Page 44

Chapter 44

Nova

It's been over a week since I gave Massimo my virginity, but it feels like months in some ways. Not in a bad way, but in the sense of my progress in unlearning some of my hard-learned lessons from the past.

It's amazing how your mind and psyche can begin to heal when not living in constant fear.

I'm by no means 'recovered,' and I know I’ll never be; not completely.

However, I'm able to eat when Massimo isn't around. It still takes considerable effort and mental gymnastics to do so, but I'm making progress. Of course, whenever he can, he feeds me, and I love to feed him. My favorite is when we're alone in the private sunroom or our bedroom with me perched on his lap, warming his cock, as we do so. Then, afterward for his dessert, he eats me , then fills me with his cum .

I still need to have a nightlight on if Massimo isn't in bed with me. I still panic if I look out the window and see a guard outside who looks like a combat soldier rather than a made-man. However, the six guards who are inside the house with me are in suits with their weapons hidden, so they don't trigger me.

Sometimes, I feel weak and ridiculous—that something as trivial as what the guards are wearing can send me spiraling. Other times, I'm so overwhelmed with gratitude for Massimo's tenderness and patience that I can hardly breathe, and my chest tightens with a mix of something dangerous and forbidden.

Something that I don't dare acknowledge .

Because I can't be falling in love with my captor, I just can't.

I'm a Mancini, his enemy. The daughter of the man who has tried to do terrible things to his family. I had asked Massimo about Sophie; he was reluctant, but he told me her story. Afterward, even I hated myself because of the Mancini blood coursing through my veins.

I'm the snake's spawn.

And Massimo doesn't want me. Yes, he wants me. But every morning, he pops my birth control pill into my mouth with breakfast. And every morning, I take it, closing a piece of myself off and hiding it from him because his small action tells me everything I need to know.

He doesn't want a future with me, one where he's tied to me because of a child.

My heart twists as I look out the window in the library, staring but not seeing the beautiful and tranquil garden maze.

And I don't want that, either. I want a life away from this world and all the monsters in it.

That was what my mother was trying to do all those years ago when she tried to run with me.

If Massimo is successful in his mission to destroy my father, my biggest threat will be gone, and that peaceful life is more possible than ever before. It's not just a wishful dream of someone trapped in a hellish prison.

"A dollar for your thoughts."

I startle, turning away from the window. Gemma walks toward me, her long, sky-blue skirt swishing around her legs. A sliver of skin peeks out between the hem of her cream sweater and the waistband of her skirt. Her dark hair is sleek and pushed back from her strikingly beautiful face.

"Isn't it a penny for your thoughts?" I shift and make room for her on the cushioned seat in the window.

"You know, inflation and all that." She smirks as she sits down, sitting cross-legged and arranging her skirt. She leans back against the window, and I turn so I'm mirroring her position.

Her eyes flicker over me.

"What?" I ask, self- conscious.

Gemma is the complete package—stunning, sexy, and confident. She's staying in San Francisco and becoming Massimo's second-in-command, so she's also strong and ruthless.

She's everything I'm not.

"I like your outfit." She tilts her head, looking at my fitted black jeans, white top, and navy chunky cardigan. "It's not one of the few pieces of clothing you brought from Lake Como, but it suits you."

Massimo had initially outfitted an entire wardrobe based on the clothes the Mancini Princess typically wore. All of that disappeared, though, replaced by clothing more suited to my preferred, casual style, and all from my favorite designer, Jiya Miko.

A few haute couture dresses still hang in the closet, though I don't know when I'd ever need them since I don't leave the house. And once all of this is over, I won't have any need for beautiful dresses.

"How are you?" Gemma asks.

"Besides being a captive, I'm peachy."

She laughs. "I like this version of you. Reminds me of when we first met."

That sobers me quickly. When I was in Italy, Gemma had caught a glimpse of the real me—or who I wished I could be.

"And this version of you—the real you—is safe here. Let her shine, Nova."

I long for her words to be true. But rather than dwell on that, I take notice of her expression and the profound sadness that is now emanating from her.

"What's wrong?"

I've never had friends, but the connection I felt with Gemma in Lake Como when we first met is still there. And despite the hurt and betrayal I felt from her role in my kidnapping, I can't deny that my life here has been far better than what awaits me at home with my father and Julien Moreau.

She looks at me through thick, lowered lashes. "I broke the news to my father today about my decision to be Massimo's second-in-command. Shit timing on my behalf."

"Is there ever a good time to break it to our fathers that we're fighting against the role they've molded for us?"

"True, but I broke the news that Riccardo Santoro's preziosa bambina —his precious little girl—isn't coming home on her dead mother's birthday."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you lost your mother."

Her smile is sad. "She died giving birth to me. I think that's the reason my father is so over-protective, not to mention pig-headed and stubborn about me having a role in his mafia."

"But he's allowing you to have a role in Massimo's? That doesn't make sense."

She huffs a laugh. "As much as I love my father, he's old-school and a tad bit misogynistic. I'm sure he either thinks I'll be home within a month because I can't hack it, or Massimo fires me. But I'll prove him wrong."

"I'm glad you're staying. Gabe seems pretty glad, too."

She smiles, shaking her head. "No one really knows what that big man is thinking."

"I think you're wrong, Gem. It's pretty clear when it comes to you."

Her cheeks turn pink, and I'm shocked to see such a confident woman blush and look shy.

She looks out the window. "I can't believe you're not going stir-crazy in this place."

"It's a huge house," I defend. I love it here even though I'm couped up inside. It's so vastly different from my hellish prison under my father's thumb. "When I was allowed to leave my house in Boston, it was for my father 'showing' his prized possession of the Mancini Princess to the world or someone he hoped to make an alliance with."

Gemma turns back to me with a sly smile. "He was putting the pure, virginal prize on display, right? Guess that chess piece is off the table, hmm?"

My cheeks flame, and my mouth pops open. Even if I wanted to deny it, my reaction makes it pretty obvious. I inwardly groan and turn away.

She leans forward and grips my hand. "I'm happy for you."

"What for? That I tainted the goods? "

"No. Because you're living your life for you and are taking control. Stepping into your power."

"Am I? Am I really stepping into my power, Gemma?"

Her eyes flicker between mine, and she nods. "You're not ready to see it, but trust me, Nova, you really are."