Page 11 of Forbidden War (Forbidden 2)
“Someone sold Livvie out. Sold all of us out. Everyone’s loyalty is to be questioned right now,” Armani says, shifting slightly. “If there’s one thing I learned early on, it’s that people are very good at hiding who they really are.”
Frankie lifts her chin. “Clayton has done nothing but try to help us.”
Armani scoffs. “People can be very deceptive in order to reach their end goal. He’s not an Abbott, and he sure as hell isn’t a Bellanti.”
Dante steps in between his wife and his brother. I can’t see his expression, but the stiff way he holds himself mimics Armani’s stature. The tension in this room is so incredibly taut. I feel like if I move at all, I’m going to be wrapped up in it and strangled. Marco lets go of my hand and moves next to Dante.
“Clayton?” Frankie asks, her voice shaking, as if she’s afraid to say whatever she’s about to say. Or maybe it’s just Clayton’s answer she fears. “Have you at any time harbored any ill will towards this family? Would you take any kind of a payout for the abduction of my sister?”
“Frankie, are you fucking serious right now?” her sister—Charlie—says as she moves forward, arms crossed.
The sisters face off, both practically vibrating with tension. My senses become more alert. I don’t think my urge for fight or flight has ever been this strong.
“Just covering all our bases,” Frankie says. “Apparently, everyone is a suspect now.”
“You think my husband would abduct our sister or be involved in this in any way?”
They are nearly nose-to-nose. This is wrong, all wrong. I should speak up now, tell them that my family has Livvie…maybe it will put a stop to this in-fighting. But before I get a chance to open my mouth, Dante steps in.
“Stop it,” he says sharply. “We’re not going to be at each other’s throats like this.”
Frankie ignores him. “We need to know if Clayton’s loyal or if he’s a traitor! Somebody betrayed us. Livvie was in a safehouse. Nobody should have known where she was except us.”
“Francesca!” Charlie scolds. “What the hell are you talking about? You really think—”
“Enough,” Clayton interjects. His demeanor is calm, amicable, without a hint of indignation or offense at being accused. “I swear to you, Frankie, and to all of you—I had nothing to do with Livvie’s abduction. But I will lay my life down to help find her.”
Armani reaches into his jacket and my heart just about stops, but instead of a weapon, he pulls out what appears to be a small, folded paper.
“Do I need to remind you what’s at stake here?” Armani asks, waving the paper at Clayton. “She’s your wife’s blood. Do you swear you’ve had no part in this?”
“I’ve had no part in this. Your intimidation tactics aren’t going to change my answer. Because it’s the truth,” Clayton says.
Marco swipes the paper from Armani, who doesn’t lose focus on the man in front of him.
“Then swear your life to this family, Clayton,” Armani demands. “You’re the only man here with outside ties.”
No one moves. I swear I feel the erratic thrum of heartbeats as we wait for his answer.
Clayton stands taller. His Irish accent is thick and strong as he says, “I swear my loyalty to the Bellanti family. To my wife. For as long as I live. So help me God.”
There’s another beat of silence, less tense now, though I still feel as wary as before. Marco unfolds the paper. His forehead wrinkles as he studies it. Moving closer, I look down at it and my stomach lurches.
He’s holding a photograph of a beautiful, hollow-eyed young woman in a bare, featureless room with white walls. It could literally be any room anywhere. There’s an ugly leather collar around her neck, attached to a thick chain that’s bolted into the wall. Despite my horror, it hits me that she is a perfect mixture of the other two women in the room. Which, of course she is. A yellow sticky note with a message on it is stuck to the bottom of the photo.
“It’s a photo of Livvie,” Marco says.
Frankie nods, tears spilling down her cheeks. Clearly, she’s seen it already.
I read along as Marco mutters the words written on the sticky note out loud.
“Say hello to our newest pet. –Sergio Bruno.”
Oh my God. Uncle Sergio sent this to taunt the Bellantis.
But, more than that—the secret is finally out about who took Livvie. Now we all know. Marco and I won’t have to break the ugly news to everyone after all.
My eyes close. The floor seems to rock under my feet, and I have to lean on Marco for support. He’s the only thing keeping me from sinking to my knees in despair. He takes a deep breath and hands the photo back to Armani.
“See? Someone sold us out—” Armani’s voice breaks off sharply as he spins to look at me.
Marco pulls me closer. “Are you serious? You’re going to work your way through every person in this room?”
“No, just the outsiders.”
I draw back behind Marco in fear as Armani approaches.
“That’s enough, Armani.”
But he doesn’t stand down. Armani takes a step closer, and my blood runs cold. The chill in the man’s stare is visceral. And it’s terrifying. It crosses my mind that Marco might not be able to protect me from his brother.
Does Armani suspect that I knew about Livvie already? Sure, it wasn’t going to be a secret from everyone that much longer, but I still feel guilty. What if Armani can read it all over my face?
“Back off,” Marco says, completely blocking me with his body, surprising me.
I glance around the room, feeling trapped. Nausea wells into my throat. My own flesh and blood has done something horrible to the family I married into. Until right now, I didn’t realize just how nasty the war between these families could get. But Livvie’s life is on the line. And so is the life of every other Bellanti.
“Enough,” Dante says, spreading his arms wide. He’s got a look of complete no-nonsense on his face. There’s something about him that makes me stand up straighter. He commands the room with his presence without being terrifying about it. No wonder he’s the family patriarch.
“We are done with this bullshit,” he goes on. “We are a family, and we’re not going to stand around accusing each other. What we need to focus on is getting Livvie back from the Brunos. They haven’t made any demands for ransom, so that means them taking Livvie was an act of aggression, purely to taunt us.”
“But who says they won’t just kill her now that they’ve made their point?” Frankie sobs, sagging in his arms. Dante rubs her back while giving his brothers a warning look over the top of her head.
“That won’t happen. This is just an intimidation tactic. We’ll get her back, I swear it,” he tells her softly. “Your family is our family, remember? Livvie is going to come back home to us, and soon.”
A tear spills down my cheek. I can’t escape the guilt and horror of knowing that it’s my family who has done this. And no matter what Dante says to Frankie, I know the truth: Livvie is the furthest thing from safe. As long as my uncle is running the Bruno empire, none of the Bellantis will be safe. Neither will I.
I think about the padded room inside my uncle’s office. The men who were sometimes brought to our house—escorted by my uncle’s barrel-chested, stone-faced associates dressed all in black—who never left. The way, sometimes, I would lie awake in my bed at night and think that I heard screams. Faint, ghostly screams, far away or rising up from deep within my mind.
My uncle is a far worse human being than I will ever know. But if he is capable of locking up his own nine-year-old niece for the slightest misstep, there’s absolutely no doubt in my mind that he is capable of brutalizing Livvie in unimaginable ways, all in the name of revenge. What is happening to her in that room? What could Sergio possibly want in exchange for her return? Or what if my father was right, and they force her to marry Pietro?
God, Dante should not have promised his wife that her sister will be safe. He can’t promise that. None of us can.
Glancing up, I see the look on Armani’s face says it all. He doesn’t believe Dante’s words, either.
I know this family cannot protect me. But I’d give anything if my husband would whisper sweet, empty promises in my ear, too.
Maybe then I could pretend that, for once, everything really is going to be okay.
