Page 56 of Crescendo (Beautiful Monsters #1)

I don’t expect her to comply so easily, but she shuffles past me, her head down, and takes the stool as far away from Mack as physically possible.

If I’m surprised by the obedient little show, Mack isn’t.

He merely watches, taking another sip of water; it’s the perfect display of captor and captive.

Once he swallows, however, he rubs at his chin. “I’ve been thinking...”

I cut my gaze over to him and feel my stance automatically open up. “About what?”

“Now now, Kitty. Don’t look so grumpy. I won’t renege on our bargain.

But, if she’s really willing to play dirty, then I need to see it for myself.

” He fishes into the pocket of his jeans and pulls a cell phone out.

“Call him,” he says to her, shoving the phone in her direction.

“If you’re so willing to turn on your master, then I want to see it—and hear it—for myself.

” He looks at me, and his expression isn’t mocking for once.

“After all, it’s easy to claim that you’d bite at your own leash but a bit harder to put into practice.

You know that better than anyone, eh, Kitty? ”

I don’t answer. Instead, I mull the request over. It makes sense in theory—but Mack doesn’t do shit without some other motive. Not that I really give a damn. The itch to just get this over with is too irritating to resist. “How do we know that he can’t fucking trace the call?”

Mack actually seems pissed off by the question. “As if I’d be that fucking stupid. Sammy programmed this baby himself. It’s a burner. Jesus fucking Christ wouldn’t be able to trace it.”

“Okay, then.” My eyes home in on the girl. “Do it.”

She keeps her face blank when she reaches for the cell phone—though I’m sure I’m the only one who notices how her fingers shake, and now, it makes fucking sense. Mack wants to see her break. He wants to see how she holds up when forced to confront Stacatto directly. Hell, maybe I do too.

Things rarely end well when a wild dog confronts its owner while off its leash.

One or the other has to assert their dominance: either the leash is wrapped back around the dog’s neck or the owner gets bitten.

Stacatto’s girl wrestles with her choice, her eyes wide, her soul hovering on the edge of flying away or staying to face her old master.

Before she can decide, I take a step toward her, coming just within the line of her peripheral vision. “Do it,” I grunt. “Call him.”

Her fingers tremble even more, but she curls them into fists. Just when I think she’ll refuse, she finally lets her thumb strike the call button on the contact Mack already pulled up .

The phone must be rigged to automatically turn the speaker on, because the sound of the dial tone echoes throughout the room and she doesn’t even need to lift the receiver to her ear. When a man’s gruff voice finally answers, he sounds crystal clear.

“Hello?”

The woman inhales. “G-Gino.” There’s a smattering of static from the other end as if the person holding the phone is adjusting it. “Can...can I talk to Vinny?” Her voice wavers slightly, but there’s a hardness to her expression. She doesn’t let it flicker, not even when the man, Gino, replies.

“Just one moment, Miss Manzano.”

All noise from the other end suddenly cuts off as if someone has placed their hand over the receiver right before they go to fetch the recipient of the call.

Stacatto’s woman waits patiently, her hands neatly folded.

Only her feet give her away; they aren’t primly crossed at the ankles now.

She’s grinding her toes into the bottom rung of her stool, balancing on the edge of control and terror.

“Lynn.” The newer voice carries an edge that makes even Arno and Mack sit straighter.

“Vinny,” the woman says softly.

“I’ve missed you...” Possession. It all but drips through the speakers and forms a noose around the woman’s neck, tightening with every octave the voice lowers.

“Tell me that this call means that those...monsters will let you come home.” He’s taunting her; the fucker knows damn well who the real monster is.

“No.” Hazel eyes home in on mine and never look away.

I know that expression. As long as she can’t picture his face, she’s fine—it’s the same tactic a child uses to ignore the monster under the bed.

“I don’t think I’ll be coming back any time soon, Vinny.”

Stacatto chuckles into the phone. “I received your present, Lynn.” The bittersweet tone suddenly gives way to a harsher growl. “That was my mother’s ring. ”

The woman swallows hard, and her feet leave the rung of the stool to kick at the air. “I...I just gave you what you wanted, Vinny,” she croaks. “My humiliation. Isn’t that right?”

He barks another harsh bit of laughter, but it’s colder than before. “I’ve only ever wanted your loyalty, Lynn. Your respect. Your fidelity. But do not fear... One day, I will earn those things from you.”

