I felt like shit. No, worse than shit. I felt like dry, stale, week-old horse shit.

Unable to lie still any longer, I shoved the throw from my legs and pushed off the couch where I’d crashed sometime around four a.m. I’d dozed maybe an hour, but I hadn’t been able to fall asleep thanks to the stress churning inside me over the day that lay ahead.

Growing grouchier by the second, I shuffled into the kitchen in my wrinkled clothes and filled the coffee pot with fresh water. I wasn’t going to be able to relax until Natalie was out of this damn country. Yeah, I was confident she was safe here on Marco’s property, but I wasn’t at all confident she’d stay put behind the estate’s walls. Natalie James—correction, Natalie Salvatici—had an unpredictable independent streak that made me crazy, and just contemplating all the wild ways she might defy me while we were here...

I flipped the water off and drew a deep breath as I stood over the sink, fighting back an insatiable arousal I had no right to feel and a blistering heat that crossed the fucking wires in my brain. Last night, it had taken every ounce of willpower I possessed not to toss her on that king-sized bed and ravish her. If she’d made any snarky comment when I’d left the room, I’m not sure I’d have been able to resist the urge. But she’d kept her tempting mouth closed. And she hadn’t come looking for me when I didn’t later join her in the one bedroom in this damn tiny cottage. As far as I knew, she didn’t even wonder where I’d gone.

I told myself not to be disappointed by that fact as I shifted my bare feet against the cold tile floor and moved to the coffeemaker. It was better for both of us if we didn’t get distracted by anything emotional or sexual the next few days. Safer too. The last time I’d let myself be distracted by her...

My throat closed as I snapped the lid shut on the coffee machine and hit the start button. Yeah, the last time I’d been distracted by that kind of shit, I’d nearly gotten Natalie killed.

For the next twenty minutes, I focused on making breakfast, a mundane task that took my mind off Natalie and my miserable family. Marco and Fee had stocked the kitchen with everything we’d need for a month—fresh meats from the local butcher, vegetables, and fruits I was sure they’d grown on the property, and pastries and breads I knew their family cook Lucilla had prepared.

Shuffling sounded at my back just as I was finishing the first omelet, followed by a gasp and muttered, “Wow.”

My blood ran hot at the sound of Natalie’s soft voice, but I willed myself to stay in control. As I should have stayed in control from the first moment I’d met her.

“Pretty sure that wow is for the view and not my cooking. Sit down. Breakfast is ready.”

She pulled out the chair with a squeak of the legs against the slate floor. As I shifted the omelet to her plate and added some of the breakfast potatoes I’d made earlier, I caught her wide-eyed stare from the corner of my vision as she looked out at the crystal blue lake framed by towering trees and rolling green hills. “I thought I saw water last night, but I had no idea. It’s gorgeous. Where are we again? This doesn’t look like the mountainous region where your parents live.”

“It’s not.” I set the plate and utensils in front of her. “We’re about forty-five minutes south of them, outside Siena.”

“Oh.”

I couldn’t quite tell if that “oh” was “oh good,” or “oh bad,” and I didn’t feel like asking. Moving to the counter, I poured a fresh cup of coffee, stirred in cream and sugar, and brought it to the table for her.

She glanced from the steaming cup up to my face and said, “Thanks.” And for a split second, I saw what I’d missed earlier because I hadn’t been able to look fully at her.

Her eyes were bloodshot and slightly puffy around the outer edges. And dark crescents marred the soft skin beneath her lower lashes, telling me she hadn’t gotten much more sleep than me.

Guilt stabbed right through the center of my chest. Guilt not just for bringing her here, but because I was the reason for her lack of sleep and red-rimmed eyes.

I averted my gaze and quickly moved back to the stove, focusing on making another omelet so I wouldn’t do or say anything to make the situation worse. With a sigh, she picked up her fork and began eating. Silence filled the kitchen, punctuated only by the sound of the frying pan moving against the stovetop or her utensil scraping her plate.

