Beautiful Deception

by Morgan James

  “You know you want to. It would be so easy,” Matteo cajoled. “Give yourself to me, and you can have whatever your heart desires.”

  I met his gaze. “Even freedom?”

  His eyes hardened. “Except that.”

  “Then I refuse.”

  His chest rose on an inhale. “It appears we are at an impasse.”

  He stood and carried the container to the workbench. Without turning to me, he spoke. “Do you think I enjoy this, Giuliana? Do you think I want to hurt you?”

  There was a fine line between love and obsession, and he’d long ago crossed it. Though he claimed he was doing this for my own good, I knew he got off on the power he wielded over me.

  “I think you crave control.”

  He paused for a moment, then let out a little laugh. “You are not wrong about that, principessa.”

  There was no longer any doubt in my mind that I would die down here. Matteo would never let me go unless I submitted to him, and I would rather die than ever give myself to him.

  “I have one request.”

  He didn’t even bother to look at me as he shuffled articles around on the workbench. “And what is that?”

  “I want my ring.”

  Face carefully blank, Matteo turned to me. “What?”

  “My ring.” My words were raspy, and I licked my parched lips. “I want my ring.”

  Eric might be gone, but I wanted that one last piece of him.

  Matteo’s head tipped to one side. “Why?”

  I met his gaze head on. “I want to wear it when I’m buried so he’ll always be with me.”

  At my words, his jaw clenched, and his eyes went hard and dark. He strode toward me, his steps long and determined. He bent slightly at the waist, bringing his face level with mine. “Even now you think of him?”

  “Always,” I replied, my gaze unwavering. “He is the only man in my heart.”

  Fury stained his cheeks red, and his hand went around my throat. “How dare you say that to me? After everything I’ve done for you?”

  I jerked backward, and his hand fell away. “Everything you’ve done? Like this?” My eyes flew around the dank, dark room. “Holding me captive and torturing me? You think that will make me love you?”

  I glared up at him. “That’s not love, Matteo. That’s manipulation.”

  His eyes narrowed as he straightened. “Do not test me, Giuliana.”

  “Or what?” I challenged.

  His left eye twitched, a clear indication of his anger. “I’ll show you just how bad it can be. I will break you, push you until there’s nothing left.”

  A defeated sigh lifted my chest before filtering through my lips.

  Matteo drew in a sharp breath and stood ramrod straight, his hands balled into fists at his side. His chest heaved on ragged breaths, and his muscles trembled as he fought to control himself. “I planned to have mercy on him. Now you force my hand.”

  What? My gaze jerked toward his. “What are you talking about?”

  His mocking stare met mine as he moved to the work table. He picked up a whip and slid the narrow leather strip across his palm. “Did I not tell you? Your sheriff is coming for a visit.”

  Eric was alive? He was alive! Hope and joy bloomed, only to be doused a mere second later. “Perhaps I shall bring him here so you can watch.”

  The whip was a thin black blur cutting through the air, and I screamed as it connected with my flesh. Fire burned along my side, but I was hampered by my bonds as I tried to twist away. I gritted my teeth against the pain and summoned every bit of anger boiling inside me. “I hope he kills you.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that.”

  A shriek ripped from my throat as the lash connected with my skin again, in the exact same place. Sweat beaded at the back of my neck, and I felt fluid run down my hip. Blood. “I will never submit to you.”

  He chuckled and moved in a wide arc around me. “We shall see.”

  The next lash was harder than the two previous, and I bit back an oath as I grimaced against the pain.

  “Dissociate. You must retreat.”

  Johnny’s words resounded in my mind. I closed my eyes and tried to bring the beach into focus. It was my safe place, the thing I’d concentrated on while I spent hours locked away in the closet. Another slice of the whip ripped me from my reverie, dragging me back to the cavern deep underground.

  “Had enough, principessa?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Language,” he admonished. “Another foul habit you picked up from your sheriff.”

