Page 72 of The Beast Who Broke Me
To the Giulianos, the name is everything. The Clemenzas have a similar interest in bloodlines; arranged marriages are common. My own parents had one.
“Luca D’Amato didn’t have the name,” I say at last. “And look at him now. Besides, Tiberius is in my grandfather’s will. To some, that would be enough.”
“Then maybe you should finally get the message,” Dami says.
“Which is?”
“It’d be better to let your Family stay dead.” He’s not looking at me when he says it. He’s looking out the window.
I turn away to look out of mine.
The truth is, I have wondered about that. I’ve wondered many times over the past few days, while I was left in the dark, chained to a bed, staring at nothing. When you strip everything away from me—the name, the legacy, the strategy, the pride—what’s left?
Damiano called me all hunger. A needy little bitch reaching for a crown I’m not built to wear.
“What kind of man are you?” Luca D’Amato asked me in that warehouse. I didn’t have much of an answer for him at the time.
If he asked me again today, I’d have nothing to say at all.
By the time we get back to the house, it’s early evening. Dami hustles me upstairs to the bedroom and washes his hands at the bathroom sink while I stand there watching him. The water runs pink, then clear.
“Shower,” he tells me, drying his hands. “I’m gonna make some calls. Get you some food. See what the fallout is from back there.”
He turns to go, and the words leave my mouth before I can stop them: “Please don’t leave me alone.”
He pauses. Looks back at me. “You’re safe in my house,” he says flatly. “Only a fool would try to break into this place. It’s Fort fucking Knox.”
“Please.” I’m starting to hyperventilate, and I can’t make it stop. “I know you hate me. I know I deserve it. But you’re the only person in this city who protected me, and I just don’t feel safe when you’re not?—”
His hands come up to my face.
He’s holding me, his thumbs sliding over my jaw, threading into my hair, and his forehead drops against mine. We’re breathing the same air. His eyes are closed and his hands are cradling my head and I can feel every inch of the space between our mouths.
For a long moment, neither of us moves.
“I can’t,” he says, barely audible. He pushes me away, gentle but firm. “Have a shower. Then get into bed and sleep. You hear me?”
“Okay,” I say. My voice sounds far away. “But you’ll be there? When I come out?”
He gives a small, almost silent sigh. “Just do what you’re told for once, will you?”
He leaves, pulling the door shut behind him. I stand there staring at that door for a long time, listening for footsteps that might mean he’s walking away, and hearing nothing.
I take a long shower. Longer than I need to. The water is almost too hot, and I stand under it until my skin turns red.
When I finally turn it off and step out, the bathroom mirror is completely fogged. I wipe a streak through the condensation and look at myself.
I don’t recognize the man I see. I’m not the Park Avenue prince anymore. But I’m not the desperate prey running for his life, either. I’m something else.
Something new.
CHAPTER 25
DAMIANO
I closethe door behind me and stand there listening. After a minute or so, the shower finally starts up in the bathroom.
I should go make those calls. Find out what the cops are saying, find out if there’s any fresh intel. I should’ve seen today coming; didn’t Shuffles tell me already that he’d been approached? It makes sense that the same fucker would be hedging his bets, approaching people anywhere Caligula might turn up.
