Cerci Hills 的作品

Chapter Eight AlessiaThe door clicked shut behind Matteo and the room went quiet.I remained seated exactly where he had left me, a hand pressed flat against my stomach, trying to calm myself.I did what had always worked for me and I took inventory.My wrists were — bruised, tender, would need a long sleeve for the next four days, the split lip and swelling, nothing that wouldn't close on its own. My pride — well that was the only thing intact, and the only one that mattered.I was fine.I just had to close my eyes and move on.I rose to my feet and moved to the window, looking at the gates that marked my husband's home and estate.Husband.I couldn't believe it in the best of days but having him standing up for me was even more unbelievable.Matteo Ricci was my husband.The man who had wrapped his hand around my throat four days ago and the man who had just stood in this room, blocking me from my father's reach without moving an inch — those were the same person.I filed the thou

Chapter Seven Matteo POVShe didn't flinch.I had expected her to, most people after being confronted with their private lives would lie to cover it up.I expected her to deflect and pretend that none of it had happened.In our line of work, women were pawns and they were often paired with men that used their fists.It seemed Vittorio was one of them.She held my gaze, looking me dead in the eyes, her brows pulled into a frown, her gray eyes flat and steady, this wasn't something that bothered her anymore."Often enough that I stopped counting," she shrugged.Rage moved through my gut, slow and tight, burning slow.I looked at her mouth, the split lip had already begun to swell, darkening at the corner into a purple-red of a bruise.Mine.My mind echoed, I couldn't tell where the voice was coming from but the longer I stared at her the louder it became.Shaking my head, I turned away."Sit down," I said."I'm fine standing," she mumbled and I glared back at her."I wasn't asking."S

Chapter SixAlessia"Who asked you?"His fingers were going to leave marks. I could already feel the deep ache of a bruise forming beneath the skin of my stinging cheeks. I blinked looking up at him directly, the way I had taught myself over the years after I realized that looking away only ever made it worse. "Isabella was dead, Papa." I muttered, thinly fisting my fingers in my dress. "The wedding was in four hours. What exactly would you have had me do?""Come to me." His grip tightened on my hand. "You come to me. You do not make decisions that affect this family without my knowledge, without my —""There wasn't time." I huffed "You do not interrupt me."I pressed my tongue against the inside of my split lip and said nothing.He was not finished. He was never finished — my father was the kind of man who had been for so long that a slight move of defiance required extended punishment to correct. He released my wrist only to begin pacing, which was somehow worse. Vittorio

Chapter FiveAlessia POVI didn't sleep.Well, the truth was I couldn't sleep.I lay in the dark on my side of the enormous bed, and I stared at the ceiling, listening to the house breathe around me.The tick of the radiator. The distant footfall of a night guard on the floor below.So many sounds, but not enough noise either. By five in the morning, I gave up pretending I was ever going to fall asleep.I dressed without turning on a light, moving by what I could feel and memory from the night before.Old habit.I slipped out of the suite and into the corridor and stood very still for a moment, listening.Nothing.Everyone was asleep, or doing a very good job of feigning it.Taking a deep breath, I walked to Isabella's room.---The door opened without resistance.I don't know what I expected.The same stillness, maybe.The horrible, sweet smell of spilled wine mixed with something underneath it.I hadn't let myself think about it, but now I knew that sickening copper scent was blood.

Chapter FourMatteo POVShe had grit. I'd give her that.Most people, when cornered, either fell into one of two categories — hysteria or submission.Alessia DeLuca had done neither.She had sat on that bed with my hand wrapped around her throat as she glared straight at me.She wasn't going to beg me either.I turned to face the door, my mind running over the thousand details from the story this DeLuca sister had spun.I didn't trust her. That hadn't changed.But I could respect what she'd done, even while I turned it over in my head, looking for the weak link in all the plotting.She was right about the war.That was the part I couldn't argue away, no matter how many angles I approached it from. I had spent what felt like an hour standing at the dresser after she finished speaking.I tried thinking of how exactly I could escape this. If I sent her away, then I would be disrespecting the Mafia king who had set up this alliance.An alliance that had been three years in the making. It

Chapter ThreeAlessia POV"Isabella," I croaked."My name is Isabella."His grip tightened.He was not pleased with my answer. Any more and I would actually choke to death."Try again," he hissed.There was no heat in his voice, and that was the worst part.I had braced for his anger – raised voices, the fury of a man who had been made to look foolish – but I had forgotten one thing.Matteo was not my father.There was none of that display of emotion, just the flat certainty that he would get what he wanted eventually.His hand around my throat was not squeezing tightly, exactly, but it was present in a way that made breathing a negotiation all on his terms.I made myself look at him, blinking rapidly as tears filled the corners of my eyes.He was not handsome the way men in magazines are handsome.Polished within an inch of their lives.I would go as far as saying Matteo was not a handsome man. His nose had been broken at least once, and the scar over his brow and along his cheek did