“She has a standing appointment with a shrink on Thursday afternoons, doesn’t she?”
I don’t like how he says shrink. “She was trapped in the car with our dead mother for six hours. Anyone would need a shrink, which he’s not. He’s—”
“You’re missing my point.”
My brain works furiously. Why would he want this? What does he stand to gain? I study him, and the thing is, it’s all I have because I’m his prisoner. And he can make me do anything he wants. This is something at least. It’s the only thing. And if he can get Emma out, I’ll do it. I have to.
“How do you know about the appointments?” I ask, realizing what he said.
“Do you think we stumbled upon you at the church by sheer luck?”
No, I’m sure they didn’t. My father’s funeral in Italy was a secret, but word got out, as it does. It’s how they found out. And if I recall the book upstairs, this plot of his, whatever their plan, it’s fifteen years in the making.
Being my father’s daughter, there was always some element of danger, someone unhappy with him and willing to use any weakness to get to him, and for the men he dealt with, nothing was off-limits. Not even children. This, though, it feels different. It’s not about some slight or money. This is much more than that. Amadeo and Bastian have been plotting their vengeance, seeding and feeding their hate, for fifteen years. That’s more than half of my life. And I understand now just how dangerous they are. And how far they’re willing to go.
“I’m not fucking either of you,” I negotiate, my mind wandering to what happened just moments ago. I still have to unpack my reaction to him. To them. But now isn’t the time. I need to get very clear. Make an agreement now. Because they will force me to go through with this insane plan if I don’t acquiesce anyway. And if he’s offering a lifeline to Emma, I can’t let that slip through my fingers.
Amadeo grins a devious grin, and his gaze sweeps over me. “We’ll discuss fucking another time.” He turns his back to me to pour himself another whiskey. He’s showing me he’s not afraid of me.
“No. Give me that. I’m not fucking you. Either of you,” I say to Bastian too who seems to have lost interest because he’s swiping through his phone. “You’re not going to make me do that.”
Amadeo turns to study me for what feels like an unending moment. I feel myself begin to wilt under his scrutiny as I recall that article, the unnamed child who would be buried separately of its mother.
“It’s not real. It’s a fake engagement. That’s all,” I trip over my words needing to end this strange, frightening silence.
“There’s nothing fake about it, but if that makes it easier for you to get through the night, fine by me. Just be convincing.”
“Will you let Emma and me go? After you get what you want.” Because if Emma and I are together, we can get out together. Escape. Get away from this life once and for all.
Amadeo’s expression hardens, but apart from that, he’s unreadable. A glance at Bastian tells me I have his full attention again.
“We understand you’re used to people doing your bidding, but those days are over. You should learn that and learn it fast,” Amadeo says.
“She’s an innocent child,” I remind him.
“So was our sister,” Bastian says, all seriousness again. No hint of the taunting, arrogant man.
The photograph of the little girl plays before my eyes, and I see her eyes see how even as her cheeks dimpled with her smile, it didn’t touch the shadows inside them.
“So was my brother,” he continues. “So was I. So were you. Collateral damage. We are all that, to some extent, until we take control. Because we all grow up, don’t we? Your father’s words. He thought sons were dangerous. I don’t know if that’s quite right. I think daughters can be just as dangerous as sons, depending. We’ve discussed that often, haven’t we, brother?”
Amadeo nods. “One thing we do know is he made a mistake letting us live. Scarred and battered, irrevocably damaged, but alive. Because when you have nothing to lose, you are willing to risk everything.”
Dread creeps into my veins, making me wrap my arms around myself as I understand his meaning. Getting Emma out, having her with me, will be a temporary reprieve. But what choice do I have?
“If you agree, you’ll have our protection. No one will touch you or your sister.”
“But that protection has an expiration date. When you’re done with me, when you get what you want, that protection ends. Is that right?”
“How safe do you think either of you were or would be in your brother’s house now that Daddy is in the ground?” Amadeo asks harshly. “Have you ever wondered about his sudden death, by the way? He was a healthy, fit man, as I understood it at least.”
“My father had a heart attack.”
“Did he?” Bastian chimes in.
I can’t keep up. My brother may dislike me, hate me even, but he has no cause to hurt me. And what Amadeo is suggesting, that our father’s death wasn’t natural, that’s not right. My brother isn’t that kind of monster.
But the image of that little girl comes to mind again. Because there are worse monsters, aren’t there? The ones who hurt little girls.