Tension crackled between us as I flipped off the stove, slid my food to a second plate, and took it and my nearly cold coffee to the other side of the table. A tension I knew she felt too by the way she stiffened and watched me with wary eyes.

I focused on eating, hoping the food would help ease the knot of stress in my gut. By the time I finished, that knot wasn’t any better, especially when I noticed Natalie had barely touched her food.

Shit. I needed more caffeine for this. Pushing up from the table, I glanced at her cup. “You want more coffee?”

She looked down at the half-empty mug and shrugged. “I guess.”

I guess. Man, we were well on our way to convincing everyone we were madly in love.

I took both mugs to the counter and refilled them, the whole time pondering what the hell I could say to break the tension. Everything churning in my head sounded stupid as fuck. Moving back to the table, I set her mug in front of her, sat back in my chair, and wrapped both hands around my cup, deciding enough was enough.

“I know last night Marco told you that you could go anywhere on the property. You can, but it’s important that you don’t leave the estate for any rea—”

“I know. Sela explained it to me. I’m safe behind the walls. Once I leave, I’m fair game.”

My stomach twisted as I glanced at her, staring down at her plate with what I could only describe as a miserable expression.

I fucking hated this. “I’m going to make it right with my father and my House. You won’t be stuck here for long. Once they recognize our marriage, they’ll leave you alone.”

“And if they don’t?”

I wasn’t even going to consider that as a possibility. I lifted the steaming mug to my lips, desperate for the hot brew to incinerate my sudden fear. “They will.”

Her gaze lifted from her coffee to me, and even though I wasn’t looking full at her, I didn’t miss the doubt in her eyes. “And then what? What happens after you convince them we’re married?”

Steps. I could get through this whole shitfest if I focused on the steps that would get us to safety.

“Then,” I said, lowering my coffee once more, “I try to help Dante.”

She didn’t respond, just narrowed her eyes on me in an unreadable way, but I knew the questions were coming. I also knew I’d answer every single one if it would keep her safe.

She eased back in her chair and toyed with the handle of her mug. “So who is Marco to your family?”

“A distant relative.”

“How distant?”

“Several marriages long removed. His family is loyal to our House.”

“You obviously trust him.”

“I do.”

“Then why couldn’t he help Dante?”

“Because he’s not a Knight.” When she only stared at me, I sighed and tried to explain. “Marco and I grew up together. His parents were killed in a car accident when he was a kid. He was raised by his uncle, who is a Knight in the Salvatici House. The Knights are like...” I tried to think of something she would understand. This would be a hell of a lot easier if they had royalty in the US. “They’re like advisers. There are thirteen. All are appointed to the Council of Thirteen by the head of the House—the Granducato di Toscana, or in English, the Grand Duke of Tuscany, who happens to be my father. Marco’s not a Knight, so he has no ruling privileges when it comes to how members, especially Salvatici family members, are disciplined.”

“But his uncle does?”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you ask him to help Dante?”

I lifted my cup to my lips again. “Because Marco’s uncle is as depraved as my brother Giovanni. I don’t trust him any more than I trust the Grande Cavaliere.”

“Sela mentioned this Grande-whatever. He’s some kind of priest?”

I huffed. “No. He’s not religious at all.” He was evil. And I didn’t want Natalie anywhere near him. “The current Grande Cavaliere isn’t someone you ever want to meet face to face. You saw him once before. In that ritual in the woods. He was the one in red.”

Her entire body stiffened in her chair, and without even asking, I knew what she was remembering. The way the Grande Cavaliere had bent that naked beta kitten over the stone altar and fucked her right there in front of everyone.

I looked down at my coffee, my stomach twisting at just the reminder she’d seen that depraved ritual. But I didn’t want to scare her, so I gentled my voice when I said, “There’s no reason you’ll have to meet him personally. Marco would never invite him on the property, not because of you, but because of Fee. Legally, he can’t enter without that invitation.”

She nodded and looked down at her coffee. Unable to stand the silence, I dropped my hand and looked at her. She was studying her cup as if it held the secrets to the universe, but I could tell she had more questions.

