Castello’s gaze was pinned on mine, and he stared at me, unblinking, like whatever I said made absolutely no sense to him. Well, the feeling was mutual, since none of this was making any damn sense to me, either.
He tilted his head. “You really don’t know why, do you?”
I pulled my hands through my greasy hair, biting back more threatening tears. “I swear to God, I really have no idea. You have it all wrong, Castello. My father didn’t have Carlo killed. There’s no motive for him to want to do that.”
“That you know of.”
Silence enveloped us, our gazes locked on one another. It was the heaviest, loudest silence I ever had to endure, the only sound that of my rapidly beating heart.
“You said the finger was a warning for someone. I take it that someone is me?” I asked softly.
“Oh, no, Miss Linscott. Having you trapped in this little room against your will is warning enough for now, don’t you think?”
My heart skipped a beat. “For now?”
All he did was smile, the darkness in his eyes speaking volumes.
“The warning is for your father, Tatum.”
“Then why give it to me?”
He stepped closer—much, much closer—his scent bombarding my senses again. “Who do you think will receive the rest of that hand?”
My stomach fell to the ground, my spine feeling like it was about to fail me, sending me plummeting to the floor.
“My father,” I whispered. That meant my family did know I had been kidnapped, that my dad knew about all this. Besides the fact that this entire situation turned from scary to insanely twisted, there was a glimmer of hope burning deep inside my mind.
My family knows…which means they will come for me…soon.
Castello started laughing. Right in my face, he laughed like a goddamn maniac.
“You think he’s going to come for you now, don’t you? You think your father knows I have you and that he will come to rescue his little princess any second?” He lifted his hand and traced a finger across my jaw. “You see, Tatum, I wanted to make sure I had enough time with you before shit got crazy, which is why that hand won’t be sent for another seventy-two hours.”
My heart stopped beating, my lungs no longer retracting, inhaling air. My skin, my bones, everything went cold, shivers running rampant through my body.
He leaned closer, his warm breath coating my ice-cold skin. “What do you think I’m capable of doing with you in seventy-two hours, Tatum?”
It wasn’t a question. The promise, the threat, the satisfaction was hidden behind every softly spoken word. I felt it spread through every bone of my body, my soul trembling as my mind refused to even think about what he was going to do to me.
Abruptly, he stepped back. “Now,” he started and walked to the other side of the room, “let’s start with a few basic rules. This”—he waved around the room—“is your new home. Live it, breathe it, get used to it. The sooner the better.”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest, like I was trying to protect myself. “How long do you plan on keeping me here?”
A wicked grin crossed his face. “Oh, Miss Linscott, I can assure you that you’ll be staying here until they carry you out…in a body bag.”
Chapter 5
CASTELLO
Watching the fear spread across her face, her eyes widening as she tried to process what I just revealed, was one of those moments I would wrap with a bow of gold and safely place it in a drawer at the back of my mind, cherishing it forever. This would be one of many moments still to come that I would remember in ten, or twenty, or thirty years’ time, thinking of how fucking great it felt to exact my revenge. People said revenge didn’t cure, that justice wasn’t able to heal, but I begged to differ. It had only been a day, and I could already feel my blackened soul starting to rise out of the ashes as I witnessed the dread of the unknown wrack through Tatum Linscott’s body.
Donna diavolo.
The devil woman who stood before me now would burn in hell once I was done with her—if there would be anything left to burn. She and every goddamn Linscott would suffer my wrath, and none of them would come out of this unharmed or unscathed. They would all pay. They killed—no, murdered my brother in cold blood because they thought they were better than us, that their little innocent princess needed a better man to warm her bed and spread her legs. She might not have pulled the trigger, but by inviting my brother to her bed, she lured him to his death.
I stepped back and leaned against the wall across from her. “What’s wrong, little mouse, cat caught your tongue?”
Bittersweet tears rolled down her cheeks—bitter for her, but so goddamn sweet for me.