I was no different. Except I was still useful, and so he kept me alive. As long as I was under control, his punishments were no worse than the occasional bruise or black eye.
This was a step too far.
I got out of bed. My jaw ached, and I could imagine the yellow and green splotch growing along my mouth. Mal was going to be livid. I wondered why I cared about that right now, when I was stuck in some dungeon room I hadn’t even realized existed.
Maybe because Mal was all I had. Maybe always had been.
I tried the door, but it was locked. I pounded on it hard. “Hey! Someone! Let me out of here!” I banged and shouted until my throat began to ache and I heard a lock thunk open.
I stumbled away as the door swung in. Rolando stood there, glaring at me with a rifle slung over his shoulder. “Can you shut the fuck up?” he asked, taking a step inside.
I ran at him. I was out of my mind with fear and anger, and I didn’t care that I was begging to get hurt again. I punched, kicked, and clawed, trying to struggle past. He backed off in surprise as I managed to rake my nails down a cheek, scoring blood, and slammed an elbow into his chest. He grunted and I squeezed past, into a hallway—
Something grabbed my hair and pulled. I screamed in pain as I was yanked off my feet by my scalp. I slammed to the ground, my head ringing and my shoulders aching like hell.
Rolando kneeled on my chest, breathing hard.
“Listen to me, you stupid bitch,” he snarled. “Your father’s coming down to speak with you. Do you want him to find you like this? All fucked up and messy?”
I stared into Rolando’s eyes and wanted to kill him. But his words pierced through the red veil that hung over my better judgment.
I shook my head.
“Good,” he said. “I’m gonna let you up. You’re gonna walk into that room and sit on the bed. Understood?”
I nodded.
He moved away. I got to my feet and glared at him. “Why the hell are you my dad’s little errand boy now? Didn’t you work for Placido?”
“Placido’s dead. Get in the room.”
I turned and walked to the bed. I sat on the edge, glaring at him. My head was pounding, my jaw ached like hell, and my shoulders felt like I’d been drop-kicked by an elephant. Still, I wanted to run at him and choke him to death.
He stood in the doorway, glaring at me.
“Your dad’s on the way,” he said. “Please behave.”
“Must feel bad, bending and scraping and acting like a pathetic piece of trash for the man that killed your last employer.”
Rolando’s expression twisted. “I’m a fucking traitor. You think I want to do this? I’m just trying to survive.” He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.
Footsteps echoed down nearby stairs. Neither of us spoke. Rolando got himself under control, and I let what he’d said play through my mind.
He was a traitor. Which meant if he didn’t prove how useful he could be, my dad had every reason to cut his throat and toss him aside. The poor guy had no other choice if he wanted to keep breathing.
I didn’t feel a speck of pity.
My father stepped into the room. He patted Rolando on the shoulder. “Thank you. Please ensure we aren’t disturbed.”
Rolando nodded and left. Father looked at me for a long moment before flipping a switch on the outside of the room. The lights came on.
I blinked while my eyes adjusted. When I could see again, my dad stood looming over me. I flinched back, startled and terrified.
“Capri,” he said with a long sigh. “Where did you go?”
“I met some friends.”
He didn’t hit me. I thought he would. But he didn’t. That was almost worse.
“You know you can’t just walk away. I’m a powerful man, Capri. I have dangerous enemies. If you’re out wandering the city, some of those enemies might find you. Some rival cartel might snatch you up. Do you want that?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Good. I keep you inside for your safety.” He touched my chin and I pulled away. He smiled, like he was happy about the damage to my face. “You’ve been willful lately. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I know this is a big change, and there are bigger changes coming. But we’ll get through it.” He sat next to me and the bed creaked.
My stomach twisted. “What changes?”
“You’ll see. You’ll see.” He sighed, shoulders slumped, and looked tired. “I heard a rumor. Do you remember that boy? The one who was friends with Placido’s son?”
I didn’t know how to answer. Dad was aware of my friendship with Carmine and had sanctioned it back when everyone assumed we’d get married, but he likely didn’t realize Mal had been part of the group.