Page 58 of Bound in Vengeance
“Miss Caruso,” Alonzo speaks up again just as the murmurs around the table die down, his voice cutting through the lull. “How do you feel about Alessandro dropping your sister to marry you?” He lets out a low, mocking chuckle, looking around for support. “Two sisters from the same house. That’s very brave of him, don't you think?”
Sienna’s hand tightens around mine so hard her nails dig into my skin. I glance at her, and for the first time tonight, I see a flicker of real annoyance behind her eyes. This question affects her. It cuts deep.
“Alonzo…” Vittorio snaps from the end of the table, his voice sharp with a clear warning.
Alonzo just laughs, waving his hand dismissively. “I’m sure Sienna doesn’t mind the question, Vittorio. We’re literally family now, aren't we?” He leans further over the walnut table, his oily eyes locking onto Sienna, patting her hand gently. “Come on, sweetheart, be honest. Are you afraid that once the vows are spoken, Alessandro will just start chasing your other sisters too?”
I lose it.
Before Sienna can even realize what's happening or try to hold me back, my hand flies across the linen tablecloth. I grab the closest piece of cutlery—which just happens to be a heavy, serrated steak knife—and I lunge forward.
Leaning halfway across the table, I drive the knife down with every ounce of strength I have.
The blade tears through the tablecloth and slams into the tabletop, burying itself deep between two of Alonzo’s fingers.
Alonzo jerks back with a strangled scream, clutching his hand as his eyes fly wide with terror. For one frozen heartbeat, he’s too terrified to even check whether I’ve taken his fingers with the blade.
The elders slam their hands on the table, their chairs scraping back in a deafening chorus of outrage.
“Alessandro!”
Alonzo stares at the knife wedged between his fingers, his face drained of color. Then, with trembling hands, he checks them. All ten are still there. A shaky breath of relief escapes him before it erupts into a furious scream.
“You’re fucking crazy! You could’ve taken my finger!”
I hold his gaze, my voice calm enough to make the threat even colder. “If I wanted to take your finger, I would’ve.” I lean in slightly. “That was a fucking warning, Alonzo.”
Vittorio, Salvatore, Nino, and Enzo are all standing now, glaring absolute daggers at me. Their chests are heaving with a mixture of shock and fury. To them, I have just violated the sacred neutrality of a family dinner.
I don't give any of them a single second to speak.
I reach under the table and wrap my fingers tightly around Sienna’s trembling hand. My grip is firm, as I gently urge her toher feet, pulling her up beside me. Sienna stands tall. She keeps her eyes locked on the elders.
“We will take our leave now. Dinner was lovely,” I say, my voice smooth. “See you all at the wedding.”
Without waiting for a response, and with Alonzo’s breathing still loud in the background walls, I turn on my heel. Keeping Sienna anchored firmly to my side, we walk away, leaving the den of lions bleeding in our wake.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SIENNA
It’s my wedding morning.
My four sisters are in the room, already dressed, looking beautiful and radiant, a stark contrast to the cold dread settling in my stomach. They hover around me, offering sweet words, murmuring gentle assurances that everything will be okay.
"You’re going to be fine, Sienna," Rosalia says softly, stepping up to adjust the veil on the vanity table. "Alessandro is powerful, yes, but so are you. You learn where his blind spots are. You learn how to build your own walls within his house."
Eleonora nods in agreement, lifting a delicate pearl bracelet to fasten around my wrist. "She’s right. The first few months are the hardest, but you’ll find a rhythm. It’ll be okay, I promise."
“Yeah, right,” I let out a breathless laugh. I don’t believe a single word coming out of Eleonora or Rosalia's mouths, and clearly, neither do the younger two. None of us do, but it’s the lie we have to tell today.
Rosalia ignores my laugh and walks over to the garment bag hanging by the mirror. She carefully unzips it and takes out my wedding dress. It’s the modest one Alessandro picked out for me. The one he used to mark his territory. The one he fucked me in.
I shake my head, stepping away from her.
Without a word, I walk past them to the back of my closet and reach for the garment bag hidden behind the rows of coats. I pull it out, unzipping it to reveal the dress I really want. The provocative one.
I went back to the boutique yesterday afternoon to purchase it myself. With my own money. If I am going to be forced into a cage, if I am being bartered off into a life I didn't choose, I am going to walk down that aisle in a dress that belongs entirely to me.
