The bed dipped hours later. I opened my eyes to find the room completely dark.

“Shh.” Luc whispered, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

My eyes slid closed, and I started to drift back into oblivion, but the sound of fabric rustling brought them open again. Pushing up on my hand, I blinked and spotted Luc on the far side of the bed, pulling on his jeans. That chill I’d felt after we’d made love came rushing back, making me shiver. “Where are you going?”

“I have to meet my father. He wants to talk.”

I glanced at the clock. It was one fifty-two a.m. “Now?”

“Yeah. When he’s had too much wine, he doesn’t sleep.” He buttoned his jeans, pulled on his shirt, then climbed on the bed and braced his hands on either side of me. His stormy eyes were intensely focused as they gazed down at me. “I’ll be back by dawn. Keep the doors locked and wait for me, angioletto. We’ll leave as soon as we can. Then all this will be a memory.”

He leaned down and kissed me. It was a fast kiss, a chaste kiss, but alarm shot through me because I saw both urgency and fear in his eyes just before our lips met.

Confused, I watched him round the bed and move toward the open balcony doors. That cold space inside my chest expanded, and the same sense of dread I’d felt after we’d made love sent my heart racing. I grasped the sheet at my breasts and sat up. “Luc, wait.”

He stopped at the doorway and glanced back at me. “Yeah?”

I didn’t want him to walk out that door. I was suddenly terrified of what would happen if he walked out that door. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Everything’s fine. It will be fine. I’ll make it fine, I promise. Go back to sleep and dream about me.”

He was gone before I could stop him. Before I could think of a sane argument to keep him with me. For a heartbeat, I sat still in the big bed where I’d truly given myself to him only hours ago and told myself I was being silly. There was nothing wrong. He was just going to talk to his dad. I should go back to sleep like he’d said. But that chill inside me was spreading, and I had a sudden fear if it overtook my heart, everything between us would change forever.

I threw back the covers and tugged on my pajama bottoms and T-shirt before I could change my mind. My pulse pounded as I followed him out onto the balcony. A trellis ran down the side of the villa just outside my window, and I quickly realized he’d used it to get in and out of my room.

Movement caught my attention across the courtyard far below. Narrowing my eyes, I watched a dark silhouette—Luc’s dark silhouette—stride away from the U-shaped villa, turn left, and disappear into the trees.

That chill turned to ice in the center of my chest. If he was going to talk to his father as he’d told me, why was he heading into the trees? Wouldn’t he meet his dad somewhere in this massive castle?

My stomach churned with both fear and doubt as I stared into the dark, trying to make sense of what I’d seen. I wanted to believe him, I wanted to trust him, but he’d been acting strange ever since his mother had shown up in Venice. Everything since then—his mood, his tone, his actions—had been erratic, and I needed to understand why. A tiny voice in the back of my head warned not to follow him, but I sensed there was more going on than he’d said, and I suddenly needed to know why he’d lied to me.

Urgency pushed me into action. Grasping the trellis with sweaty hands, I slowly began to climb. Halfway down, I realized I was barefoot. I knew I should go back up and grab my Skechers, but I was afraid if I did, I’d lose him in the trees. I couldn’t lose him. I needed to know where he was going. I needed to know what was really going on.

I reached the stone courtyard and paused to swipe my damp palms on my thighs. Nothing moved around me. The villa was dark and quiet, and all signs of the earlier party had been swept away. My shallow breaths lifted my chest as I pushed my bare feet forward, crossing the cobblestones as quietly as I could. At the edge of the courtyard, I peered into the trees. It was so dark, I could barely see. But I knew Luc had gone this way, and I couldn’t turn back now.

I let my eyes adjust to the night and used what little illumination there was from the stars to guide my way. He’d turned left when he’d exited the courtyard. Moving in that direction, I found a well-used path that led into the forest—one we hadn’t taken earlier on my tour of the property. My stomach twisted as I stared into the darkness. I couldn’t see Luc. I couldn’t hear him, but I took a chance he’d gone this way and stepped onto the dirt.

Dry earth squished between my toes. The night air was cool, not cold—mid-sixties—but I shivered as I walked, not from the temperature, but from the chill inside me. The path wove down the hillside, away from the winery and villa and into a small valley. My anxiety inched up the farther I moved away from the house. An owl hooted in the canopy like an ominous warning. The rapid flap of bats and other things I didn’t want to think about sent my nerves humming. I came to a small stream and had to pick my way across exposed rocks in the bed. Twice I slipped, and the hem of my pajama bottoms dipped into the cold water. Once I reached the far side, I shook the water from my cotton pants as best I could and scanned the dark forest. But I saw no sign of Luc.

