Page 22 of Merciless Queen (Moretti Mafia #1)

Caterina

The Velvet Angel hotel and casino was our family's main source of income and investments. My father created the casino before he and my mother were engaged. He told me stories about her fighting men in the casino’s lobby for grabbing her without her consent.

I thought that was when he fell in love with her before marriage was ever brought up.

When my mother would tell me about her life before marriage and me, I could see the genuine love in her eyes when she gushed about my father.

My father created the casino, I added the girls.

There were a lot of families who dealt with trafficking, but sex was one of the most natural things in the world, and shouldn’t have been forced.

If men wanted to spend money on a beautiful woman, the woman should be able to enjoy and consent to it.

Sex work was work, after all. Women were goddesses, and if they wanted to exploit men for their money, who was I to deny them?

We keep a tight system, and my manager handled the women and the clientele.

With my father being friends with the police, it made it easier to keep them off my back.

There was nothing wrong with what we were doing when it was consensual.

Vincenzo also had an ally in the police department who was anonymous and helped keep him clean.

The treaty with the other families also helped.

My men guarded the hotel and checked the clients before they went into the rooms. There were cameras in every room.

My girls knew they were being watched because it was how we would help them if a client got too handsy, but they didn’t mind it.

It was to make sure nothing happened to them, and if it did, my men would storm the room and take care of the filth while Gianna made sure my girls were okay.

“How are things, Gianna?”

“Great. We have two new patrons tonight with Marcy and Liza. Background checks are done, and other than being married, they are all clean. And their information is stored in case we need it later.”

I looked over the files. Gianna was a beast with keeping everything organized and functioning.

Honestly, if she wasn’t here, I was certain my hotel would burn down from the chaos.

Gianna was dating Tommaso, so he spent most of his time here, but when I needed him, he would be at my house.

If there were events, like the bachelorette and engagement party in a few weeks, he would be there on patrol.

“Any suspicious activity?” After Angel was attacked at Sirens, I made sure my men had more people to protect them. The last thing I ever wanted were my girls getting harmed doing things they enjoyed, including their job.

Gianna clicked on her computer and turned the screen, showing enhanced photos of three men. I looked at them, trying to decipher if they worked for Vincenzo or not. They didn’t look familiar to me, but Vincenzo was recruiting, so they might’ve been new.

“They showed up multiple times for three nights. The guys cornered them the third night and told them to get lost. They haven’t been back since.”

“Okay. Keep me updated on that situation. Do you need anything from me?”

“We are good here. Also, I heard you’re getting married.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Yes. I finally found the woman I want to spend forever with.” I loved Gianna, but she was one of the people who needed to believe my marriage to Harlow was real.

“Our wedding will be in a few weeks. We have our bachelorette party in two days. The engagement party is in two weeks. And then the wedding. We haven’t determined a day just yet. ”

“You are having a party? And shouldn’t the engagement party be before your bachelorette party?”

“I am being forced to have a party. There’s a difference.

It’s not really a bachelorette party. It’s more of a pre-engagement party.

The girls wanted to meet her and labeled it that.

” If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have had a bachelorette or engagement party, but everyone kept saying that to make it believable, I needed to do all the things married couples did.

“Well, I’ll try to pop in. Maybe you should bring your wife to meet everyone here. I’d love to meet her.”

“I’ll think about it. Keep me updated.”

After Harlow’s fall the other day, I made sure I was there when she woke up and periodically to make sure she was eating.

I wasn’t going to force her to eat four course meals, but I needed her to eat something.

I made it fit into my schedule. She was struggling and didn’t want to ask for help.

She didn’t want to be seen as weak, but no one thought that.

I needed her to ask for help, but I knew that was easier said than done.

What she experienced was traumatic, and it would take a while to heal.

Different people had different ways of coping and healing from their trauma, and Harlow could take all the time she needed.

When I arrived back at my house, Harlow was in the living room wrapped in a blanket with her sketch book.

She was trying to do more things out of the room so she could adapt to her surroundings again.

She had white headphones on, and she didn’t look at me as I walked in, so instead of bugging her, I walked into the kitchen.

Antonio and Lizzy were both there. Lizzy was eating fruit as Antonio prepared dinner. “Hey, Cat.” Lizzy smiled, popping a grape into her mouth.

“Hey. Did she eat?”

Lizzy nodded. “Yeah. After her breakfast, she came down for tomato soup and grilled cheese. She had two sandwiches with her soup.”

I walked to Antonio, stealing a yellow bell pepper from his cutting board. “How is she?”

Lizzy gave me a tight lipped smile. “She’s getting better, but she’s still struggling.”

“Is there anything to be worried about?”

“No. She told me she would fight, and I see it in her eyes. Harlow is trying to get her life back. Her art is really beautiful.”

I walked to the refrigerator and grabbed the container of purple grapes and a black bowl. Harlow would be my wife in a few weeks, so I needed to take time and talk with her. Even with it being a facade, I needed her to trust me. Word of mouth was a lot different than physically trusting someone.

Harlow was still focused on her sketchbook, and the last thing I wanted to do was scare her, so I waved my hand to get her attention. She looked up at me, removing one headphone from her ear. “I brought you a snack. Figured I could sit with you and we could talk.”

She adjusted herself on the couch, collecting her colored pencils. “Thank you.” Harlow grabbed the grapes and slowly ate them. “You don’t have to sit and talk to me. I know you have other things to worry about.”

“I want to. I want you to trust me, Harlow, and that involves learning about you.”

Her lip twitched, almost forming into a smile, but she quickly hid it. “There’s not much to learn. I’m still learning myself.”

“Your art. What about that?”

She paled slightly. “Uhm, okay. I’m a mood artist, so it’s…dark.”

She scooted in closer to me and flipped to the front of the sketch book.

I looked at the pencil on paper, and I could feel her pain.

The first few pages were black and grey portraits of a woman with no face and something covering her mouth.

Was this how Harlow felt when she was trapped?

There were some more pieces with hints of red added to the paper, which told a different story.

As the pages went on, they got lighter, happier, but still moody.

Her art even showed me that she was healing slowly.

Her battle would be a difficult one, but she was fighting.

And then she turned the page. Out of my peripheral, I could see her turn her head away.

Is she embarrassed? Harlow drew a portrait of me.

It was charcoal grey with the only color being the burgundy red lipstick I normally wore.

“Wow.” My fingers gently caressed the paper. “Harlow, this is beautiful.”

“Thank you. I planned on sketching something that inspired hope, and I guess that was you.”

“Well, I am honored.”

I watched her sketch as she told me about her favorite artists and art styles, making a mental note so I could take Lizzy out and buy her more art supplies.