by Penelope Sky
Despite the unfair circumstances she was in, Vanessa’s eyes actually softened into a pitiful look.
“I’m sorry about your mother.” Vanessa didn’t hesitate to talk back or tell me off. She was honest and violent. If she apologized, it was only because she meant it. The fact that she could see past our differences and actually empathize with me made me feel a little guilty for what I was about to do to her.
But that wouldn’t change my mind about it.
“But if my parents killed your father, it must have been for a reason.”
It was. And it was justified. But it resulted in my life becoming a shit show. “My father took your aunt as a slave and killed her—”
“Bones?” Her eyes were the widest I’d ever seen them. “Your father was Bones?” She seemed to make the connection because she glanced at my sleeve of tattoos.
“Yes.”
She took a deep breath, processing the millions of emotions that just ran through her.
I continued the tale. “My father bought your mother from the Underground and kept her as his new slave. Your father stole her and unexpectedly fell in love with her. And then together, they killed my father.”
This must have been news to Vanessa because her eyes softened in defeat. A thin film of moisture covered the surface of her eyes, and her lips quivered slightly. “My mama…he did that to her?” It was the first time she’d shown weakness, overwhelming emotion. She covered her face with her hands and closed her eyes, giving in to the emotion and fighting it at the same time. Her chest heaved as she choked back the sobs. “No…”
I looked away, not wanting to see this strong woman break down in front of me. “Stop crying.” The noise was irritating. I didn’t like to listen to the way she breathed, the way she sniffed when her nose started to run. It was the first time she cried in front of me, and it was because of the pain of someone else.
She lowered her hands and closed her eyes harder, like she was willing herself to stop. “I said I was sorry about your mother. How could you not sympathize with mine?”
My answer was simple. “Because I’m a monster. You aren’t.” I took another drink of my scotch, letting the liquor burn my throat on the way down. “That left me in different orphanages without a penny to my name. I was just another poor kid in the system when I should have inherited billions. My legacy was stripped from me, and I turned into another beggar on the street. I became a man, hardened by my experiences. I’ve made my own fortune, but I’ve never forgotten where I came from—and who took away what was rightfully mine.”
Vanessa stared at the rug on the floor, her eyes still wet from the tears she just shed. “I’m sorry about what happened to you. But my parents did what they had to do. Let’s not pretend your father was a good man. You just admitted he was a rapist. He hurt two women in my family, including my namesake. How could you expect my family to do anything different? I’m not ashamed to say I’m glad your father is dead. The world is a better place without him, and he got what was coming to him.”
My eyes shifted to her face, the threat distinct in my expression.
She didn’t flinch. “And I’ll say it again—I’m glad he’s dead.”
My palm twitched before I struck her. I backhanded her across the face, hitting her so hard she rolled onto the floor. “Say it again.”
She quickly pushed herself to her feet, refusing to stay on the ground to recover. Her face was red from the handprint I left. “I’m glad your piece of shit father is dead. And I hope my parents made him suffer.”
I lunged at her throat, grabbing her tightly and squeezing so she couldn’t breathe. I wanted to kill her this way, to lift her feet from the ground and watch her suffocate. I wasn’t delusional about my roots. My father was a bad man. He treated women like animals, got off on hurting them. But if he were still alive, my life would have been better. “Take it back, and I’ll let you live.”
She held my gaze, gripping my wrist as she tried to squirm away.
“Take it back.”
She dug her nails into my wrist then spit on my face.
I threw her hard on the ground, making her thud against the hardwood.
“Never. I’d rather die.” She spit at my face again. “My mother is the best person that I know, and the fact that your father did that to her…” Her eyes welled up with tears. “In life and in death, he’s my enemy. You’re stupid to expect me to think otherwise. And I would rather die right here than betray my family—even if they aren’t here to witness it.” She moved to her knees and exposed her neck, tilting her head back. “Slit my throat and kill me. Gut me like a pig. I don’t give a damn.”
My hand twitched at my side, but for a different reason. I had a serious temper, and I’d choked my victims to death many times. Despite the way she insulted me, I felt an invisible restraint. She commanded my respect once again. Barsetti blood ran through her veins like the Nile river, and it was unmistakable that Crow Barsetti was her father.
A part of me pitied her, for telling her the truth about her mother when she had no idea. Her parents probably shielded her from that truth, knowing it would bring tears to her eyes. No mother wanted her child to know she’d been raped.
I was conflicted. I pitied her, but I also wanted to kill her.
She scooted back and took deep breaths now that my hand wasn’t wrapped around her throat anymore. “What is your name?”
“You know my name.”
“No, you never told me.”
I lifted up my left arm, showing the sleeve of tattoos that depicted the various bones in my limb.
Her eyes narrowed. “Your father is your namesake. My aunt is mine.”
“The blood war never ended, Vanessa. It’s only beginning.”