  With a flick of his wrist, the leather cut through the air and snapped across the flesh of my bottom. “I’m going to kill him slowly. Brutally. Make him wish he’d never met you.”

  I gritted my teeth against another lash.

  “You’re not the man I thought you were,” I panted. My back and sides were on fire, and spots danced before my eyes. “And you’re not half the man Eric is.”

  The whip connected with my back, hard enough to make me stumble. I lost my balance and began to tumble, stopped only by the bonds suspending me from the ceiling. The leather cuff constricted around my wrists, but it was no match for the weight of my body as it pulled me down. I let out an unholy scream of pain as a loud pop filled the air and my shoulder joint slipped out of its socket.

  The whip fell several more times, and I lost count, unable to conjure even a single muffled cry. My mind had begun to shut down; my body would be next. I hung there limply, my mind clouded by agony, the only noise in the room the sound of Matteo’s heavy breathing.

  My gaze was blurry, unfocused as Matteo moved into view. Black creeped into the edges of my vision, and I blinked rapidly. Suddenly, the binds tethering me to the ceiling loosened and I crashed to the ground. I hissed in a breath as the grains of rice on the floor pricked the open wounds on my sides and back, sending sparks of searing pain throughout my body.

  My left arm refused to cooperate, and I looked at it where it lay limply on the ground next to me. My breath came faster and faster, and the pain threatened to pull me under. I felt more than saw Matteo’s palm slide beneath my chin, and I met his dark gaze as he lifted my face to his. “If I can’t have you, no one will.”

  THE STONE WAS COLD beneath my cheek, and I barely stirred when the now familiar creak of the door met my ears. The lantern flared to life, illuminating the room in its soft glow. Around me, I heard scraping sounds and a heavy thud, as if something heavy had been dropped on the floor. From my vantage point I could see Matteo’s dark shadow moving as he crossed the room.

  Familiar eyes met mine as he squatted down. “Had enough?”

  I closed my eyes and tried to shut him out. I had no idea how long he was gone last time. My arm was numb, and the rest of my body felt heavy with fatigue. I’d tried to conserve what little energy I had left and slept restlessly. The floor was hard, but I’d hardly noticed. Without food and sleep, my body was slowly shutting down. I was running out of options. Only the knowledge that Eric was still alive kept me going. Somehow, I needed to get out of here so I could find him.

  Matteo lightly slapped my cheek. “I asked you a question.”

  It took a minute for his face to come into focus as I blinked up at him. I didn’t say anything; I couldn’t. Formulating words was beyond me at this point. My tongue felt thick and dry from lack of water, and my head spun deliriously.

  He blew out a harsh breath and pushed to his feet. I allowed my eyes to slide closed again, and seconds later I felt his hands slide under my armpits. I gritted my teeth as he shifted me into a sitting position and propped me against the cool wall. Every inch of my flesh, still sore from his last punishment, screamed as it came into contact with the rough surface.

  A spark of pain shot down my arm, and I cried out. Gently, I maneuvered it into my lap and cradled it to keep it from being jostled further. It still hurt, though Matteo had wrenched it back into place before he’d left last time. The agony, on top of my body already
being broken and sore, was unbearable, and I’d passed out on the cold floor. My muscles were stiff, but my nerve endings felt like they were on fire. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.

  My gaze skated over the lower half of my body, marred with streaks of blood. No wonder I was so sore. I hadn’t been able to see the extent of the damage before, but now I examined the wounds on my legs, some of which still seeped fluid. The whip had cut deeply in some place, and rivulets of dried blood clung to my skin. My back had borne the brunt of his wrath, and I could only imagine what it looked like.

  Matteo was moving around again, and I lifted my head to track his movements. Something off to the side caught my attention, and the noise from earlier clicked in my brain. About three feet long by two feet wide, the box was crudely constructed of pine, and my breath caught in my throat when I realized just what I was looking at.

  A coffin.

  Matteo turned and met my gaze, then dropped his eyes meaningfully toward the box. “You thought the closet was bad, hmm?”