Scrubbing a hand over the three days of stubble on my chin, I said, “Just ask whatever you want to ask, Natalie.”

She wrapped her hand around her mug, pulling it closer, and as she did, I spotted the slave tattoo on her finger, visible because she wasn’t wearing her wedding band. “I’m trying to figure this all out. You said Marco wouldn’t invite the Grande Cavalier here because of Felicity. What’s their story? Are they married? Because I didn’t see any rings. But she doesn’t act like a kitten.”

“She’s not a kitten.” I told myself not to be disappointed she’d taken off her ring. She clearly didn’t want to be married to me. It made sense she’d remove the ring in private. But I hated the sight of that word. Wished like hell I’d picked something less vile. And I was scared to death she’d forget to put the ring back on before she left this villa and someone else saw the marking. Not because it would make me look like an ass—I didn’t give a shit about that. But because I was terrified of that word on her skin being reported back to the Thirteen and my father.

“And they’re not married,” I forced myself to say instead of ordering her to put the damn ring back on as I wanted, “because Felicity’s father is the head of House Merrick in England, and—”

“Wait. Felicity’s the one you told me about? The woman in England who educated you about your House and what they were really up to?”

I nodded. “She’s also the one my father tried to set me up with. Neither of us was interested. Marco’s way more her type than me. And she and Marco are not married because her father won’t sanction their marriage while my father and the Grande Cavaliere are in control of House Salvatici.”

Her gaze narrowed again. “I don’t understand.”

I knew she didn’t. I also knew she’d never truly understand because I wasn’t about to tell her what the Grande Cavaliere was capable of.

“Her father doesn’t want her under our House’s rule,” I said, trying to keep it simple. “All five Houses are still very patriarchal. As soon as she marries into House Salvatici, she’s bound to follow our rules. Her father won’t allow that to happen while my father is in command.”

She considered that for a moment. “You said Dante went after your father because Maricella is missing. Why would he blame your father for that?”

Thankful we were off the topic of the Grande Cavaliere, I sighed. “Because my father probably is responsible.” I drained the rest of my cold coffee. “After you and I left Tuscany, Dante moved to Rome with Maricella without my father’s approval. That’s a big-time no-no.”

“So your father did something to Maricella? I don’t get it. Why?”

Of course she didn’t get it. She could never understand the twisted way my House worked. Most of the time, I didn’t understand it, but I’d learned long ago not to question the rules. That’s how people died. “If he did, it was to punish Dante.”

“Do you think he did?”

I eased back in my chair and stared at my empty cup on the scarred wooden table. “I don’t know. It’s possible. My father is all about preserving the old rules.” I lifted my gaze to hers, knowing I wouldn’t hide this truth from her. “He went after you when you fled the villa. I know the things he’s capable of, and, technically, like it or not, Maricella is a kitten. To my father and the other Knights, that means she’s subhuman.”

A sick look passed over Natalie’s face, but she didn’t break eye contact with me. “Dante doesn’t think so.”

“No.” Once again, I was amazed at this woman’s ability to read people. She’d spent only one dinner and one long afternoon with my brother and his kitten, and she’d easily seen a truth it had taken me and my House much longer to see. “I’ll know more once I talk to him. Hopefully then, I’ll have a better idea how I can help him.”

“The only way you’re going to help him is to find her.”

I had a sinking feeling she was right. I looked down at my hand on the table. “I’ll talk to Marco about that on our way to see my father.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “When will you go?”

I sighed and glanced toward the clock above the stove. “As soon as I shower and change. I told Marco I’d be up to the villa after we had breakfast.”

She nodded and looked down at my coffee mug. “And you think you can talk your father into letting Dante go?”

I pushed to my feet and took my empty mug into the kitchen, my brain already skipping ahead to how the hell I was going to do exactly that. “I have to try. Regardless of his faults, he’s my brother. And unlike Giovanni, he’s not a lost cause. He’s still got a heart buried somewhere inside him. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t give a shit what happened to Maricella.”

“And then what?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, setting my cup in the dishwasher.