She moved to her feet, holding herself with pride despite the fact that she was half my size and only possessed a sliver of my strength. “You’re a wealthy man now. You’ve made it on your own after coming from nothing. My father would say that’s the true test of a man, to make something out of nothing, to stand on his own two feet. You can move on from this and start over. You can end this war for good and change our fate. Let the past go. I’m willing to do that if you are.”
Just a second ago, she was livid and emotional. Now she was pragmatic once again, putting aside her hate and focusing on the future. That was a quality of a leader, of a survivor. Her intelligence was keen and her resilience admirable. “My mother wouldn’t be dead right now if my father were alive.”
“My aunt wouldn’t be dead if your father hadn’t killed her.”
I stared her down, knowing she had the upper hand in the argument.
“Don’t expect me to apologize when my family has been the victim in all of this. We retaliated because we had to. My family has walked away from their previous lives and lived peacefully making wine. Let it go.”
“I can’t.”
She sighed deeply, her eyes narrowing. “You can’t win this, Bones. Even if you kill me and satisfy your delusional need for revenge, my father won’t stop until you’re ripped apart. This is a suicide mission.”
My life had no value. I was too fucked up in the head to ever live a normal life. I spent my time with whores and made my living as a hitman. Joy wasn’t in my vocabulary. Perhaps if my life had been different, I would have had a better chance. The Barsettis were a close clan, loyal to one another and happy. That made me hate them even more. “I know.”
3
Vanessa
Bones guided me to a bedroom on the second floor. “Richard has clothes for you on the bed.” He turned the knob and pushed the door open. He turned away, like the conversation had been completed.
I was more confused now than I was before. “I thought you were going to kill me.”
He was still shirtless because his shirt and jacket were soaked in his blood. He slowly turned around, a man ripped with muscles and strength. Tattoos covered most of his skin, but the black ink couldn’t hide the definition of his abs and the th
ickness of his pecs. Built like a brick house, he was enormous. The muscles in his arms bulged. The only softness he possessed was his blue eyes. They were far too beautiful to belong to a man so spiteful and cold. I wondered if he inherited them from his mother because his father didn’t deserve to have them. “Looking forward to it?”
“Just want to know what’s going on.” A part of me hoped he would change his mind. I needed him to let me go. I was too young to die, and my parents had suffered enough. They shouldn’t have to lose their only daughter.
“It takes time to plan the perfect death.” He turned his back on me and walked away, the muscles in his back rippling as he moved. He had a deep arch in his back, and his spine was flanked with muscle on either side.
I expected him to take me against my will, especially after he kissed me against the van. But if he was going to do that, it would have happened by now. I walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind me. The door couldn’t lock, so I suspected this was the place his other prisoners stayed. The room was plain, with just a bed, a single nightstand, and one window. There weren’t bars on the outside of it, and I knew that was because there was nowhere to run. I’d die in the snow and get lost in the darkness if I tried.
I sat on the bed and pulled my knees to my chest. Now that I was alone without a witness, tears burned in my eyes. I thought about my mother, about the horrible things that had happened to her.
My mama.
Bones had raped her and kept her as a prisoner. She was probably beaten just the way my aunt was. She probably suffered every single day until my father rescued her. He took care of her, and they fell in love. My mother had never said where they met, and their past always seemed to be shrouded in mystery.
Now I understood why.
My heart was broken over the knowledge.
It killed me.
And if I died in this place, it would kill them too.
I had to find a way out.
Bones was a man true to his word, and while his motive for killing me was unfair, I didn’t doubt he meant it. He wanted to make me suffer so it would hurt my family. Putting a bullet in my head and ending it quickly was too merciful.
He would make it painful.
Maybe even unbearable.
I thought about that kiss against the van. It didn’t make any sense. I shot him, and he kissed me in response. He kissed me like he’d never wanted a woman more. Was that a normal reaction for him? Or was there something about me he found attractive?
The last thing I wanted to do was touch him, but seducing him might be my only way out of this.
He was a handsome man, and I did enjoy that kiss. Fucking him might not be so bad. And if it saved my life, it was worth it. Sex was just sex. If I protected my mind, I would be alright. It was a small price to pay if I made it out of there alive.
And back to my family.
I didn’t sleep all night.
I was too paranoid about what might happen if I closed my eyes. I was in my enemy’s house, and I couldn’t let my guard down when I was this vulnerable. If he came to kill me in the middle of the night, I had to be ready for it.
If he came to fuck me, I had to be ready for that too.
But nothing happened until morning.
Bones didn’t knock before he opened the door. His eyes moved to me on the bed, where I sat against the headboard with my ankles crossed. I was still in the same clothes I wore the day before, and I hadn’t showered or washed my face.
He was in dark jeans and a black t-shirt, his bright eyes contrasting against his dark clothes. He took me in and absorbed the situation in the blink of an eye. “You’ve been awake all night?”
With my arms crossed over my chest, I stared him down. “The door doesn’t lock.”
“And you think a locked door would stop me?” He crossed his arms over his chest, his head slightly tilted.