  He nudged the metal folding chair aside with his foot, then bent and lifted the lid, allowing it to rest against the stone wall so it would stay open. “I will give you two choices.” He made sure I was looking at him before he spoke again. “End this now. Tell me you’ll stay and we’ll rule this city the way it was always meant to be. Or”—he tipped his chin toward the coffin—“we do it the hard way.”

  I licked my cracked lips and stared at the pinewood box. I couldn’t get in that damn box. I just couldn’t.

  “What’s it going to be?” he asked. “Me or the box?”

  With no small amount of effort, I struggled to my feet. Heavy pants left my lungs as I staggered forward a step. Victory gleamed in his eyes, and I could see the corners of his mouth already curling up in pleasure.

  I swallowed hard, trying to wet my dry mouth. After two tries, I finally managed to choke out the words. “You win.”

  The smirk became a full-fledge smile, and he cupped my face in his hands. “I knew you would see it my way.”

  He turned toward the workbench, still talking as he did so. Biting my tongue against the anticipation of pain, I reached out and grabbed the metal folding chair. The slight squeak of its legs alerted Matteo, and he glanced over his shoulder at me just as I swung upward. He let out a roar of pain as it connected with the side of his face, but I didn’t pay attention.

  My vision wavered as I bolted toward the door, my muscles protesting with every jolting stride. Grasping the old-fashioned iron handle, I yanked as hard as I could and nearly toppled backward when the door flew open. It banged against the wall with a thud, and I darted through the opening as fast as my feet could carry me. The stone steps were rough and uneven, and my foot slipped as it landed on the edge of one tread. I pitched forward, and my chin glanced off the stairs, sending a shower of stars exploding in front of my eyes. Before I could get my feet under me again, I felt myself being yanked back.

  I tried to scream, but it came out a muted growl as I writhed and scratched and kicked at Matteo as his arms closed around me. I threw my head backward, and a sense of satisfaction bloomed as my skull connected with his nose.

  “Stupid bitch!”

  He released me, and I stumbled forward and barely managed to catch myself on the workbench. Panting hard from the effort, I dredged up the tiny reserve of strength remaining and forced myself to move. I pushed off the workbench and spun to face Matteo, whose hands had flown up to cover his face, leaving himself completely open to my kick. My foot landed hard in his groin, and he let out an anguished howl as he dropped to one knee.

  Part of me wanted to inflict as much as pain possible, just as he’d done to me. But what little energy I had left was slowly leaching away. I could barely stand, let alone fight my cousin who outweighed me by nearly eighty pounds. All I cared about now was getting away from Matteo—and back to Eric.

  I’d taken two steps when his hand shot out and wrapped around my ankle. The motion caused me to stumble midstep, and I cried out, my arms flailing wildly. I kicked at him, trying to shake him off, but he only pulled harder. I leaned the opposite way, trying to break free of his hold. Suddenly, his fingers slipped free and for a moment I hovered in midair. Off balance and unable to correct myself, I reached for the workbench. As I fell through the air, my fingers grasped the edge—then slid off. My head connected with the corner of the wooden coffin as I plummeted downward, and everything went dark.

  Twenty-Six

  Eric

  The huge metal building loomed in front of me, looking just as daunting in the moonlight as it did in my dreams. To anyone else, it was just an old warehouse, rusted and rundown. To me, it was the epitome of malevolence and loss. The industrial gray siding was unassuming, hiding the evil that lurked inside. The things that had happened three years ago couldn’t hold a candle to the shit that would go down here tonight. Maybe it was instinct that made the hairs on the back of my neck lift in warning. Maybe it was because I had an emotional tie to the situation. Either way, the next hour would determine my future—if I would have one.

  I wasn’t stupid. My chances of getting out of here were 50/50, at best. I wasn’t armed, and I had no way to protect myself other than my own two hands. Yeah, I could inflict some damage that way. But in a room full of men armed to the teeth with guns and knives, I’d be lucky to take one man out before I caught a bullet.

