Page 8 of Forgive Me, Father (Don #1)

EIGHT

THE LITTLE RUNAWAY

I drank from the bottle until the taste started to shift, becoming surprisingly sweet. And hated the moment it was finished.

My head spun, the world blurring around me, and before I knew it, I was drifting into a deep sleep.

The next morning, I awoke still wearing my jeans and jersey. Someone pulled the blanket over me, and I could only assume who had done so.

Then I saw it—the velvet black box sitting on the bedside table, impossible to miss, like it had been waiting for me to open my eyes.

But I didn’t need to look inside.

I could feel it.

My gaze dropped to my left hand, and there they were, the rings, already warm against my skin, as if they'd always belonged there. A smile tugged at my lips, unfamiliar and shaky, and still, I couldn't drop the urge to pinch myself.

Like I was living someone else’s dream. Or maybe finally waking into mine.

In honesty, it felt like a twisted mafia version of Cinderella , only instead of a fairy godmother waving a wand to send Cindy to the ball, I got a sharply dressed, inked-up bodyguard playing matchmaker for a crime lord.

A sigh pushed past my lips as I gave myself a few more minutes to face another version of my reality.

Today was the day that I’d have to face everyone, tell them that I was already married, and hopefully spill the beans that the DaCostas had lied to everyone. My father was not going to take this betrayal easily.

I hadn’t decided yet if I was going to tell them who I’d married. What if they had already left the hotel? Abandonment had always been a fear of mine. Very few members of my family have ever shown concern for my well-being, except my father.

I got up and rummaged through the bag, pulling out a pair of black, soft, wide-legged pants.

They were a bit loose around the waist and that’s when my eyes caught the belt.

I pulled it fast through the loops, and buckled it, before slipping on the white knitted top that matched. I finished the look with the black ballet flats Nico had brought for me.

Last night, I tried searching for information about Alfonso Pontisello online, but every result kept pointing to Rico, Luca, and Roberto, never Alfonso. I struggled to believe he would have lied to me about his identity, though.

That would be seen as treason, and the circle could kill him for that. Not to mention that it would void our marriage contract.

It was one of the reasons I wasn’t going to say that I’d married a Pontisello just yet.

What if it was a scam and he wasn’t one? It would mean that I’d just merged with someone who was even less of what the DaCostas were, owned less than them, if that was even true.

I needed to know where he fit. I needed to know if he was who he’d truly said he was.

The penthouse suite was still quiet when I exited, and I planned to be back before he knew I was gone.

I took the elevator down to the seventh floor, the one we’d booked out entirely, and stepped into the hushed hallway.

It was Christmas, and the decorations seemed to glow brighter today.

There was a strange stillness in the air, the kind that felt like peace, or it could be the calm before the hurricane.

I reached my door, punched in the code, and heard the familiar click as it unlocked. Inside, silence greeted me. No voices, no presence. Just the soft hum of the heater and the hollow quiet of an empty room.

I started packing.

Halfway through folding a sweater, the keypad beeped, announcing a visitor. My breath caught, and the door opened.

My mother froze when she saw me. I looked away as her eyes burned with a rage that I knew all too well.

“Where the fuck were you yesterday?” she demanded, a harsh grip on my bicep.

I huffed as I ripped my arms from her grip, throwing more clothes into my suitcase. “Not marrying that cheating bastard.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I had to get some air, and he was right across the hotel fucking Victoria. I heard them, Momma.”

My mother closed her eyes and pressed the top of her nose. Like my little tantrum was just a bump in the road.

“I’m not marrying him.”

She used the lord’s name in vain!, I hated that. “Didn’t you learn anything I taught you? You have to be intact. They could annihilate our family if the women are not intact.”

I ignored her remarks. The men could fuck whoever they wanted but I had to keep my hymen intact for their damn archaic rituals? It hardly seemed fair. “Stop being so dramatic. We’re not even that high up in the circle. I doubt they even know we exist, let alone care enough to annihilate us.”

She closed the distance between us in an instant, her arm snapping back so fast my mind barely had time to process what was coming.

The slap landed hard, sending me stumbling, the sting radiating across my cheek like fire.

Tears welled in my eyes as I instinctively raised a hand to cradle the burning skin.

"Your father and grandfather sacrificed everything to get us where we are. Climbing in fifty years is no small feat, it takes generations. You should be grateful you even have a betrothed."

I stared at her. She blurred in my sight. “Please tell me that you didn’t know about him screwing around.” I tasted blood, and the slight pulse happening inside my mouth.

“Of course, I knew. It was part of the deal. They don’t have to be intact, but you do.”

Pain washed over me. Yet another betrayal to add to the list. This one stung more. I always wanted to believe the woman that gave birth to me actually gave a shit but clearly, I was fucking mistaken.

“So, they get everything they want, and we just have to be okay with the scraps?” I felt my anger starting to build.