“The sound would give me some warning.”
“And if I came in here with a knife, you’d fight me off?”
It didn’t matter how outnumbered I was. I wouldn’t give up. “I’d fight like hell.”
Like every other time I amused him, his eyes softened just a little. “I respect that. If you weren’t a Barsetti, I might actually like you.”
“Even if you weren’t your father’s son, I still wouldn’t like you.”
The corner of his mouth rose in a smile. “You’ve got quite a mouth on you. I enjoyed kissing it.”
I enjoyed it too, and I refused to lie about it. He would see right through it anyway. “I’m surprised you didn’t force yourself on me.”
He tilted his head a little farther. “Did you want me to force myself on you?”
“No,” I snapped. “I’m just surprised. You kissed me, so I assumed that was coming next.”
“It was just a kiss, baby. Don’t read too much into it.” He stepped closer to the bed, his hard jaw free of hair because he shaved that morning. Now he wore a clean look. If I met him at a bar or at school, my eyes would be all over him. If he didn’t ask me out within five minutes, I’d march over there and ask him out myself.
I didn’t understand my enemy at all. How could I defeat someone I didn’t understand? I shot him, and he kissed me in response. None of it made sense. “Why did you kiss me?”
“Why do you care?”
“I shot you. I expected you to punch me, not kiss me.”
He inched closer to the bed, his thigh almost touching the mattress. “I thought it was hot. Most women would be too weak to pull the trigger. But you did…without a second of hesitation. You wanted me dead. I could see it in your eyes.”
“I still want you dead.”
His grin widened, the look making him more handsome. “Right there…I like that.”
“You like it when I insult you?”
“I like how proud you are. I guess I have a thing for proud women…”
Now was my chance. I could seduce him, welcome him between my legs. I could sacrifice my body for my freedom. It wasn’t like I was virgin. He was just another notch on my belt. No one would judge me for doing what was necessary to survive.
His eyes roamed over my body, down my slender neck and to my tits. He moved farther down my long legs before his gaze returned to mine. He stared at me for several heartbeats, as if he was waiting for something.
Like he was waiting for me to give him permission.
He was a monster and a murderer. His father was a rapist, so he was probably a rapist too. I knew he wanted me, knew he wanted to fuck me then and there. But he remained still, not crossing the line.
“You won’t rape me.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, darkening in intensity.
“Why?”
He turned away from the bed and headed to the door. “I’ll be back for you in an hour.”
My heart started to race. “You’re going to do it?”
He turned back to me, his hand on the doorknob. “I told you I would, Vanessa. It doesn’t matter how much I respect you. It doesn’t matter how attracted I am to you. This is bigger than both of us. I will kill you—and I will enjoy it.”
The door opened an hour later. He stood in the same clothes, his expression dark.
I stayed on the bed, too scared to move.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling my hands shake in terror. The hour of my doom had struck. There was nothing I could do to avoid this. I wished my family were coming to save me like last time, but they had no idea I was missing.
My mother would never recover from this.
My death would make my father cry.
Now I wanted to beg for my life, not so I could keep living, but so they didn’t have to suffer.
“How are you going to do it?”
He stayed in the doorway, staring me down with the same indifference. “It’s better if you don’t know.”
I pulled my knees to my chest, my stomach tight. My breathing inc
reased, and now I struggled to remain brave.
He walked to the bed, his powerful arms swinging by his sides. Twice my size and exuding power, he was an opponent I couldn’t run from. I couldn’t outsmart him either. I tried to defeat him so many times, but it never worked. He leaned down and scooped his arms underneath me before he lifted me.
I let him take me.
He carried me out of the bedroom, treating me like a feather. One arm was underneath my knees while the other supported my shoulders.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder, not wanting to see where we were going. I clung to him like a woman clung to her lover, finding comfort in my killer’s arms.
It was so fucked up.
He carried me downstairs and into a room that was covered with blue plastic. A camera was set up in the corner, and there was a body bag to the side where he would put my corpse once he was done.
I started to shake harder.
He set me on the ground then pulled my shirt over my head.
I didn’t fight it, no longer caring.
He undid my bra and stared at my tits once the bra was gone. He paused to look at me, to stare at my olive skin. He examined my neck, my collarbone, and then dragged his eyes down my stomach to the top of my jeans. He popped the button then pulled down the zipper. He moved to his knees as he peeled away my clothes, pulling my jeans down my legs until I was just in my panties.
He grabbed my hips and rested his face against my stomach, desire oozing from his pores. He kissed the bottom of my belly and then peeled my thong away before he pulled it down my legs. He kissed my thighs until my panties were at my ankles.
This was how I was going to die.
Naked. Alone. Afraid.
I deserved better.
He kept my panties and stuffed them into his pocket, obviously to use later.
When I was dead.
“On your knees.” He rose to his full height, turning dark and sinister. The affection he just showed me was long gone.
I stayed upright in defiance.
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t make me ask you again.”