That chill swirled inside me, making my hands cold and clammy. This was stupid. I didn’t know where I was or where I was even going. I should head back before I got lost in these woods. Luc had told me to stay put. If he came back to my room and found me gone, he’d flip out. After everything that had happened between us recently, did I really want to risk our relationship all because I thought I’d seen something in his eyes that might not have been there?

My hands shook, and I turned back toward the stream, intent on rushing back to my room before Luc realized I was gone. Just as I placed my bare foot on the closest rock, voices drifted on the air and reached my ears.

I stilled. Turned my head. Listened. They were male voices. I stepped away from the brook and squinted to see down the path. Nothing but darkness met my eyes, but those were definitely voices. Many.

My feet moved forward, drawn toward the sound as if being pulled by an invisible tractor beam. I pushed vines and tree limbs out of my way as I followed the path down the hill, shivering with each step. A hundred yards deeper into the forest, I spotted a warm, flickering glow in the dark valley below and slowed my steps. The voices grew louder. I strained to hear what they were saying, but the words were in Italian, not English, and the men were all speaking at once.

No, the men were all chanting at once.

The chill inside me grew ice cold, and my pulse shot into the stratosphere. Instinct pushed me off the path and into the brush. Instead of moving toward the sounds, I picked my way parallel to it, searching for a place where I could see what was happening far below. Twigs scraped my arms and pulled at my pant legs. A rock dug into the sole of my foot, making me wince and stumble. My pulse was a whir in my ears, but I didn’t turn back. I had to see what was going on. I needed to know what I’d heard.

I caught sight of stars and realized the trees were thinning out. The voices were louder here, the golden glow growing stronger. Easing my way around large boulders and small saplings, I finally reached what looked like a rock outcropping. Carefully, so I wouldn’t give myself away, I stepped up behind a boulder half my size and peered over the edge of the small cliff I’d found.

Thirty yards below, torches were lit on the edge of a clearing. Black figures dressed in hooded capes stood in a circle around a large, flat, rectangular stone, chanting words I didn’t understand. Their faces were completely covered by stark white bauta masks with overaccentuated noses, protruding chins, no mouths, and cutouts for eyeholes. Parallel to the large rock, one man wore a blood-red cape, standing out among all the rest. His hood wasn’t up like the others. Instead, he wore a wide-brimmed black hat on the top of his head, pinned up on both sides and in the back to form a triangular shape. Under that, a thick drape of red, gold, and swirling black fabric dropped to his biceps and the middle of his back like a veil. And when he turned, I saw his mask wasn’t white. It was gold.

My spine stiffened, and fear shot through me as I ducked behind the rock so he wouldn’t see me. Fingers shaking, I braced them on the stone and peered around the edge, trying to see what was happening. Two hooded black figures on the far side of the clearing stepped back, opening the circle. Four women, dressed in short, white, nearly see-through cotton dresses and black cat-style eye masks, moved into the circle.

Their feet were bare, their shoulders lifted, their heads held high. They didn’t seem scared but…something about the way they were paraded into the middle of the circle felt wrong. Something about the way the men in masks surrounding them watched their every movement felt sinister. My heart raced as I held my breath and watched, wondering what was going on.

The women circled the flat black slab, stopping when one stood on each side. Each faced the stone and reached out her hands, forming a circle inside the circle. The women’s lips began to move, and I heard a new chant rising from the clearing. Soft at first, then growing in strength and intensity and speed. The red-cloaked figure stepped forward and slowly walked around behind the women as they chanted. When the women’s chanting reached a crescendo, he halted behind one on the far end.

The women’s voices cut off. The other three women turned to look at the fourth, standing in front of the man in red. They released each other’s hands and stepped back, away from the rock slab. And before I realized what was happening, the man in red reached for the remaining woman’s flimsy white dress and tore it from her body.

The scrap of fabric fell to the ground at her feet. With a hand between her shoulder blades, he pushed her forward. The woman bent over the end of the stone—no, altar, I realized—and arched her back. And as she did, I caught sight of an elaborate leopard-print tattoo across her right hip and up her rib cage.

