The Principessa’s Mafia Trial: From A Stripped Bride To A Crimson Queen Chapter 03
Kneel
“No.”
I answered at once.
Dominic’s jaw tightened. “What did you say?”
“I said no. This necklace doesn’t leave my neck.”
Lucia pressed closer to Dominic, her fingers curling into his shirt.
“Dom, forget it. I don’t want to cause trouble—”
“You’re not causing trouble.” Dominic kept his eyes locked on me. “She is.”
He raised one hand and snapped his fingers.
Two Falcone soldiers stepped up behind me.
“Vivian.” Dominic’s voice dropped low. “You embarrassed Lucia tonight. You knocked the bottle out of her hands. You scared her. She’s been crying since.”
“She aimed it at me!”
“She was giving you a blessing!”
Lucia’s voice cracked perfectly on cue.
“It’s tradition, Vivian. Everyone does it at the Crimson Feast. But you pushed me away like I’m nothing.”
Dominic stood. He walked toward me slowly, stepping over the puddles of wine staining the stone.
He stopped two feet away.
“Kneel.”
I stared at him.
“Kneel down,” he repeated, “and apologize to Lucia.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Am I?” He tilted his head. “You come into my city, into my house, and you shove my sister in front of my men? That’s disrespect, Vivian. In Vegas, disrespect gets answered.”
“She’s not your sister. She’s your—”
“Careful.” His voice went dead quiet.
Everyone turned to watch.
Lucia stepped out from behind Dominic, her arms folded. The tears were already drying.
“Vivian, just say sorry. That’s all I’m asking. One little word and we can all go back to having a nice night.”
I didn’t move.
Dominic leaned in close. His breath smelled like wine and smoke.
“If you don’t kneel,” he whispered, “you walk out of here with nothing on. I’ll have my men strip that gown off your body and hand it to Lucia piece by piece.”
I knew he meant it.
I looked around the courtyard. Forty, maybe fifty men. Armed. Drunk. Grinning.
No exits. Gates locked. No backup.
I straightened my spine.
“I’m not kneeling.”
Dominic’s expression didn’t change. He simply turned to his men and said, “Open the reserve tanks.”
The courtyard rumbled. Along the perimeter walls, six industrial wine dispensers, the kind used for vineyard festivals, roared to life.
Thick, dark red liquid sprayed from the nozzles in heavy streams.
The first blast caught me in the back. I stumbled forward.
The second hit my legs. The third slammed into my face.
The wine was thicker than before. It stuck to my skin and filled my mouth.
I gagged and turned my head, trying to breathe.
Lucia laughed somewhere behind the noise.
Dominic’s voice cut through the roar.
“Kneel, Vivian. Last chance.”
I was choking. The liquid ran into my nose, my ears. The gown had tripled in weight, dragging me down.
But I stayed on my feet.
I stayed on my feet until Dominic grabbed me by the shoulder and shoved me down.
My knees cracked against the wet stone.
Lucia walked over. Her heels clicked once, twice, and stopped right in front of me.
She crouched down and tilted my chin up with one finger.
“See?” she whispered. “That wasn’t so hard.”
I looked past her, straight at Dominic.
He was already looking away.
Then Lucia’s gaze dropped to my necklace, and her fingers reached for the chain.
—