“After you convince your father to release Dante, then what happens?”

It was the one question I hadn’t anticipated, and it rattled me. More than I liked. I turned toward her and leaned back against the sink, feeling helpless in a way that crippled me. “I don’t know.”

“Will we stay here? Will we go back to the South Pacific? I’m in this now too, Luc, regardless of what either of us wants.”

I knew she was. Just as I knew “we” wasn’t a word she particularly liked right now.

“Then,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, “I’ll find a way to convince my father to let us leave. I’m confident he’ll agree. As long as I play the game and keep showing my face at events like the heir I’m supposed to be, we’ll be fine.”

“But you’ll still be part of all this. This House and these rituals and the illegal activities they promote.”

I didn’t answer. There was no reason to answer. We both knew what I would say.

Fuck, I hated what I’d dragged her into. And I hated that empty look in her pretty blue eyes. The same one I’d seen on my island. The same one that cut me to the quick and made me feel like a half a man.

“Look,” I said, hoping to lift her spirits, even just a little. “If we’re lucky, he’ll let me go back to my job at Covet in New York. All the other shit... Away from this damn country, it’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Except for the part where you go back to being CEO of a fashion magazine that’s primary purpose is recruiting unsuspecting young girls into your House’s beta program.”

Yeah, except for that.

My jaw tightened as I stared at her.

Fuck me, I hated my life.

“I’ll find a way to make it work,” I said, meaning every single word.

“How? You hate that place. We both know it.”

I did hate it, but I could survive it. I could survive anything for her.

“It’s not fair you have to sacrifice yourself for your stupid House.”

My heart pinched because I wanted to read way more into that one comment than she intended.

I quickly pushed away from the sink, knowing if I didn’t get away from her soon, I was going to give in to every one of my urges and show her with my hands and lips and body just how much I wanted to read into that comment. Something I knew wouldn’t go over well considering the current status of our strained relationship. Something I knew would only gut me even more in the long run.

“I learned long ago not to want things, because every time I did, my world turned to shit. This time I’m determined not to let that happen.”

I moved past her for the living room, locking down the guilt and pain I felt anytime I was around her, knowing it would only hinder me where I was heading next. “Please put your ring on before you leave this villa. I trust Marco and Fee, but I don’t trust their staff. There are eyes everywhere. It’s safer for all of us if everyone you encounter thinks you actually want to be my wife.”

She didn’t answer. I didn’t expect her to. But in her silence, I had a sinking feeling I was fighting a losing battle, and that before long, there’d be nothing left for me to do to keep my world from turning to complete shit once and for all.

My insides were a knot of twisting, liquid fire I was afraid might burn a hole through my belly. Or at the very least give me a giant fucking ulcer.

“You sure about this?” Marco asked at my side as we moved up the front steps of my parents’ country estate.

Happy I’d nixed the tie and left my dress shirt unbuttoned so it couldn’t strangle me, I tugged at my sleeve, wishing I’d gone for one with buttons instead of these irritating cufflinks that kept getting caught in my jacket. “No. But the sooner we get this done, the easier it’ll be to breathe.” I glanced sideways at my friend, dressed in a very similar designer white dress shirt, black slacks and jacket. “At least for you.”

Marco grinned, flashing white teeth that contrasted with the dark stubble on his jaw, and slapped a hand against my shoulder. “I will try to breathe for both of us, fratello. And if only one of us leaves here breathing, I vow to take good care of la tua bellissima moglie.”

“You lay one hand on my pretty wife and Felicity will castrate you with a dull knife.”

Marco laughed, the sound—for a moment—relaxing me. “That she would. And I fear she’d enjoy every moment of it. Ah, aren’t we lucky? Two stronzi who, despite our flaws, somehow managed to find the most incredible women to love us.”

Yeah, we were lucky. Or, I had been. For a few days, at least.

Tension churned in my gut as I came to a stop on the top step and looked at the arched iron door. I willed thoughts of Natalie out of my head, knowing they’d do me no good here. Drawing one last breath of free air, I pushed the button and waited while the bells chimed inside the ancient castle, announcing our arrival.

