Page 16 of Sacred Sin

His words and the tone in which he delivered them were an aphrodisiac for my starved libido, and burdened heart.

“But—” I began to protest. Anything I said would be flimsy at best.

“There are no buts,” he responded darkly. I couldn’t stop my pupils from dilating. Seeing my reaction to him, his sexy mouth pulled into a knowing smirk that worked perfectly with his handsome face.

He hesitated before speaking again. “Now be an obedient little ballerina and get ready to leave.”

He would not stand for me arguing against him, but I felt poised on the edge of a cliff with Gio and he’d either push me off or tug me to safety.

I had to know what his intentions were with me. How far he’d take this based on our shared history. “And if I don’t obey?”

“It’s your choice as to what condition you’re in when you arrive home, but home you will go, even if I tie you up and put you in my trunk.”

His voice held a dark promise, like it had in the past when his word was absolute and meant to be obeyed. What I hadn’t expected was the lifelessness in his eyes when he spoke.

This wasn’t the Gio I’d left behind, the mafia man who never lost, and never took no for an answer, who always got what he wanted, even if it was just to torture a naughty brat like me.

I knew he saw the look of shock on my face and the tears that threatened, but no way would I let him have the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I turned and fled back up the stairs.

I began throwing clothing into my new suitcase—a gift from Marko—along with the stuff he’d purchased for me the day after arriving. He’d escorted me to the studio on Friday and stayed with me all day. With no classes on the weekend, he’d taken me out that evening, giving us a chance to catch up.

Shopping had been fun, reminding me of the good old days when the boys would have me trying on endless sets of lingerie and dresses they wanted to see me in. Until this morning, I’d thought things were progressing nicely with Marko. Now, after seeing Gio, I wasn’t so sure.

My tears blinded me, and I gave up trying to pack and slid to the floor with my back against the bed. That’s where Marko found me a few minutes later.

“Nicolette, why are you crying?” His gentle, soothing voice transported me back to when he’d found me at school in the girl’s bathroom after a beatdown from my father.

I hadn’t wanted him to know and came up with a lame excuse he didn’t buy. When he reached out to grasp me and tug me to him, I’d cried out in pain. He’d quickly pushed my sleeve up my arm to see the handprint-shaped bruises on my skin.

His face changed instantly. The softness vanished from his eyes, replaced by something cold and dangerous I’d never seen directed at me before.

The soothing Daddy tone he used with me when I was upset vanished and was replaced with a hard tone from a man who wouldn’t blink an eye at destroying whoever hurt me.

But that wasn’t what scared me—it was him telling Giovanni that scared me. Gio would destroy whoever hurt me and I didn’t think I could live with the guilt of knowing I was responsible for my father’s death, even if he was awful.

“Please don’t tell him,” I begged. Because if Marko told Gio, there would be consequences.

Real consequences.

He’d known exactly who I was referring to.

“Marko, what the hell are you doing in there?” Gio’s voice came from the hallway outside the bathroom.

“Tell him, tesorina.”

Before I could beg some more, Gio entered the bathroom, exuding his presence and swallowing up what was left of the vital oxygen.

“What’s going on?” he’d asked darkly.

I’d tugged my sleeve down when Marko let go of my arm.

“Nicolette has something to show you. Don’t you, tesorina?”

There was no way he was going to let me keep my secret. Without saying a word, I’d pulled up one sleeve and the other. There were other places, but there was no way I was going to show them, overwhelmed as I was by the anger in Marko’s eyes and the disgust in Gio’s. The fact that my father marked me this way was humiliating, and I wouldn’t blame them if they walked away and found an actual mob princess instead of the daughter of a low-level mob soldier.

“Where else?” Gio’s voice was such a low growl I wasn’t sure what I’d just heard had come from him. The vein in his neck jumped. His hands curled into fists.

“Where else?” he said louder.