The men in black forming the circle began to chant again. My stomach pitched, and my mouth grew dry. The red-cloaked figure stared down at her from behind the grotesque gold mask. The chanting grew louder until it was a roar in the small valley, until I felt it stirring in my veins. Then, in a rush of movement, he parted his cape to reveal his rigid erection and slammed into her.

Shocked, I gasped and shot back, falling on my butt in the dirt. Realizing what I’d done, I quickly covered my mouth with my hand so I wouldn’t give myself away, but I couldn’t force my legs to move. I couldn’t make myself look away either.

The woman’s groans echoed through the small valley as the man continued to ram into her in time with the chants. Slowly, I became aware of movement around the circle. The other three women were now also naked, writhing and rubbing against the men standing still in black as if possessed by their chants, by what they were watching, by some unseen, depraved force.

I wasn’t sure what I was seeing. All that registered was that it was something I was definitely not supposed to be seeing.

I scrambled back, my fingernails and heels digging into the dirt as I tried to push myself up. The red-cloaked man continued to pummel the woman, and she screamed as if she couldn’t get enough. But something about the whole scene felt wrong, and as I pushed myself onto my hands and knees and stumbled for my footing, I realized what that was.

The sounds coming from that woman were the same sounds I’d heard in that house Gio had taken me to on Long Island. The same sounds I’d heard in that orgy room. The same sounds I’d made myself that night.

Possessed sounds. Uninhibited sounds. Drugged sounds.

Nausea swirled inside me as I braced an unsteady hand against the rock at my side and leveraged myself upright, trying not to alert anyone below to my presence. I didn’t know if that woman was drugged. I didn’t know if any of them were. I didn’t want to stick around to find out.

The trees swam around me. My whole body shook, but I dug my feet into the ground and forced my legs into a sprint, wanting only to get as far from this nightmare as I could. Wanting to forget everything I’d just witnessed.

I made it as far as the path before panic made me stumble. I hit the ground with a grunt. Voices echoed behind me, down in the clearing. Shouts and groans and a muffled rumble of words—no longer chanting.

Panic turned to a bone-melting fear that I’d been spotted. I clawed my way to my feet and shoved my legs into a run. Rocks and twigs stabbed into the soles of my feet but I didn’t slow my steps. A rustle sounded to my right, sending my adrenaline soaring. I panted and tried to run faster up the hillside. Told myself not to look back. Told myself to keep going no matter wha—

A hand closed around my arm and yanked me off my feet. I screamed as I slammed into something hard. Another hand quickly slapped over my mouth, muffling the sound, and hauled me back against a large, hard body.

I was jerked off the path and into the trees. I thrashed and kicked, trying to break free. Tree limbs scraped my arms and legs as the man—I knew it was a man from his size and hold—pulled me deeper into the forest. Something solid cracked against my elbow. Images of what I’d seen swirled in my brain, and I fought harder. I shrieked beneath the hand at my mouth and struggled away from the breath on my neck. Whoever held me was whispering, but I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. I shook my head, trying to ignore his harsh words near my ear, trying not to listen to his voice because I didn’t want to hear his vile chants or—

Something inside me faltered because I recognized that voice. It was deep. It was familiar. It almost sounded like—

“It’s me, Natalie,” the voice hissed near my ear. “It’s Luc. Stop fighting me, dammit. They’re going to hear you.”

I went still as stone.

“That’s right,” Luc whispered behind me. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to help you.”

Disbelief formed a ball of pressure in my chest. I gripped the arm clamped tightly against my chest, afraid to believe what I was hearing. “Luc?” I mumbled beneath the hand still covering my mouth. “My Luc?”

“Yes, your Luc.”

All the fear inside me broke. I sagged back into him as my adrenaline crashed. His hold on me loosened, and I heard him whisper, “Angioletto,” but a relieved sob was already wedging its way up my throat, preventing me from responding.

Turning quickly, I pressed my face against his chest and wrapped my arms around his waist, holding on as the shakes consumed me. His arms closed around me like steel bands, and he held me to him, pressing his big hand to the back of my head, cradling me against him while he bathed me in his strength. I heard his voice at my ear telling me I was safe, telling me everything was going to be okay, but it didn’t help. Squeezing my eyes tighter, I burrowed in closer, needing his warmth, needing the goodness inside him to push away the darkness I’d just witnessed.

My hands shifted at his lower spine as I tried to get closer. Fabric brushed my fingers. Something hard bumped against my elbow. Sensations I didn’t understand drew me back from the edge of hysteria. I tried to focus on what I’d felt and straightened my fingers where they rested against his lower back. Soft, silky fabric skimmed my hand. Fabric that sent a new sense of dread spiraling through me.

