Page 26

Chapter 26

Nova

Something has shifted between Massimo and me.

Or maybe it's me.

I still don't trust him, but it's hard not to want to. And I want to show him my backbone. Around him, it's almost impossible to play the meek, obedient, perfectly poised princess. I don't want to wilt and hide from him.

Geez, girl, you get a few orgasms from the man, and you're ready to proclaim your undying love .

Shut up, I order my snarky inner critic.

He's a monster .

Yeah. Yeah, I know that.

He may look respectable and immaculate, but I know better. My father often looks the same way and is the vilest of them all.

But it's so hard not to fall into the trap of thinking that maybe Massimo is a different breed than my father.

A knock on Massimo's office door cuts off my thoughts and pulls his attention from me, if only for a moment.

"Thank you, Jerome."

Jerome places the tray with our dinner on the desk and smiles at me. "Miss, can I get you anything else?"

I've never been looked at so kindly before. My father's servants were all scared of him, and they kept their distance from me because he severely disapproved of me 'fraternizing with the help.' He was always quick to remind me of my elevated station in life, like it was something to be coveted.

I realize that Jerome and Massimo are waiting for me to respond, and I shake my head. "No, thank you."

Jerome offers another kind smile before he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

Massimo pushes away from leaning against his desk and runs his knuckle down my cheek. I have to fight not to lean into the touch.

He walks around the desk, pushes his chair back, and sits. His intention is clear; like the last two meals, he wants me to sit on his lap for him to feed me.

And like the other times, he isn't ordering me to do so.

My fire and fight flare to life, like they have since I met him—even when I was frightened of him and his menacing malice—and I risk letting him see it. I have yet to be punished for standing up to him. The initial angst and struggle between Massimo and me was when I wouldn't fight him, and he sensed I was hiding my true self from him.

Taking a deep breath, I lift my chin and set my shoulders. "I would like to sit in a chair."

I hold my breath, waiting for Massimo's anger, waiting for him to snarl at me to fucking obey him, waiting for the revelation that I pushed the monster too far and would now have to pay.

But it doesn't come.

I'm sure I see disappointment in his expression, but there's no anger. He nods, seeming to accept what I want.

With a shaky breath, I sink into the chair, watching him warily—certain my lesson and punishment are coming, and they'll be harsh.

He rises—slowly, as if trying not to startle me—and wheels his chair around the desk to sit beside me.

Reaching across the desk, he pulls the food tray closer and lifts all the warming lids to reveal the meal I had selected for tonight. The salmon, quinoa, and broccoli make my stomach rumble in anticipation. The avocado slices may seem like an odd pairing, but Massimo said I needed to include something with some fat, and I've always had a weakness for avocado. The fact that Massimo seems to be educating himself on nutrition at my expense is too mind-boggling to contemplate right now.

I'm confused and disoriented enough as it is.

"Would you like me to dish you up?"

I startle at his deep voice, being lost in my head. Plus, I'm always expecting harshness like with my father.

His finger—the one that wears a thick gold ring with the Santoro family crest—touches my chin and lifts my face. "Princess." His thumb rubs my jaw like a caress. "Would you like me to dish you a plate of food?"

Suddenly, I feel ridiculous about my reactions to food and eating. My cheeks heat, and I shake my head.

He doesn't ask me if I'm sure; he only nods and eases back.

I stare at the food, silently willing him to order me to eat.

But the command doesn't come. He waits, seemingly made of infinite patience, as I battle the mental war in my head.

Finally, I manage to make my hand move. It trembles, but I dish myself up my plate. My hand shakes even harder as I lift the first forkful, but the food goes into my mouth. After chewing and swallowing, I choke back a small cry of relief and gratitude, feeling like I've overcome a huge hurdle.

All because of this man.

He may be a monster, but… Is he showing me that he's something else, too?

Massimo hums in approval and brushes my hair back from my face. "I do love to feed you, but to see you beat your father's training and do it yourself is so fucking rewarding, princess." He leans over and kisses my temple.

More confusion floods my system, and I blink against the sudden urge to cry.

But he's right; it is so fucking rewarding to beat my father's lessons and conditioning. So I focus on that, not on Massimo's ulterior motives for helping me.

As we eat—me more slowly than would be considered normal—I need to take my mind off what I'm doing to continue eating, so I ask him questions to keep my mind occupied.

"Where are all your people?" Besides Massimo and Gabe, I've only seen Jerome and the odd guard in the house. I know a house of this size would take lots of staff. Plus, Massimo is the Don; there's always people around wanting or needing to talk to the leader of their empire.

"The beast likes to keep the beauty all for himself."

My head twists to look at him. The corners of his mouth are curled in a smile.

"What did my father do to you?"

His smile fades, and his look turns dark. He sets his fork down, and my appetite vanishes.

He's going to show you what he thinks of all you Mancinis .

He rises, and I try not to flinch—he sees it because this man misses nothing. His big hands clench into fists, and my heart stutters in alarm.

