treats. There are sandwiches, just like yesterday, but also cookies and little macaroons.