I didn’t want to see. I didn’t want to know. But I couldn’t stop myself from looking. Shifting my hands to his ribs, I pushed back. His whispered words died on his lips, and his muscles flexed, preventing me from easing away. For a heartbeat, I thought he wouldn’t let me go, but then he released me.

My heart beat hard and fast as I moved a step back and looked at him in the dim light. A black cape, just like the ones I’d seen in that clearing, hung from his shoulders and fell down his back to his heels. My gaze drifted to his arm, where a white bauta mask was hooked over his elbow.

“No.” Bile pushed up my throat all over again, and I stumbled back, not wanting to believe what I was seeing was real. “No.” I covered my mouth with my hand and shook my head violently, trying not to gag. “No, no, no.”

“Natalie.” Luc moved toward me, his muscles coiled and tight, his eyes as hard as I’d ever seen them. “Don’t move.”

My heart thundered against my ribs as I stared at him in shock and disbelief, and my skin grew hot and tight with a hysteria that sent my horror into overdrive. I grappled for some kind of explanation for the cape and mask, for something to tell me what I was seeing wasn’t real. But it was real. It was right in front of me.

He was wearing the same outfit the men in that circle were wearing. He was one of them. He was one of those men who’d taken part in that…cultlike ceremony.

“Natalie,” he said in a low voice. “Just listen.”

I couldn’t. Sickness shot up my throat. I couldn’t listen to any more of his lies. I turned and sprinted before he could stop me.

---

Luc slammed into me before I ran more than twenty yards. The air whooshed out of my lungs. My feet left the ground. I grunted as I flew forward and only barely had time to lift my hands before I smashed into the dirt.

Pain shot up my hands and into my arms, and I groaned. My pajama bottoms tore. Something sharp stabbed into my calf, sending a burn across my flesh. I struggled beneath him and rolled, trying to break free of his hold, but he was too big. Too strong. He flipped me to my back with ease and grasped both of my flailing arms, pinning me to the ground.

“Stop it,” he growled. “Natalie, Dio dannato, stop fucking fighting me.”

Panic and terror crashed into me, and I kicked and twisted and flailed my head as hard as I could, desperate for the moment he loosened his grip and I could break free. “Let me go,” I snarled. “Let me go, dammit.”

He slapped a hand over my mouth and lowered his full weight onto me, trapping me between the hard earth and his even harder body. I gasped beneath his palm as his weight pushed the air out of my lungs. He must have heard me wheeze for breath, because he eased up on my chest. I sucked in air, but before I could lash out again, he leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Don’t make a sound. Someone’s on the path. They must have heard us. If they find us, they’ll kill us both.”

His words sent a chill down my spine, and the ramifications of what I’d seen—what I wasn’t supposed to have seen—hit me full force.

I stilled my fight and strained to listen over the roar of blood in my ears. Above me, Luc held himself immobile, his head angled toward the path. My gaze lifted to him, and in the dim light, I saw the anxiety in his features as he waited. When the low murmur of voices reached my ears, my eyes flew wide, and a new sense of terror engulfed me.

Luc looked down at me and shook his head, telling me to stay still. Dread shot straight into my shattered heart. My shallow breaths echoed in my ears, and against me, I felt his heart speed up with a rush of adrenaline. I swallowed hard beneath his hand, and the urge to run again rushed through me, but I resisted, not wanting to do anything to draw attention. After what seemed like an agonizing lifetime, footsteps receded on the path until the only sound I heard was my own pounding heart and the hoot of an owl high above.

Slowly, Luc lifted his hand from my mouth and eased off me, but he didn’t let me go. He wrapped his fingers around my wrist in a viselike grip and pulled me to my feet. With one glance over his shoulder toward the path, he said, “Come on. We need to get you back to the villa before anyone sees you.”

I was too scared to do anything but let him lead me through the trees back up the hill. My arms and legs shook as we picked our way through the dark forest, careful to stay off the path. Rocks and twigs and tree roots stabbed into the soles of my feet, and I stumbled several times, but Luc was right there to catch me, pulling me up next to him and keeping me close.

I wanted to jerk away from his hold but didn’t trust myself not to trip and fall, and my head was spinning with confusion over his actions. Somewhere inside me, I recognized he was trying to keep me safe, but every time I looked at that cape hanging from his neck, sickness surged up my throat.

