Make Them Regret It Chapter 04
It was well past midnight when the three men came in.
One of them carried a metal canister. White fumes coiled from its mouth, and the smell was sharp and acrid.
The man in the lead waved the keycard in his hand and grinned at me.
“Miss Blythe, Isabella asked me to pass on a message.”
“She said Colton DeLuca can’t let you go because of that pretty face and those pianist’s hands.”
“If your face is ruined and your hands are broken, do you think he’ll still want you?”
The canister was filled with acid.
One splash, and it would be over.
My mother yanked me behind her.
“How dare you.”
The man laughed.
“What’s not to dare? You’re all being shipped off for experiments tomorrow anyway.”
As the words left his mouth, he ripped the seal off the canister and flung its contents at me.
My older brother’s wife lunged forward.
She threw herself in front of me, taking the full force of the acid on one side of her face. Her skin blistered instantly.
She didn’t scream. She just clenched her teeth and shoved me back.
“Blythe, get back!”
My second brother’s wife snatched a candlestick from the floor and slashed it across one man’s face. My mother leaped forward, biting down hard on another’s wrist.
My grandmother braced herself on her cane and brought it crashing down on the back of the leader’s head.
“The women of the Romano family aren’t dead yet. You don’t get to touch her.”
Inside the chapel, our abilities were gone. We were no different from ordinary women.
A handful of us—armed with hairpins, candlesticks, and our bare hands—fought three men in a desperate struggle.
Only after one of them took the candlestick to his eye did they finally curse and retreat.
Before he left, the leader spat on the floor.
“What are you all acting so high and mighty for? You really think your men are coming to save you?”
“They’re drinking with the real daughter up at the main house right now.”
Then the door was locked again.
My older brother’s wife pressed a hand to her ruined face and slid down the wall, blood streaming through her fingers.
My mother tore a strip from the hem of her dress and wrapped it around the wound. Her hands trembled so badly it took her three tries to secure the knot.
If those men could get in with a keycard, it meant no one outside was protecting us.
Our last sliver of hope was gone.
The chapel grew colder.
Gia was curled in my arms, shivering uncontrollably.
“Auntie, I’m cold.”
“I’ve got you. You’ll be warm soon.”
I loosened the outer layer of my wedding dress and wrapped her inside it, pressing her small body against my chest.
She asked softly, “When is Daddy coming to get me?”
“At dawn.”
“Then I’ll sleep for a little while. Wake me up when Daddy comes.”
“Okay.”
She fell asleep.
At three in the morning, I looked down at her. Her little hands had already gone cold.
I held her without moving until the sky began to lighten.
A little while later, my grandmother pressed the capsule into my hand.