He walks away from me and goes to the beverage counter in the corner of his office. When he turns, he has a tumbler with ice and clear liquid, and a glass with a small bit of red wine in it.

He sits down, handing me the wine. "Gemma said you like red wine, but don't drink too much right now, princess."

I glance at the glass—there's really only a large swallow in it, and I take a tiny sip. "Do I need to prepare myself for the answer to my question?"

He grunts softly and plays with his glass, staring into the liquid. "Nearly a year ago, Sophie was taken. Your father's name popped up when my brother Creed tried to figure everything out." He looks at me. "It looked like your father wasn't connected, but recent discoveries show that conclusion was likely wrong.

"We also discovered your father was conspiring with Simon Novak, the leader of the Czech mafia and two of my allies here in San Francisco, plotting to take down both the Chamber and the Santoro family."

I bite my lip as I consider what he's telling me, and the fact that he's telling me anything at all. From my research into the US criminal factions, I know what the Chamber is.

"My father has hated your father for years because of something Tommaso did to make him look like a fool," I admit. "What was my father's end goal, though, here in California? "

Massimo studies me. "Do you know your family's main revenue source?"

I glance away. "I have my suspicions."

"Human trafficking and selling humans like cattle," he says bluntly. He turns my face back to his and runs his thumb over my cheekbone. "He also admitted to trying to set up a local site here in California for an international ring where people are forced to kill each other for entertainment purposes and that involves sex slavery."

My stomach rolls and I heave.

Then I'm wrapped in strong arms and held against Massimo's chest as I heave again, but somehow the food I've just eaten stays down. Massimo rubs my back while he cradles me in his arms, waiting until my nausea has fully passed.

My confusion grows. How can he take care of someone like me? My father is responsible for heinous things, including horrible things directly against the Santoros. My father is even worse than I imagined.

"No wonder you hate the Mancinis."

It was a mystery to me how Massimo could even look at me, let alone touch me. I should be back down in the basement.

"Not all Mancinis." He lifts my face, his thumb doing that caress thing along my jaw again, which is proving to be my undoing. My battered psyche wants to trust what I see in his eyes, but I've learned too many lessons. "I was wrong about you, Nova. And I'm so fucking sorry for how our story started."

How our story started?

I shake my head to dislodge the hope that's trying its damnedest to bloom. "So, the lack of people here is to keep it secret that you took me. While you put your plan into place to attack my father."

His jaw hardens. At first, I think he won't respond to my statement, but he finally says, "Yes."

Well, at least he's not lying to me.

But this is the cruel reminder I needed: I'm just a pawn and a tool. Of course, I knew this already, however, the admission still hurts .

Which is stupid. Just like the hurt I felt at Gemma's betrayal when I thought she was my friend before she kidnapped me to bring me to Massimo.

I look away. "It makes sense."

"Nova."

I shake my head, trying to get up off his lap.

I'm just a pawn and a tool. I need to remember that, and I can't when I'm physically touching Massimo.

He makes me hope and want things someone like me can never have. Someone like me—a Mancini, one of the vilest, most evil breeds of creatures—doesn't deserve.

He's not releasing me as I try to get off his lap. "Please let me go, Massimo."

"No," he says harshly. "Never."

My anger flares, and I let him see it. "I need some goddamn space right now."

His nostrils flare in surprise, and the right side of his mouth curls with a small smile. Then eases up his death grip.

I stand on shaky legs and move away from him to the far side of the room. The space between us is needed, so I don't fool myself that I can turn to him for comfort.

I don't deserve comfort, not with the Mancini blood flowing through my veins.

The confirmation of my suspicions that my family is involved in human trafficking is a blow in itself. The life of luxury I've lived was paid for by people, literally. On top of it, a death ring that also involves sex slavery…

How many lives have my father, brothers, and Mauro destroyed?

I close my eyes as nausea hits me again, cutting off any further thought.

There's a knock on the door, then Gabe rushes into the office. "Mass, Vito is here."

"Shit." Massimo is on his feet, moving toward me.

"The guards let him through the gates, like usual; otherwise, it would've raised red flags for him." Gabe looks at me. "There isn't time to get Nova to her room. "

Massimo grips my shoulders. "I need you to go into the room next door, princess."

It's well-known how close and loyal the Santoro brothers are to each other. His and Gabe's reactions mean that my presence here is being kept from Vito—and likely from the rest of Massimo's family. Rather than giving me a boost of courage to fight and use this against Massimo to get something in return, that realization only makes the hurt cut deeper.

"I'm the Mancini Princess. Give me an order, and I'll obey," I say flatly.

Massimo blanches.

"Mass, we don't have time." Gabe looks at his phone. "Jerome said Vito is in the house and on the way to the office."

"Which way?" I ask.

Massimo takes my hand and leads me to the bookshelf. He feels under one of the boards, and a section of the bookshelf swings open. 'I'll try to make this as quick as possible, princess."

I step inside without looking back at him, and the door seals shut behind me.