Shivering in the cool air, I blinked to keep the trees in focus, but images of that clearing, of those masks and capes, swirled in my head. And the sounds of the woman’s groans and drugged-out screams echoed in my ears as we walked, melding with those voices, chanting louder and louder with every step.

My body swayed, and in a daze, I realized my adrenaline was crashing. I was in some kind of shock, but I couldn’t stop it from happening. My head grew light, and the forest spun.

I must have stumbled, because Luc turned back to me, muttered, “Cazzo,” and swept me into his arms. I pressed a hand against his chest and tried not to lean into him, but my muscles weren’t working. Darkness surrounded me like thick, cloistering smoke. I closed my eyes, breathing slowly through my nose so it couldn’t pull me under.

“Hold on, Natalie,” Luc whispered somewhere close. “I’ve got you. Everything’s going to be okay.”

I didn’t know how anything would ever be okay again. Everything I thought I knew was a lie. Wood scraped, and I felt soft fabric beneath me. Something brushed my lips.

“Drink,” Luc said. “It’ll help.”

I opened my mouth. Cool water passed over my tongue, and I swallowed. Grasping what I realized was a glass at my lips, I took it from him and tipped my head back, drawing in large gulps that didn’t come close to quenching my sudden thirst.

“Go easy,” Luc whispered, still close. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

I ignored him and sucked back the familiar liquid until my senses slowly returned and the darkness receded. When I couldn’t drink anymore, I lowered the glass.

I was back in my room in the villa. The red comforter lay beneath me on the massive bed. A gentle breeze blew through the open balcony doors, rustling the gauzy fabric at each of the four posts. The room was dark, but across the space, I spotted the comfortable chair I’d lounged in earlier in the day, and the large stone fireplace I’d wanted to fill with wood and light just to see it blazing with warmth.

I shivered, unable to remember what it felt like to be warm. Everything inside me was cold. Ice cold. I didn’t know how I’d gotten here. I didn’t remember climbing the trellis or Luc carrying me in through the door and up the stairs. All I remembered was seeing Luc in that black robe, holding that mask that made me want to vomit.

My gaze drifted to where he knelt in front of me, his hands resting on the thighs of my ripped and filthy pajama pants. He was still wearing that vile cape. I didn’t know where the mask was, but I didn’t care. Sickness swirled inside me again, and I closed my eyes, breathing deeply to fight it back.

“It’s not what you think,” he said quickly.

I struggled to find my voice as a searing pain stabbed at my foolish heart with the force of a thousand tiny daggers. “You’re wearing that cape. I saw your…mask.”

Occult images I’d seen on the Internet hit me full force, making my stomach pitch. Bracing my hands on the mattress at my sides, I rocked forward and back, fighting the pain, the nausea, fighting to keep both at bay.

“Natalie.” His fingers dug into my thighs. “Listen to me. That’s not me. I didn’t want to go tonight. I didn’t want to come here because I was afraid they’d call a meeting. I hate all this. I only went tonight to keep you safe. I went—”

My eyes shot open, and revulsion swirled inside me like a tornado. “You went to keep me safe?” I shoved at his hands, unable to bear his touch anymore. He fell back on his heels. “What about that woman? Does she even know what they’re doing to her? Even from where I was hiding, I could tell she was high.”

He rested his hands on his thighs and watched me carefully, but he didn’t try to touch me again. “If she was high, that was her choice.”

My stomach rolled all over again.

“Listen to me. I know you think you saw some kind of satanic ritual, but you didn’t. You saw a sex party, nothing more. It was consensual. She agreed to it. All the women agreed to it.” When I opened my mouth to protest, he added, “They were paid to be there, Natalie. They were paid very well.”

My mouth drifted closed, and I stared at him in utter disbelief.

“You saw the tattoo up her side, right?” Luc asked. “The leopard print? You’ve seen it before. When you were with Giovanni.”

My mind shot back to that party on Long Island. I swallowed hard at the memory of those two women with Gio removing their clothing. Both of their bodies had been marked with the same kind of leopard-print tattoo. One woman’s had run from her thigh up to her breast. The other’s had spread across her lower spine and between the cheeks of her ass.

“They’re sex kittens, Natalie. Women who get paid to participate in parties exactly like the one you saw in the woods. Exactly like that one on Long Island.”

My head swam. Was he telling the truth? I pushed to my feet, unable to sit still, and paced the dark room. Did it really matter? Bile pushed up my throat either way. “No.” I shook my head. “If that’s what you’re into, then—”

“It’s not what I’m into.” He rose and faced me. “I told you, I hate this part of my family.”