Seconds later, one side of the massive double doors flung open, and my sister Ariana threw her arms around my neck, her long dark hair with that one strip of white near the front swaying behind her.

“Luc!” She gripped me in a fierce hug. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

I captured her before she could knock us both off our feet, thankful she was her normal boisterous self and not in any way damaged by what had happened with Dante. “Me too.”

She let go of my shoulders and dropped to her heels. With one quick smile at Marco, she glanced past me with her dark eyes. “Where is she?”

I knew who Ariana was looking for, just as I knew I wouldn’t tell her. “Not here.” I looked over her into the foyer of the house. “Are Mamma and Papá home?”

“Yes, they’re—”

“Luciano?” My mother’s terse voice echoed through the entryway in time with the click of her heels. Moments later, she appeared at my sister’s back with nothing but disappointment in her light blue eyes. “Come in or leave, but do not stand there with the door open. You’re letting all the cool air out.”

I clenched my jaw to keep from turning around as I wanted to do, and moved into the foyer. “Mamma.” I air kissed her cheeks, but I didn’t make contact, and I didn’t show any affection. She knew why. She showed me just as little in return. “I’ve come to see Papá.”

Ariana moved up on my side. “He’s in the—”

“Ariana,” my mother snapped. “You have schoolwork that needs to be finished.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts. Get upstairs now.”

My sister’s shoulders slumped. She looked up at me with worried dark eyes. “You’re not leaving Italy right away, are you?”

“No.”

Relief passed over her features. “Good. Because if you leave without saying goodbye again, I’m going to disown you forever.”

She pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, then stepped around me and moved for the stairs. Not wanting to get her in trouble, I watched her move up the steps, then glanced at my mother watching Ariana with a perturbed expression on her cultured face.

When Ariana was out of earshot, I said, “She’s twenty-two years old. At some point, you’re going to have to stop treating her like a child.”

“How I treat my daughter is my business and none of yours.” Her spine stiffened. “Now, I’m assuming you’re here to apologize to your father.”

Fat chance in hell. “I’m here to see Dante.”

My mother’s jaw tightened beneath her expensive makeup. “Dante is being punished.”

Yeah, no fucking kidding. But it burned my nerve endings hearing her just toss it out there as if it were no big deal.

“It’s my right to see my brother.”

“That you will have to take up with the Grand Duke. He has final say in everything concerning Dante’s insubordination.”

My mother sounded like she was fucking brainwashed, but then why should that surprise me? She’d been brainwashed by my father and the sick men in my family since long before I was even born.

I fought to keep my temper in check. “Where is he?”

“In his office at the winery.”

I wanted to shake the woman. She could have told me that five fucking minutes ago and saved us both this farce of a conversation. I turned for the door.

“Luciano,” she said, stopping me.

When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw what I’d missed earlier. That wasn’t disappointment in her eyes. It was disgust.

“You will not disgrace this house by bringing that American whore back here again. I will not permit it.”

I’d never wanted to strangle another person as much as I did right now. “Don’t worry, this is the last place she ever wants to visit again. And she’s not a whore, she’s my wife.” My mother’s eyes grew wide and dropped to my left hand and the ring she’d missed earlier. “Accept it or not,” I said as I jerked the front door open. “I don’t really give a shit what you do.”

I moved down the front steps and slid into the passenger seat of Marco’s Mercedes. He joined me seconds later and started the ignition. As we pulled away from the house and turned onto a road that led around the house and down to the vineyard, I knew my mother was watching us from the front stoop.

“Man, you sure know how to make an entrance,” Marco muttered.

Resting my elbow on the windowsill, I rubbed my already aching forehead. “Guarantee she’s on the phone right now, alerting my father we’re on our way.”

We rounded the corner and headed toward the large stone building that housed the winery. As we drew close, three of my father’s bodyguards, each wearing black suits and sunglasses, moved out of the shadows and took up a triangular position in front of the door, blocking our entrance.

