Bark For The Don Who’s Been Hunting Me For Ten Years Chapter 08
The Marchetti empire falls in a night.
The gilded family estate. The Fifth Avenue penthouse. The private club memberships. All of it. Frozen. Seized. Sealed shut with federal notices slapped on every door.
My father is the year’s biggest joke in New York.
That soft, wet sound of somebody slamming face-first from the top into the mud? God, I love it.
They end up in a shitty walk-up in Queens.
The whole place reeks of cheap ramen and mold. Peeling wallpaper. A cockroach on the counter that doesn’t even bother to run.
Camilla loses her mind. She runs to a pawn shop with all her precious jewels. The emerald bracelet. The pigeon-blood ruby necklace. Everything Cassian “gifted” her.
The pawnbroker holds them up to the light. Laughs in her face.
“Lady. This is costume jewelry. Wholesale. Ten bucks for three. That’s my best offer.”
She screams so loud the whole block hears it.
My father starts drinking himself to death. Cheap bourbon. Every sip. Every sip he curses my name.
“Ungrateful little bitch.”
Bianca hasn’t woken up yet. She’s still staring in the mirror at her own face. It’s rougher now. No more facials. No more injections. She looks in the mirror and something starts to break behind her eyes.
She reaches out. Contacts some tabloid bloggers.
She wants to expose Cassian De Luca. Wants to tell the world he’s holding his own sister-in-law hostage. Torturing her.
She thinks she’ll go viral. She thinks she can shake some money loose that way.
Bless her heart. She forgot who Cassian De Luca is.
His men have her in a duffel bag before the story goes live. She doesn’t even get to scream.
The basement under the De Luca estate is cold enough to freeze bone.
They dump Bianca out of the bag onto the concrete floor.
The first thing she sees is a face right in front of her. Bloody. Swollen. No tongue.
Valentina.
Curled up in a rusted cage in the corner. On her knees. Licking scraps off the floor like a dog.
“Aaah!”
Bianca lets out a short, sharp scream. Then the smell hits. Piss. She just wet herself. All over that knockoff couture dress she cared so much about.
I walk into the cellar in my heels. Slow. One step at a time.
Cassian’s already dragging a chair for me. Fur throw over the back. He sits me down and drops to one knee at my side. Loyal dog. Waiting for orders.
I look down at my sister. Shaking like a leaf on the concrete.
“Sera. Sera I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It was Mom. It was Camilla. She made me do this. All of it. I swear to God.”
She crawls forward. Tries to grab the toe of my heel.
Cassian’s foot slams into her chest before she gets close. She flies back into the wall.
I keep my voice flat. Like I’m asking about the weather.
“Ten years ago. When those men had a knife to my throat. What were you thinking, Bianca?”
Her eyes freeze. She can’t look at me.
“You turned around. You looked me in the eye. I thought you were begging me to help you. So I threw myself at the guy holding you. I gave you the chance to run.”
“And you ran. And then you went home and told the cops I set the whole thing up.”
“My father locked me in a dark room for three days. No water. No food. No light. Nothing.”
“I could hear you three. Right next door. Eating cake. Laughing. Celebrating.”
I crouch down. Trail my finger along her wet, white cheek.
“You know how cold I was in there, Bianca?”
She’s sobbing so hard she can’t breathe. Slamming her forehead into the concrete. Blood on the floor.
“I’m not going to kill you. That would be a gift.”
I stand up. Wipe my finger off on the fur throw. Disgusted.
“I want you to live. I want you to feel what it’s like to be tossed out. Every door slammed in your face. Clawing through the gutter for scraps. For years.”
They dump Bianca outside the estate like garbage.
She drags herself back to the shitty walk-up in Queens. Looking for Mommy and Daddy.
She gets to the door and hears them already going at it. Screaming. Something slamming against the wall.
She pushes the door open.
My father has Camilla by the hair. Bashing her head into the drywall. Camilla’s nails dig into his eye socket, going for the eyeball.
“You bitch! If you hadn’t talked me into sending Sera to that estate, I’d still be somebody in this city!”
“You useless piece of shit! I should have known better than to bring my daughter anywhere near you, you fucking pig!”
Bianca collapses in the doorway.
Watching the only home she ever had turn into a slaughterhouse.
And she finally understands.
The family she was so proud of. It was never real. It was just a house of cards built on greed. And the wind finally came.
Rooftop of the De Luca estate. Cold wind cutting straight through.
Cassian wraps his arms around me from behind. Rests his chin on my shoulder. Breathes me in like he’s been starving for ten years.
“Feel better, baby?”
His voice is low. Sick. Lazy the way he gets after he’s watched something die.
I look out over the city. Lights burning for miles. My eyes are dead cold.
“Not yet.”
He laughs softly against my throat. Kisses the scar on my neck. The one that hasn’t quite faded.
“Okay. Tomorrow. I do it myself.”