Page 59 of Forbidden War (Forbidden 2)
KARINA
The trunk opensand as I blink into the bright light, someone shoves a hood over my head and hauls me out of the car onto shaky legs.
I don’t know why they bother with the theatrics. I know where we are.
Familiar scents fill my nose. I know the earthy smell of this yard, the perfume of the magnolia tree, and the sharp tinge of Murphy’s Oil Soap that always lingers inside the front foyer. They brought me home.
Somewhere between my abduction and this moment, my fear subsided, and anger replaced it. My cheeks itch from dried tears and my eyes feel swollen, but I’m done crying. I want nothing more than to be done with my old Bruno life, yet it keeps creeping up to drag me back in, time and time again. Why can’t they just leave me alone?
Someone takes my arm, their fingers pressing against the bruises that are already there, and walks me forward. The sound of our footsteps changes from shoes on tile to the resonant clack of the hardwood floors. As I’m pushed into a room and the door closes behind me, I catch another scent I recognize—my mother’s perfume. It’s the same one she’s worn since I was a child, but it’s far from comforting. Instead, it churns up nausea and disappointment in my gut.
My hood is suddenly whipped off, and the first thing I see is my mother. Standing right in front of me as she reaches up to move the loose strands of hair away from my face.
“You are a mess, Karina.”
She makes a tsking sound and tries to smooth my tangles, then gives up and gathers it into a loose braid over my shoulder, never making eye contact with me. Never acknowledging that her daughter is standing before her in restraints and against her will.
Realizing I’m in my uncle’s office sends me into an instant panic.
“Mom? What are you doing?”
She doesn’t respond, just keeps tidying me up as if I have somewhere to be, someone to impress. She moves away to grab something from her purse. It’s a travel size pack of makeup remover wipes. Pulling one out, she presses it against my cheeks and starts cleaning my face.
“Your makeup is a sight. And your mascara ran everywhere.”
“Mom.” My voice sounds like a pathetic, scared little girl. My mother is right here. Right in front of me, and she’s doing nothing to save me. “Stop.”
“It’s going to be fine. I’ll fix you right up. Make you pretty again.”
She reaches toward me again and I step back, my anger rising. “You’re not fixing anything! And I don’t care about looking pretty for Uncle Sergio or for fucking Pietro! How can you just stand there and let them do this to me?”
I wriggle in my bonds, making a point of the fact that my hands are tied behind my back, but my mother only sighs and shakes her head, making no move to help me.
“Karina, please. You did this to yourself when you turned your loyalty away from this family. You knew better. And now…you must pay the price.”
Trying to ignore the tone of finality in her voice, I squeeze my eyes shut, as if I can make all of this go away. The way she’s talking, it sounds like I’m about to be tortured or killed.
Or both.
Loud footsteps enter the room and my heart crashes to my feet.
“Leave us,” Uncle Sergio says, his heavy presence filling the office so completely that I feel like I’m suffocating.
I shrink away as he passes close enough to me that our shoulders brush. He drops into the leather chair behind his desk and steeples his fingers over his belly, eyeing me with disdain. A slow tremble starts in my shoulders and down my arms, working through my entire body.
It isn’t just fear causing me to come undone, though. It’s also rage. I hate him.
All I can think to do is lift my chin, pretend to be brave and insulted. Acting like the Bellantis have my back is the only weapon I have to wield right now. “You’ve made a huge mistake, Uncle. There will be consequences.”
“Is that so?” He just smiles, looking anything but intimidated, and my blood runs cold. “Come now, Karina. Quit with the childish posturing. It’s not going to get you anywhere.”
My mother’s voice rings out from behind me. “Sergio—”
I’d thought she’d left. My uncle’s attention doesn’t turn from me.
“Get your ass out of my office. This is a private meeting,” he says, completely devoid of emotion.
Was that her feeble attempt to help me somehow? Was she hoping to stand by to keep my uncle from punishing me too harshly? She can’t have actually thought she could make a difference.
I hear footsteps, the sound of the door opening and closing. Her perfume fades.
My pulse picks up, and my ears start to ring. Shooting pains stab at my stomach from the inside. I’m truly alone with Uncle Sergio now. There’s no telling what he has in mind for me. I don’t want to be afraid, but I can’t stop my visceral reaction to him. It’s pure instinct.
“You mentioned something about a mistake, Karina?”
My uncle turns to the liquor cabinet behind him and pours himself a strong, smoky whiskey. The smell hits me right in the gut with a punch of nausea. He takes a long sip.
“Speak,” he commands.
I don’t stop to wonder why he’s granting me this chance to talk my way out of this. I take it for the gift it is. Because as terrified as I am, I’m also more confident in myself than I was the last time I stood before him. Thanks to the Bellantis, I know my worth. I wasted my whole life trying to be perfect, trying to be obedient, trying to be invisible. Doing whatever I could to avoid my family’s punishment and abuse and scorn. But I’m done cowering like a little mouse.
“You think the Bellantis are easily outmaneuvered, but they’re not,” I say as coolly as possible. “My husband won’t take my abduction lying down. I guarantee you they already have a plan in place to—”
“Your husband.” He laughs. “A pathetic excuse for a man, riding on the coattails of his older brothers with no loyalty to the Bellanti name aside from what it can do for his masturbatory racing career. He’s nothing but a spoiled, self-indulgent little dandy.”
The insults roll off me, simply because they are so far off base that I can’t even take offense. But my wrists burn and itch from my bonds and I ache everywhere. Fatigue is setting in. My body is so very tired.
“You clearly know nothing about him,” I say, but my anxiety is rising again. This conversation is going nowhere, and I’m starting to wonder if I’m simply standing here to be humiliated and shamed for the sole purpose of my uncle’s personal pleasure.
He raises a placating hand. “Believe what you wish. I’m not here to debate your husband’s lack of virtue. However, since you mentioned mistakes, I consider it my duty to enlighten you about a few things that have perhaps escaped your knowledge heretofore.”
After taking another long pull of whiskey, he sets the glass down and smacks his lips, a disgusting sound that sends a shudder through me.
“You see, Karina, you are the mistake. You always have been. Your mother was supposed to birth a son. Instead, we got you. Your failures have only continued from there. But I’ve come up with a plan to fix everything.”
“Well, excuse me for having a vagina.”
He whips me a look. I stare back at him, dead-eyed. I’ve never been so bold with my uncle, but it isn’t bravery that’s driving me—it’s a combination of exhaustion and my best attempt to seem like I’m not afraid of him anymore.
“I’d be happy to dispatch you here and now, keep things clean and simple, but unfortunately you’re more valuable to me alive than buried in the Mojave desert in a stainless steel drum full of lye. Unless that sounds like a preferable alternative to what I’m about to ask of you.”
Leaning back, he lets his words sink in. The way he spoke leaves no doubt in my mind that this is a method of making people disappear with which he has much experience. And judging by the thoughtful expression on his face, he’s still seriously considering it.