“Never,” she says, and just like for the camera, the woman flips her switch. Her eyes still won’t leave mine, but I don’t recognize the creature staring out from them anymore. “I’m never coming back. You will never own me again. Never .”

“Is that so?” Stacatto seems to mull her declaration over the same way one might a silly request from a naughty child who doesn’t know any better. “I’ve sent you a present of my own,” he adds, changing the subject. “Have they given it to you yet?”

I glance over at Mack, who shrugs.

“They haven’t,” Stacatto murmurs, and if his voice could hold anything resembling a human emotion, it might be.

..glee. “Show it to her, you motherfuckers. I know you’re listening in.

And, Lynn...” The sound from the other end changes.

He’s holding the receiver closer. I wouldn’t be surprised if his fingers were stroking the back of it and he were imagining them caressing the fragile line of her throat.

“I love you, Mi Bella . This has changed nothing between us, and when I find you...I will make you understand.”

He cuts off his end, and the sound makes the woman slump against the counter. Her face never changes though. Her mask remains firmly in place, but it’s cracking at the edges. When she looks at Mack, I can already see the dread she’s struggling to hide underneath it.

“What did he send?”

Mack rubs his chin thoughtfully. If his opinion of her has changed after the little telephone conference, he doesn’t reveal it. “ A rather entertaining video,” he says. “But it’s not exactly...suitable for a lady.”

“Show me it.” Her haughty tone cracks like a whip, but Mack doesn’t seem to mind the sting.

He grins, licking his lips. Then he stands and crosses over to her, reaching for the phone. “I’m merely obeying the lady’s request, Dante,” he snaps, his shoulders tensing just enough to warn anyone stupid enough to creep up on him that he’s ready to fight.

Only now do I realize that I’m already standing between him and the girl, forcing him to reach around me to fiddle with the phone’s screen. I don’t look back at her, but I can sense her stiffen; she’s uneasy by how close I am. The little bitch can only tolerate me when she’s being fucked, I guess.

“It’s in rather poor taste,” Mack admits as he slides the phone in her direction again and steps back. “I would have chosen better lighting.”

My eyes travel to the screen at the same time she sits forward, her bound hair falling over one shoulder.

The grainy display of a video appears. As Mack said, the lighting sucks.

Through the shadows of what appears to be a small room, it’s only possible to make out a woman braced against a floor on her hands and knees.

Red hair spills down her shoulders, but the rest of her face is too dark to make out.

“Say your name.” The commanding voice contains the same accent as Vincent Stacatto’s. He must be the one positioning the camera, because the lens begins to focus in on the woman—just enough to see the tears streaming down her face and the outline of a small nose.

“M-Maria,” she whispers.

When I hear the woman seated beside me gasp, I know she recognizes her.

“Open your mouth,” Stacatto commands the girl on camera. The shot is too tight to show his face, but I suspect that his hand is the one that appears, holding a glinting diamond ring.

The woman inhales sharply, but hell, even I recognize it. He must have fished it from Arno’s place before he set it on fire.

Maria starts to sob. “P-please—” Her plea is silenced when he shoves the ring through the part in her lips, sealing her mouth shut with his palm.

“You will watch this, Lynn,” Stacatto murmurs toward the camera. “All of it.”

The lens pans out, just enough to reveal the woman choking on a fourteen-karat ring while a larger man shoves her down and starts to tear at her clothes. “You will watch...”

“No!”

Mack’s phone goes flying off the bar and lands on the floor, batted away by a pale hand.

The fall isn’t enough to cut the video off, however.

Shrill screams erupt from the speaker but are drowned out by the sound of a stool toppling over and rolling across the floor.

A streak of black hair is my only warning to lunge, and I seize a handful of white cotton—but I’m not expecting the ferocity she fights me off with, and she claws at my fingers until they let go.

“I’ve got it,” I grit out to Mack and Arno before they can even move as Stacatto’s woman barrels through the doors of the bar.

She’s faster than I thought for someone so damn poised. She runs wild. Reckless. Fuck, she seems about ready to jump the fence when I finally catch up to her near the perimeter. My hand flies out, but I don’t have to touch her.

She stops in her tracks just as I come within reach. For nearly a minute, she just stands there, her back to me, her shoulders heaving...and then she screams.