I stopped and stared at him, waiting for more. Waiting for something that would explain all this.

“Cazzo.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t have a lot of time. They’re going to notice I’m gone soon, and if that happens, we’ll really be in trouble. So I’m going to explain this to you as simply as I can.”

He moved toward me and stopped inches away. His heat and familiar scent surrounded me, bringing a rush of emotion followed by a surge of disgust. I fought the urge to move back, because I sensed if I did, he wouldn’t tell me what I needed to hear. And I did need it. I needed something true to hold on to, because I felt like I was on the verge of going insane.

“I told you before that my family is very powerful. They’re incredibly powerful. Not just here but around the globe. With that power comes a responsibility to contain and command. The early founders of my family’s House learned long ago that the important leaders they needed on their side could be manipulated through the most basic human urge: sex. They’ve used that. They set up these events—that scene you saw in the woods, that orgy Gio took you to in New York—and they give those leaders a taste of the forbidden. It’s not satanic. It’s just sex. And it’s blackmail. They record everything. Someone was out in those woods videotaping that scene. They use it to keep those leaders in line. It’s a give and take. Those men get what they want, and in turn, they make the financial, political, or social decisions that benefit our House. That woman knew what was going on. She’s loyal to the Salvatici House. She’s being paid handsomely for her time.”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was laying it all out there as if it were no big deal. Sex rituals. Blackmail. Describing his family like some crazy world dynasty. I pressed a hand to my head, unable to sift truth from lie. The only thing I knew for certain was that if there was any truth in his words, he was omitting an awful lot.

“Are...” I swallowed hard because I was almost afraid to ask what was suddenly spinning in my mind. “Are you talking about the Mafia?”

“No. The Mafia is made up of thugs and low-life criminals looking to make a quick buck.”

I breathed a little easier.

“My family’s roots run back thousands of years. To an entente whose alliances and conflicts have shaped more than just history, they’ve shaped entire maps. The Salvatici reach extends past that of any Mafia. And trust me when I say their vengeance is a hell of a lot more dangerous.”

I didn’t understand what he was saying. But the chilling way in which he said it made the blood drain from my face. I dropped my hand and stared at him as fear shot right back through my belly.

He took my cold hand and wrapped his strong fingers around mine. “You were not supposed to see what you did tonight. If they find out you were there…” He squeezed my hand. “If they find out, we’re both in danger. I didn’t want to bring you here. I didn’t want you to see any of this. But I promise you, I will keep you safe. It’s just very, very important that you do exactly what I say from now on. I have to go back before someone realizes I’m missing. I need you to stay in this room with the doors and windows locked. Do not let anyone in. Do not turn on any lights. Let them think you’ve been sleeping all night. In the morning, we’re free to go. It’s extremely important that you act normal in front of my family before we leave. Can you do that?”

My tongue was so dry, I couldn’t form words. He kept using ominous terms like danger, safe, free… Words I didn’t understand. And as I stood in front of him, I had a sudden memory flash of him pinning me to the forest floor and whispering haunting words in my ears. Words that now sent a tremble of terror through my whole body. “If they find us, they’ll kill us both.”

“Natalie?”

He squeezed my hand, and the pressure jolted me out of the memory. Somehow, I found the strength to nod, but…oh God…

He breathed a sigh that sounded full of relief and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, tugging me into the warmth of his chest. I didn’t try to stop him. I didn’t lift my hands and hug him back either. I couldn’t do anything but stand completely still as my brain skipped over everything he’d just told me.

“I’ll keep you safe, angioletto,” he whispered into my hair. “Trust me. I’d do anything for you. Anything at all.” His lips brushed my temple. “Lock the doors after me. I’ll come for you as soon as I can. I promise, in a matter of hours, all this will be a memory.”

He let go of me and crossed to the balcony doors. Still too dazed to speak, I watched his cape rustle behind him as he turned and smiled sadly at me in a way that did nothing to alleviate my fear. He closed the doors at his back, and a scraping sound echoed outside. I knew he was climbing down the trellis, but I didn’t move to the window to watch. I didn’t feel anything but confused and numb.

As the sounds dissipated, I crossed back to the bed and lowered myself to the edge.