“Guarantee he already knows,” Marco answered, pulling to a stop and killing the ignition.

Fuck me. So much for the element of surprise.

I climbed out of the vehicle and buttoned my jacket as I moved toward the three brutes who were each as big as houses. I’d learned long ago not to show fear no matter the circumstance. My House might be able to dictate my life from the shadows, but my father would never make me cower. And I would never again beg for anything from these men.

I stopped in front of them and met their icy stares with one of my own. Tension crackled in the air, then slowly, they each stepped back, leaving a path to the arched wood door. I headed into the winery with Marco at my back.

The small lobby area was empty. Since visitors only ventured onto the Salvatici Winery by invitation, there was no secretary or personnel manning the building and the small tasting counter to my left. I bypassed the warehouse access where the grapes were pressed and fermented, avoided the bottling area, and headed for the curved staircase that led to the main offices on the second level.

My father was exactly where I expected him to be when I pushed one side of his double office doors open without knocking—seated in the big leather chair behind his desk, gazing out the wide arched windows and over the vineyard like the king perched on the top of his fucking throne.

I stepped into the room, leaving the door open for Marco. Then I cleared my throat and waited, knowing it would be enough to piss the old man off.

“I wondered when you would arrive.” My father continued to stare out at the view as if I weren’t even there. “I expected you here at least twenty-four hours ago. That slut you’ve taken up with comes before family now? That is unacceptable, Luciano.”

We were going to do this first? Fucking fantastic.

I’d wanted to strangle my mother mere minutes ago, but that rage didn’t even come close to how much I wanted to choke the life out of my father. “She is family. She’s my wife.” I pulled the document I’d brought with me from my breast pocket, crossed the floor, and slapped it on my father’s desk. He swiveled toward me with shocked eyes. “And call her slut again, and I promise it’ll be the last word you utter.”

His jaw turned to ice beneath his tanned skin, and his infuriated gaze dropped to the paper beneath my hand.

I released the paper so he could read it. “It’s legal. Signed by the Archbishop in Panama. That copy’s for you since I know you don’t believe me. You can look it up. The paperwork’s all been filed and approved.”

My father snatched the paper from the table and lurched to his feet. “This marriage is an abomination and unsanctioned.” He rounded the desk in a flurry of movement. “Where is she? I demand to see her at once.”

My spine stiffened, but I slid my hands into my pockets, relaxing from the shoulders down because my father’s enraged reaction told me what I’d done had been the right decision. Natalie was safe, and I was in control. “You don’t get to demand anything when it comes to my wife. And I’m not here to discuss her. I’m here to discuss Dante.”

My father stopped in front of me with my marriage document crumpled in his fist, his muscles a mass of straining fury. We were roughly the same height, but my father was broader across the shoulders and chest and had me by at least thirty pounds. I was younger and stronger, though, and knew if he came at me, I could hold my own and inflict plenty of my own damage. It wouldn’t be pretty, but I’d stopped being afraid of him when I was twenty, and he knew it. Which only enraged him more.

“Dante is serving his punishment,” my father said from between clenched teeth.

“So I’ve been told. Where is Maricella?”

My father fixed a bored expression on his face. “I don’t have a clue where his beta slut is, nor do I care.”

He was lying. I could read it in his fucked up gray eyes that were exactly like mine.

I let the slut comment pass this time, picking and choosing which war I wanted to escalate. “Dante cares.”

He moved back around his desk, putting the solid piece of furniture between us as if that would protect him. “Dante doesn’t give a shit about anything right now, trust me. He’s refused to answer anything related to his crime. He knows he’s guilty.”

A rage I hadn’t known was still in me gathered in the depth of my soul and rolled to the surface of my control. “If you think you can murder your own flesh and blood and get away with it—”

“Murder?” My father slapped his hands on the desk and glared at me. “If Dante is sentenced to death, the order will come from the Knights, not from me. But, yes, I will oversee the punishment as is my duty by the laws of our House, because he’s too cowardly to open his damn mouth. And you will not interfere, because you have no power over any ruling that comes from the Thirteen.”