  My heart rate increased, and I took a deep, steadying breath as I slowed to a stop about twenty yards from the entrance. I counted four of Capaldi’s soldiers as they stood guard around the outside of the building, and two approached the car as I put it in park and shut off the ignition. I kept my hands on the wheel, not making any sudden movement; I didn’t need to give them any reason to get trigger happy and kill me before I’d even made it inside.

  One moved to the passenger side, the muzzle of the rifle leveled at me through the window. I kept him in my peripheral vision, focusing on the one who’d approached the driver door. I studied him, my eyes canvassing every inch. He didn’t carry a rifle like the others, but I was sure he had at least one weapon concealed on his person.

  He grabbed the handle and wrenched the door open. “Put your hands behind your head and step out of the vehicle—now.”

  His phrasing struck a chord, and my ears perked up as I followed his command. It was almost identical to the command we used during traffic stops. Was the man ex-law enforcement? I couldn’t discount the possibility. He was big and broad, with a hardened edge to him. I knew Capaldi’s tentacles of power stretched deep into the political system. He owned half the politicians, though most of the residents didn’t have a clue.

  Fingers laced together at the base of my neck, I maneuvered through the narrow opening. The man closed the car door then grabbed me and spun me around. I let out a grunt as he slammed me against the hood of the little rental car. He kicked the inside of my ankles until my legs were spread wide, then frisked me. He wasn’t going to find anything; I hadn’t even bothered to bring any weapons with me. It was a pain in the ass to get them on the plane, and I knew they would’ve just been confiscated the second I stepped onto Capaldi’s property.

  Satisfied that I wasn’t hiding anything, the man grabbed me by the back of the shirt and hauled me up, then marched me toward the industrial metal door on the side of the building. I kept my chin up, my expression firmly in place as we entered the last place I ever wanted to see again. The interior was dim, lit only by a handful of dingy, ancient fluorescent bulbs that dangled precariously overhead.

  The warehouse was a wide open space, undivided by walls or offices. Any machinery that had once run here had since been removed, and the man shoved me forward, through the maze of discarded pallets and crates. I forced my face into an expressionless mask as I fought to bring my heart rate under control.

  Two folding chairs had been set up in the center of the room, and a man occupied one. His posture was insouciant, borderline defiant, and I immediately recogni
zed Giuliana’s cousin Matteo. He smirked at me as the guard led me closer then slammed me down into the seat. “Nice of you to join us, Sheriff.”

  The guard who’d led me inside moved away and took up position to Matteo’s left. Two other men took his place, stationed on either side of me, but I ignored them completely. Instead, I made a show of looking around. “Hasn’t changed much since the last time I was here.”

  My glance around the place revealed several things. There were several soldiers posted around the warehouse. I’d counted at least a dozen, though more were probably hidden in the shadows. There was no evidence of illegal contraband, which told me they’d probably ceased using this warehouse as a sort of base after the last raid. And most importantly—Jules wasn’t here. I thanked every deity known to man for that. At least she’d be out the way when all hell broke loose.

  I turned my attention back to Capaldi. “Haven’t done much with the place. But I guess the war with the Russians has been taking up too much of your time and money.”

  Matteo’s eyes narrowed on me. “Yes, well, I expect that to change soon,” he replied.

  I snorted. “Not likely.”

  “Hmm...” Matteo hummed a noncommittal sound, and I affected a bored expression.

  “Want to tell me why the hell you dragged me all the way out here?”

  I kept my expression cold and distant, and Matteo stared at me for nearly a minute. Finally, I broke the silence and tipped my chin at him, indicating his attempt at intimidation. “Does that work for you?”

  A tiny smile quirked his mouth. “I admire your confidence, Sheriff. Makes this all the more fun.”

  “If you say so.” My gaze landed on the bruising around his nose and eyes. I indicated the wound with a quick jerk of my head. “Looks like you were on the receiving end of some blunt force trauma.”

  His lips thinned. “Courtesy of Giuliana.”

  I bit back a smile as vicious pride filled me. That’s my girl.