Sex kittens…

Salvatici House…

Orgies…

Blackmail…

Power…

Control…

Entente…

His words tumbled through my mind, spinning faster with every passing second. I didn’t know what was truth. I didn’t know what was lies. Out of nowhere, the memory of that fanatic who’d attacked me in Rome filled my head. Luc had thought he’d been trying to hurt me, but I’d sensed he was trying to save me in some way.

Save me from Luc? Save me from the Salvatici family? Save me from this entente he’d said shaped borders?

My hands grew damp, and a hard lump wedged its way into my throat. I needed answers. I needed confirmation that any of what Luc had told me was real.

Pushing to my feet, I rushed across the room, tugged open the wardrobe closet, and grabbed my purse. I found my cell phone in the front pocket, turned it on, and checked my signal. There were just enough bars for me to pull up the Internet. I decided to start with the most pressing lie—or truth. I typed in the words sex kitten.

The first few pages brought up links for porn movies and articles about how to make your wife crave sex. I went back to the search bar and added the words leopard-print tattoo. This time I got Twitter links and articles about women who were addicted to sex. I scrolled through the first two pages, thinking this search was a bust too, but stopped on the third page when I spotted a link about sex-kitten programming.

My fingers shook as I clicked the link. And what I read turned my stomach in a way that made me cover my mouth with my hand to keep from vomiting.

The term sex kitten was used interchangeably with the words beta slave or beta kitten—a sexually programmed female trained to ignore her moral convictions and inhibitions and unleash her most primitive, erotic instincts. The article discussed the scenarios these women endured in their training, the way their minds learned to swap pain for pleasure, their “programmers” who groomed them in how to dress and act seductive and serve any number of men at any time when called upon. My stomach swirled as I scrolled down and pictures appeared on my screen—symbols and colors associated with sex-kitten programming.

Leopard print was a big one. Several images of women with leopard-print tattoos on different parts of their bodies, just like on the woman I’d seen in the trees, flashed on my screen. Purple dresses, shoes, clothing… The color purple seemed to represent the disassociation of the mind in kitten programming. Cat or kitten masks, like the ones I’d seen on those women at the masquerade party on Long Island and in that clearing in the woods, appeared in front of my eyes. And butterflies—in tattoos, fabrics, hair clips. According to this article, the butterfly was the symbol of Monarch Programming, the method used by numerous organizations to create mind-controlled slaves of all kinds, including sex-kitten slaves, who could be triggered at any time to perform any task or action by a handler. Horror rushed through me when I read that Monarch Programming was a continuation of the MK-ULTRA program developed by the CIA and tested on both military and civilians in the United States.

My pulse beat hard and fast. With shaking fingers, I opened another tab and typed in Monarch Programming Organizations. Several pages about the CIA came up. I ignored those and kept searching. Halfway down, I spotted an article with the title: Entente.

A looming sense of doom I couldn’t shake pressed hard against my shoulders. I clicked the link with a trembling hand. It was in Italian. I pulled up a translation page and began reading in English. To my distress, the Salvatici name was right at the top, and just as Luc had said, his family’s lineage ran all the way back to Augustus—the first emperor of Rome.

I continued to read. The article listed thirteen main bloodlines, or Houses, all linked in some way to someone important in ancient Rome. The families had constantly fought for power, but in AD 476, after the fall of the Roman Empire, the thirteen Houses finally met in Venice to discuss the creation of an alliance. There, they signed the Treaty of Entente and decided that instead of bickering amongst themselves, they had the opportunity for great wealth and power if they could find a way to work together. From that day on, the Houses worked behind the scenes to direct the future of Europe. They were responsible for the rise of popes, for the fall of great leaders, for conquests, revolutions, industrialization, and even wars that—as Luc had said—shaped the boundaries of what was today modern Europe.

My head swam as I paged down. Over time, the Houses intermarried. They spread across the continents. And as civilization grew, so did the Entente’s reach. Today, according to the article, only five Houses remained—the five strongest in each powerhouse of Western Europe—one in England, one in France, the others in Germany, Spain, and Italy. But those five houses were no longer concerned with shaping Europe. They were reportedly involved in all kinds of illicit activities all over the globe, ranging from illegal drugs, prostitution, arms trafficking, gambling rings, human trafficking, and black market trade of every kind—gems, gold, animals, art and artifacts…

My pulse sped up as I scanned the never-ending list. It was organized crime at a level I couldn’t comprehend.