He had me there. But I had rights as a member of the accused’s family. “I want to see him.”

My father huffed and pushed away from the desk.

“By the laws of our House, I can demand to see him, and you know that.”

“It will do you no good. He refuses to see anyone.”

I didn’t buy that for a second. I was sure the only person who’d demanded to see him was Ariana, and my father would never let her witness any evidence of his evildoings. He kept her blind and stupid. That was how he liked all his women.

“Either approve my visitation or not. But if you don’t, I’ll take the story to the tabloids. I’m sure there are plenty of reporters who’d love to run with a Salvatici scandal like this. They wouldn’t even have to verify the facts, just let word spread to the leaders of the other Houses.”

My father’s eyes grew darker and more infuriated. “You would bring them into our family business?” he asked quietly.

“To save my brother? You bet your ass I would.”

My father’s jaw clenched so hard, I thought it would snap in two. “Fine.” He dropped into his seat. “Visit him. But it’ll do you no good. He refuses to speak.”

We’d see about that.

I turned for the door. Marco shot me a holy fuck look, then turned out of the room.

“Luciano.”

My feet paused seconds to freedom. I glanced over my shoulder toward my father.

“I will be meeting with the Grande Cavaliere to discuss your marriage.”

That was not going to go over well. While I was confident they couldn’t touch Natalie now that she was my wife, they could come up with all kinds of punishments for me because I’d broken a House rule by marrying her without permission.

I nodded once, letting him know I heard, but I kept my mouth shut. I’d already antagonized my father enough for one day.

I took another step toward the hall.

“There’s a masquerade at the Favero villa tomorrow night,” he called out. “You will attend, end of argument.”

My stomach twisted into a hard knot, but I nodded again in acquiescence and moved out into the hall.

“Cazzo,” Marco muttered as we hustled down the curved stairs toward the lobby. “I thought I was going to have to break up a bloody fistfight in there.”

I didn’t answer. Just pushed the doors open and moved out into the sunlight. But the fresh air didn’t help me breathe any easier. My lungs were squeezed tight as shit with the knowledge I had to attend another one of those fucking parties.

A party Natalie was never going to forgive me for attending without her, and one I would never take her to even if my life depended on it.

The Tomb where Dante was being held was housed in the catacombs of the ancient chapel that sat on my parents’ property. As I followed Marco into the small sanctuary, I tried to keep the sickness at bay.

I’d been here before. It had been twelve years, but the images suddenly flashing behind my eyes were as fresh as the day I’d awoken chained to a chair in that cold dark space, surrounded by screams I couldn’t help.

I averted my eyes from the altar as Marco led me through a door to our right and down a narrow set of curved stone stairs. Irony struck me hard. I was sure my father took great pleasure knowing the Tomb was here, hidden beneath the church where my mother prayed daily for their sins to be forgiven. He was fucked in the head like that. And she was just as fucked for enabling him all these years. If there was a hell, I hoped those two suffered in it for all eternity for the things they’d done.

Two guards met us at the bottom of the staircase. I shivered beneath my jacket as Marco spoke to them in the dim light, the air down here cold and damp. The walls were made of stone, the floor dirt, and eerie orange lights were spaced unevenly across the ceiling of the corridor, making the place look even creepier. As one guard turned to lead the way to Dante’s cell, I noticed a thin river of liquid running down the center of the uneven floor. Liquid I hoped was water and not fresh blood.

Nausea swirled in my stomach. I breathed through my mouth, trying not to smell the dirt and mold and suffering. But the closer we drew to the room where Vittoria had been murdered, my breaths grew faster, and I had trouble putting one foot in front of the other.

I held my breath as we eased closer, but to my relief, the guard moved past that vile room without so much as a glance. He finally came to a stop at the last steel door on the right and pulled out an ancient set of iron keys.

The lock turned with a clank, and the old hinges creaked as he pushed the door open. Stepping back, he said, “Bang on the door when you’re done.”

