Page 10 of Merciless Queen (Moretti Mafia #1)

Harlow

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

His laughter echoed through the pitch-black night.

Each bone-chilling cackle sent icy shivers down my spine as the darkness wrapped its smokey tendrils around my throat.

I knew he was coming for me, but I ran, fighting the lurking shadows as the laughter closed in.

He was taunting me. It was what he always did.

And then there was screaming, but it wasn’t from me. No. No. No. She wasn’t here with me. She was free. I saw her. She was happy. The screaming grew closer, more familiar, scraping across my eardrums like nails on chalkboard. I stumbled to the ground, sobbing as I covered my ears.

Make it stop. Please. Don’t hurt her.

“It’s your fault. It’s always your fault.” His voice hit me like a speeding bullet in the heart. “You’ll never be free. I’ll always be in your mind. I own you.” Vincenzo’s face finally came to light, more wicked and sinister than before.

His mouth opened wide, and he swallowed me whole as darkness pulled me in.

I woke up with a jolt, my heart racing as if it were trying to beat out of my chest. The nightmare clung to me, suffocating me and refusing to leave.

I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to control my rapid breaths as fear flowed through me.

The thick blanket tangled around my limbs and the dark room felt suffocating.

My skin was clammy, and I was drenched in a cold sweat as I slowly remembered where I was.

I was no longer Vincenzo’s prisoner, but I was in Caterina Moretti's grasp; which, from the rumors I’d heard, could be just as torturous. I left one monster just to wake up in the cage of another monster.

My stomach growled like a bear waking up from hibernation, loud and rumbling, telling me I needed to crawl out of this bed and find the kitchen.

The thought of food made my stomach churn, but I needed to eat.

Vincenzo gave us enough food to keep us alive, but not enough to give us strength to fight back and escape.

A sharp pain shot through my body, radiating between my legs as I got out of bed.

It felt like a freight train hit me with the way everything ached.

My wrist throbbed through the bandages as the echoes of pain lingered.

Another scar to add to my vast collection of old and new that I’d gained over the years.

They said scars told stories, but what would my story be and how would it end?

I trudged to the bathroom, wincing with every step before looking at myself in the mirror.

With Vincenzo, I refused to look in the mirror because I knew what I would see.

One of the other girls would do my makeup, and I’d trust her.

It wasn’t like I cared, because the way I looked would be used for sick pleasure from men that abused me.

I looked ill, frail— broken. My eyes were lifeless, a void of what they once were.

They were my mother’s eyes, once a deep brown like rich, dark chocolate, but now they were sullen and dreary.

There was no happiness, no hint of the girl I once was, because that girl was gone.

The only benefit of looking in the mirror was seeing my mother’s face looking back at me.

My fingers grazed the bruising on my neck, flinching as the flashback ripped through my mind as I moved to my collarbones.

The bones were almost protruding through my transparent skin.

My veins were more present, adding to the gaunt, skeletal appearance of who I’d become.

I lost my healthy glow and curves, and became a shell of the girl I was.

Wiping the stray tears, I left the bathroom, wrapping a robe tightly around my body as I attempted to find my way to the kitchen.

The sun was down, but I didn't know what time it was, which was nothing new.

Time was an illusion at the club, where they kept us when every moment of every day was the same.

My focus was surviving whatever torment was waiting for me.

A ticking clock would be like a time bomb, each tick taunting.

When I was with my mom in our room at the other place—I thought it was a warehouse or an old hotel—I wouldn’t be let out of the room unless it was to sit with Vincenzo.

She would sing to me, reassuring me that one day we would be okay.

When Vincenzo would send for me, time slowed.

He would talk to me, touch me, have me touch him, and pretend that what he was doing wasn’t an abomination.

And then my mom died, and time ceased to exist. Nothing mattered, and all I was to Vincenzo was property, a vessel to be used.

I still belonged to someone. I just hoped for my sanity that she was nothing like Vincenzo.

I heard stories of the notorious Caterina Moretti.

She was like a phantom haunting Vincenzo, tormenting him every day.

Vincenzo hated her because she was a woman destroying his shipments, when her place should be in a man’s bed.

He was a misogynist monster, stuck in the old days where a woman was useless and only needed for two things—sex and bearing children.

Women should never wield a weapon or talk back and, most importantly—women should never be in control.

He wanted her dead, but he couldn’t touch her without pissing off several families.

Vincenzo was like a snake, trapping me in a vise, and as much as I didn’t want to think about him, he had control over me. Even if Elizabeth said I was safe and Caterina promised protection, Vincenzo always got what he wanted. He would kill anyone who would stand in his way.

My legs followed the savory aroma and sound of chatter before stepping into the open foyer.

Meekly, I stepped into the kitchen, finding a man, maybe in his late thirties, standing by the stove, and an older woman with gray hair and a scowl.

The woman was yelling at the chef in Italian, I thought.

When they both heard me walk in, they went silent.

The man gave me a kind smile, one that met his soft eyes, as the woman just stared at me.

“I-I-I’m sorry.”

“Caterina informed me you would be down, eventually. I expected you to be down yesterday, though.” The woman stared blankly. “Antonio, feed the girl. She looks like she’ll fly away with a gust of wind.”

“Yes, ma’am. Come, miss. I made gnocchi. It’s delicious and filling. I will inform you of our staff as you eat.”

“I slept for an entire day?”

She nodded. “Caterina wanted you to have food last night, but did not want to wake you. Now eat.”

The man, Antonio, leaned down close enough to whisper, but careful to not touch me. “Moira is special. She sounds like she’ll bite your head, but she’s a sweet old lady.”

“Antonio. Basta.”

“Moira, smile. We have a guest.” He put the bowl of steaming food in front of me and my stomach growled loudly, making my cheeks burn. “Moira is the head of housekeeping, but she acts like the mother hen.”

“Someone has to be in charge,” she grumbled.

“I am Antonio, head chef. I have someone who helps, but most of the time I am in the kitchen creating art with food.” On cue, I took a bite, and a soft moan fell from my throat, but I quickly replaced it with a cough. The food was delicious, the best thing I had in years.

As I ate, Antonio told me who everyone in the house was while Moira watched me intently.

She reminded me of Caterina with her sweltering gaze.

Was this her mother? Moira was in charge of nine maids, two gardeners, and an on-call landscaper.

There was security patrolling the perimeter of the mansion twenty-four-seven, along with security cameras and an alarm system.

The help stayed in a different area of the mansion, and Moira disliked it when they were in the main areas not working, unless they were invited.

Elizabeth stayed in the mansion with her boyfriend, and so did two of Caterina’s trusted men.

It was a lot to take in.

“May I have more, please?”

“Of course. Eat as much as you need. There is plenty of food and snacks in the kitchen you are welcome to. Do you have any allergies? Any dislikes?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “N-No chicken or rice, please.”

“Of course. Any foods you would like to try? Desserts?”

“Tiramisu?” He arched his brow, and it made me wonder if Caterina told him my dirty little secret. Hell, one look at me and I was sure everyone would know what happened to me. “I-It was m-my mom’s favorite.”

“Yes, ma’am. Chicken and rice will be removed immediately. And I will make the best tiramisu known to man just for you. Any allergies?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I need to get checked. Can’t they show up randomly? I really don’t know.”

“It’s okay. We’ll get you fed and make sure you are okay while eating. Nothing will happen to you.”

Oh, how I wanted to tell him he was wrong.

I was a walking target. It didn’t matter what Caterina said.

Vincenzo wanted me. He’d always wanted me since the moment my father promised me to him.

He wouldn’t rest until I was chained to his bed, carrying his children, until he got tired of me and put a bullet in my head.