Swallowing hard, I continued to page down. Various symbols I didn’t understand filled the screen—an all-seeing eye that looked like a sun, a dragon in the shape of a fleur-de-lis, a triangular ornament of three interlocking arcs surrounded by a serpent, a triple spiral with tips like claws and lines resembling snakeskin. I also saw images of black capes and white bauta masks like the ones I’d witnessed in that clearing, and in every picture, one man in a red cape with a gold mask and tricorn hat, and the words Grande Cavaliere beneath.

An uncontrollable tremor claimed me, not because the men were doing anything deviant in the photos—they weren’t, they were simply standing still, staring at the camera—but because of what I saw in their eyes. Power. Control. Domination. As if they were gods. As if they knew they lorded ultimate supremacy over every living thing on the planet. And the Grande Cavaliere’s coal black eyes behind his gold mask absolutely chilled me to my core because they were different. They weren’t smug like the others. They were blank. Unreadable. Empty. Dead.

I swallowed hard and scrolled down again, not wanting to look at those eyes a moment longer, but stopped when I saw an image I recognized well. The website called it an ouroboros and said it was a symbol of eternity and continual renewal, but I knew it as a circular serpent with wings, consuming its tail. I knew it because Luc had a tribal tattoo on the inside of his left calf of the exact same serpent with the exact same words in the middle of the circle.

La vita eterna.

Eternal life.

It wasn’t just a simple tattoo. It was a signet. In a rush, I realized the symbols I’d seen earlier were all signets of different Houses. I forced myself to continue reading and learned that the House bearing the ouroboros signet was responsible for heroin smuggling into postcommunist countries, high-end prostitution throughout Europe, human trafficking of girls and women, and the creation of beta slaves used in the rituals each House in the Entente still practiced today to blackmail their subjects into doing what they wanted them to do.

I dropped my phone as if it had burned me and shot to my feet. My hands clenched and unclenched as if the simple act would rid the horrific feeling those pictures had stirred inside me, but it didn’t.

Luc had the ouroboros tattoo. Luc had left me only moments ago, wearing that black cape and bauta mask. Luc was the eldest son of the head of the Salvatici House. Luc liked control. He’d told me he would dominate me. At the time, I’d thought he was only talking about sex, but this…

Luc had called me gattina.

Kitten.

Sickness surged up my throat, and I sprinted to the bathroom just before it overwhelmed me. I retched into the toilet until there was nothing left in my stomach. Until every inch of my body hurt from the spasms. Until my heart shattered into a million pieces.

When it passed, I grabbed a towel from the bar with trembling fingers and wiped my mouth as I sagged back against the wall. The shakes rushed in, taking control of my muscles. Wrapping my arms around my updrawn knees, I rocked forward and back and tried to think. Tried to plan. Tried to figure out what the hell I could do.

I was surrounded by a sea of depravity and evil power I still didn’t completely understand. All I knew for certain was that I was alone. I was in the middle of nowhere. In a foreign country. With no ability to speak the language. I couldn’t trust Luc. I couldn’t trust his family. I had no one to turn to.

One thought echoed in my brain, growing louder with every passing second.

Run.

I had to get out of this nightmare. I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t wait around to be turned into Maricella. I’d seen too much tonight. If I stayed… If they found out what I knew, they’d find a way to get rid of me like—

My whole body jerked, and my eyes flew wide.

Like they’d gotten rid of Elena.

I sprang to my feet, splashed water on my face, and rinsed my mouth. Rushing into the bedroom, I tore through the wardrobe closet and found my purse. My fingers fumbled for my passport, which was—thankfully—in the exact spot I’d left it, and I checked my wallet to see how much cash remained. Since Luc had paid for almost everything since we’d arrived in Italy, I still had nearly two thousand dollars in cash and traveler’s checks. Enough to get me out of this country. But first I had to get out of this horrific villa.

I snapped my wallet closed and shoved it and my passport back inside my purse. Grabbing a fresh pair of jeans and a new T-shirt, I dressed quickly, pulled on a sweatshirt, and shoved my feet into my Skechers. I didn’t have any clue where Luc had left the keys to his car, but I wasn’t stupid enough to steal it and risk someone hearing the engine. Luc wasn’t coming back until dawn. I had time to get out of this hellhole on foot.

I tossed the strap of my bag over my head so it fell crisscross over my chest and back, then I pulled the balcony doors open and softly tugged them shut behind me. One quick glance outside told me everything was just as quiet as it had been before. Without a second thought, I grasped the trellis and began to climb.

The second my feet hit the cobblestones in the courtyard, I ran.

I ran, and I didn’t once look back.