I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of being locked in that cell, and if I was alone, I’d never agree, but I knew there was no way they’d lock Marco in this place. His uncle—as depraved as the man was—would never stand by while his blood was punished because of me.

I followed Marco into the cell. One lone orange light shone down from above, casting a cone of illumination over the central part of the room. The place smelled like death and misery. But it was the figure on a shadowed pile of blankets in the corner that drew my attention. The figure shivering in the cold in nothing but jeans and a filthy thin blue T-shirt.

“Porca puttana.” I crossed the floor in three steps and whipped off my jacket. “Marco, help me.”

“Mio Dio.” Marco dropped to his knees on the blankets near Dante’s head and lifted my brother’s torso from the ground so I could wrap my jacket around him. “What the hell did they do to him?”

“I don’t know.”

One whole side of his face was swollen and black and blue. His eyes were only half-open, his pupils dilated in a way that told me he was drugged, and his arms were clutched to his waist, protecting what I suspected were more bruises to his ribs.

He mumbled something under his breath that was incoherent and sounded like gibberish.

“Fucking monsters.” I wrapped my coat around him as best I could, then helped Marco lay him back on the thin blanket.

My suit jacket wasn’t going to keep him warm. Reading my mind, Marco shimmied out of his own coat and laid it over the top of Dante as my brother closed his eyes and tossed his head, continuing to mumble in that incoherent voice that sounded nothing like him.

“Cazzo.” On my knees, my palms on my thighs, I stared down at my brother, disbelief roaring inside me.

My father had ordered this. To his own flesh and blood. All because Dante had dared to fall in love with someone my father disapproved of.

“You gotta keep it together, man,” Marco said in a low voice beside me. “He let you come down here because he wants you to react to this. The second you go after him, he’ll throw your ass in one of these cells and do the same thing to you. That won’t help Dante. And it sure as hell won’t help your woman.”

I knew that. But my jaw clenched so hard with a need to retaliate that I feared I nearly cracked the bone. “He did this as a warning to me.”

“Damn right he did.” Marco looked down at my brother. “Which is why you can’t let him win now. Too much is riding on you.”

I heard the hidden meaning in Marco’s words, but I refused to be swayed by them. It was the same damn argument he’d used on me for years, only he didn’t realize it would never work. I didn’t give a fuck about this House or where it was heading. All I cared about was getting my brother out of this hellhole. And keeping Natalie safe.

“Cella,” Dante muttered, tossing his head from side to side. “Mar-cella. Have to...find...her.”

“We’ll find her, fratello.” Marco smoothed the hair back from Dante’s damp forehead. “Don’t worry about Maricella. We’ll take care of her.”

To me, Marco whispered, “He’s got a fever. Probably from infection. No wonder he hasn’t filed a plea. If we don’t get this infection down before Saturday...”

Then he’d be dead one way or another.

My jaw clenched even harder as I pushed to my feet. “Stay with him while I get the guards.”

“Don’t antagonize them, Luc.”

Fuck that. I’d antagonize whoever the hell I wanted in this shithole.

I banged my fist against the door. Bootsteps echoed down the corridor, followed by the rusted hinges squealing as the guard opened the door. One look at my face, and he drew back a step. “Done already?”

“No, I’m not done. And neither are you. He’s on fire. You’re going to take me to get some fucking antibiotics or I’ll make sure the Grand Duke knows you let his son die of infection on your watch.”

The guard’s face paled. He peered past me into the room where Marco was still sitting with Dante, then looked quickly down the hall to the other guard stationed at the entrance to the Tomb. “Quickly. Come.”

“Smart move.” Temper barely contained, I moved out of the cell and stepped around the second guard, rushing to keep an eye on Dante while the first followed me toward the exit. “You may get to keep your life.”

The guard cast a worried glance my way.

“For now,” I muttered as we reached the steps. “But the Grand Duke’s not going to live forever.”

The words felt foreign and revolting on my tongue, but for the first time in my life, I relished where my destiny was ultimately leading, because this was a promise I knew I could absolutely keep.

“And if my brother dies, you bet your ass I’m going to remember who you are when I inherit my title.”