Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Shock crossed her beautiful face. She was only twenty-five and had already survived seven years with my father. Pregnant with his heir, maybe she had a chance to survive even longer. Her eyes crinkled with sympathy.
“He shouldn’t have done it!”
“I wanted him to.”
The disapproval in her face would have made me angry if there weren’t worry in her eyes.
“Do you know if Nestore is okay?” Fear filled me like a flash flood. If my father had punished me like this, Nestore must be at death’s door.
“I didn’t see them carrying out any body bags.”
I swallowed. I had to hope that meant Nestore was alive.
I tried to sit up again, and this time I managed, driven by sheer determination and worry.
Flavia lightly touched my arm. “I understand the wish for love, Amelia, but in our world, we as women only experience love from our children.” She stroked over her bump. Her first child. Or the first she’d hopefully carry to term.
I swallowed hard. “I love Nestore.”
“You’re young.”
“Not too young to love.”
“Fifteen. So young,” she said as if the word was a stranger, when she wasn’t even that old. But living with my father, she probably felt ancient.
“I wish I could help him. I wish I could run off with him.”
Her gaze jerked toward the door as if she worried my father would burst in. “Be careful,” she murmured. “Next time, he might not stop.”
I knew my father was capable of killing me, especially now that he had a boy on the way. The only reason he tolerated me at all was the chance of marrying me off to another powerful man to solidify his own power. Perhaps even to Benedetto’s oldest son, Remo, who was killing off high-ranking Camorrista in his quest to become Capo. I was bargaining material he didn’t want to lose. “Don’t you ever wish you could run away. To save yourself and the baby?”
Flavia’s eyes gave me the answer she didn’t dare to say aloud. Her fingers curled around the fabric of her dress, knuckles turning white.
I considered asking her to help me get the key for Nestore’s cell, but she was pregnant, and I wasn’t sure my father wouldn’t beat her and the unborn child to death, heir or not, if she went behind his back. Two of her pregnancies, both with girls, had ended early because of his temper. He found a pregnant belly disgusting, so it enraged him. That was why my mother, his second wife, and even Flavia hadn’t managed to give me a sibling yet.
I dragged my legs out of bed. Someone had dressed me in a nightgown. “How long was I out?”
“Three hours.”
“Thanks for taking care of me.”
She nodded with a small smile and rose to her feet, her thin hand coming to rest on her protruding belly. “I would tell you to stay away from Nestore, but I can see in your eyes that you won’t. Just be careful.”
“I will be. Don’t worry.”
She left, and I put on a cardigan and slippers before I snuck out. Every step caused a ripple of pain in my entire body, making me stop and suck in a sharp breath. It took me a while to reach the basement, shuffling my feet over the floor to avoid the worst pain in my thighs.
Anxiety sloshed in my stomach when I opened the emergency exit door and snuck into the cellblock. I sped up despite the ache in my body, desperate to see Nestore. I found him sitting on the ground with his back against the neighboring cell. The moment he spotted me, he shoved to his feet and rushed toward the bars, grasping them in a white-knuckled grip. His eyes scanned me from head to toe, his face displaying rage and despair. I wished I had covered up my legs and collarbones, the only skin I was showing.
“One day, I’ll make him suffer for everything he’s done.”
I smiled shakily and grasped the bars below his hands, our skin brushing. “I’m okay,” I lied. “What did he do to you?”
Nestore shook his head. “Nothing yet. But imagining him hurting you was torture. I was so worried he’d kill you.”
I gave a small shrug, then winced. “Not yet.”
It was meant as a joke, but Nestore pressed his forehead against the bars with a look of feverish anguish. “Don’t risk your life for me.”
“I won’t stop coming down here. And I’ll find a way to get you out of here.”
Nestore closed his eyes briefly, then gave me a bitter smile. “You’re the reason I’m still alive.”
“I’ll get you out of here.”
“Only if you come with me,” he murmured.
“Of course.”
My father had always been distrustful, but since becoming Underboss, he had become downright paranoid. He didn’t trust me to begin with, and even less so since he’d witnessed the kiss. In the weeks that followed the incident and the beating, I tried to get back in his good graces. Still, it became more difficult to visit Nestore in the basement. Guards patrolled the cellblock more often than before.