“Camilla. If this merge doesn’t happen, you have no idea how far you are setting us back.” She tried to reason with me.

“I’m setting you guys back? Thanks a lot, Mom.” I zipped up my suitcase.

“You will marry him, so help me.”

I walked to the door. I wasn’t going to tell her everything, but I would tell her this. “Yeah, I’m afraid that it’s too late. I’m already married, just not to that lying son of a bitch.”

My mother froze, and I knew it was the perfect moment to leave. I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and wheeled it briskly down the hallway.

In so many ways, we were alike. She was stunning, and I’d inherited much of her beauty. Neither of us had ever been considered the smartest in the room, but she understood the power of appearance, and she wielded it like a weapon.

I looked back, and my door was still closed. She was still processing. I rounded the corner and collided straight into someone.

“Sorry,” I said, as Philip stared at me with pure rage.

“Where the fuck where you yesterday, Camilla? You made a fool out of me.”

Anger took over, and I pushed him as hard as I could. “Oh, I made a fool out of you? Where the fuck were you, Philip, before our wedding?” I yelled at the top of my lungs. My anger finally got the best of me.

“What?” I couldn’t decide if he was acting stupid or if he was actually confused.

“I saw you fucking my best friend in your room. You didn’t even lock the fucking door.”

“Not this shit again.” He rolled his eyes.

“Stop. My mother said she knew. I’m so done with you.”

Philip laughed. “You and I will never be done, Cami. We are bound for?—”

“Save it for your whore.”

I stormed past him. My heart pounded like a drum, and I knew he was following me. I could hear his breathing behind me, like a bull.

He grabbed my hand and twisted my wrist as he pushed me against the wall.

“This merge will happen. Even if I have to drag you down the aisle myself.”

“No, it won’t. Maybe now you and your father will tell my family the truth. How you needed this merge more than we did.”

I saw the truth reflecting in his eyes. The fear that they had finally been discovered.

“Oh, I’m not as stupid as you think I am. I know your little scam. How you own what, twenty percent of the docks, maybe even less?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t fool me, Philip, and get your fucking hands off me.”

“No, you are mine, and you will….” He froze as a knife pressed into his throat.

Nico appeared behind him. “I suggest you take your hands off the lady as she requested.”

“Sir, this is none of your concern,” Philip replied, trying to sound confident but I could see the fear on his features. “And you will take your knife off my throat if you know what’s good for you.”

Nico chuckled. “Ooh, I’m scared.” He took his knife from the bastard’s throat. A drop of blood oozed from his neck where the knife had nicked him. Philip pressed his finger into it and then licked his own blood.

Like always, Philip was ready to fight, and in two jabs, they were so fast, I hardly saw it coming, he was on the floor, coughing, trying to catch his breath.

Nico’s gaze flickered from Philip to me. “Walk.”

I didn’t like his tone. He grabbed my bag, and I followed him quickly to the elevator.

Inside, it was silent. I didn’t know if I should speak or not. Nico wasn’t.

“I just?—”

“Save it for him. It’s not me you need to explain your disappearance to.”

He was cold, and I didn’t like it, not one bit. For the first time, fear crept in, my mother’s warning echoing through my mind like a drumbeat: The Pontisellos have the power to destroy us all.

The elevator doors slid open. Alfonso wasn’t there. I took the first step out, and a hand suddenly grasped my elbow in a tight grip. He pushed me against the wall, and pain seared down the back of my head and along my spine.

His other hand curled around my throat as he growled at me. His eyes were wild as he ordered Nico in Italian. He sang like a little bird as Alfonso started to squeeze tighter. I struggled to breathe.

I could see the rage dancing in his green eyes. They were turning darker by the second.

I couldn’t even apologize. Stars started playing at the edges of my vision. As he snarled, Nico finally finished with his report.

“I’m only going to say this once, piccola fuggitiva . You better listen.” He squeezed tighter. “I’m a very possessive man, and I do not share.”

I tried to kick him, but my attempts were effortless.

“You will never wake up again and decide to go for a stroll without telling Nico or me, do you hear?”

I nodded.

“I don’t share,” he growled and then pushed his lips onto mine and his body tighter against me. I could feel his hard shaft as I tried to take in a breath, but he kept on kissing me with a frightening roughness.

This guy was going to kill me.

He stopped, and I fell to the ground, crouching as I tried to take a breath. Alfonso left me there as he walked away. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

Never in a million years did I imagine my husband would ever do this to me.

After a moment, a hand appeared in front of me. I looked up, it was Nico. His eyes were gentle, filled with something unspoken, something that told me he didn’t approve of the way Alfonso had just acted.

“I promise, if you obey him, submit to him, this business deal will be a pleasure. Please do not disobey him again,” he begged.

I didn’t nod. It wasn’t in me to obey, to submit. I was his wife, not his fucking dog. If he touched me like that ever again, I would slice his fucking throat.