Deceived: House of Sin by Elisabeth Naughton
His voice was agitated, growing more hysterical by the moment, but in his desperate eyes I saw truth. A truth that suddenly put everything into perspective about how and why my father had beaten and imprisoned his own son.
“I will.” Heart racing, I squeezed his arms. “Just give me a few minutes to get dressed.” I looked to Marco. “Natalie—”
“We’ll take her up to the main house. She’ll stay with Fee.”
I nodded and turned back toward the tent. My heart stuttered when I spotted Natalie standing in the doorway with the sheet wrapped around her, watching us with wide and frightened eyes.
I crossed toward her, stepped into the tent with her so the door flaps fell closed behind me, and pulled her into my arms.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
“I know.” I held her close as she trembled against me, hoping to alleviate her worry, desperate to calm my own. But I couldn’t get Dante’s words out of my head, and I was scared to death about what it all meant.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I said into her hair, telling myself if I believed it, it would be. “But I have to go help Dante right now.”
“Of course.” With her hands pressed to my chest, she drew back and looked up at me in the candlelight. “What can I do to help?”
“Let me take you up to the main house. I don’t want you staying out here alone. You’re safe on the property, but—”
“I don’t want to be here without you.”
I breathed a little easier, knowing she wasn’t going to argue about this. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I said, “I’m sorry our night just got hijacked.”
“It’s okay.” She leaned into me. “We have lots of nights ahead. And you can make it up to me in the morning.”
I lifted my hands to her face, lowered my mouth to hers, and kissed her sweet lips. “I will, angioletto. I promise I will.”
I just hoped that we found Maricella by morning. And that what we found didn’t shatter the happiness Natalie and I had finally discovered in each other.
We’d been searching for hours with no sign of Maricella’s car.
Dante swore Maricella had told him she was driving south, away from our parents’ villa when she’d called him in the middle of the night. Marco and I had both called her cell, but she hadn’t answered, so Marco had contacted a friend who’d been able to pinpoint a triangular location based on her cell phone pings. It had given us a thirty-mile radius to check south of the estate, but we’d been over nearly every road and highway in the last few hours and still had come up empty.
“Maybe her cell phone died,” I said from the passenger seat of Marco’s Mercedes, trying to stay optimistic. “Dante, try calling the flat again in Rome to see if she showed up there.”
He used my phone to dial from the backseat, then seconds later in a panicked voice said, “Still nothing. Where the fuck is she? She has to be somewhere close. What if her car broke down, or worse, if she was in some kind of accident? We have to find her. We have to find her soon...”
He was on the edge of hysteria again. I glanced toward Marco, worry threading through me about what Dante would do if we didn’t find Maricella. He’d already gone after my father once. If he tried it again, I had no doubt my father’s men would kill him on the spot.
“Breathe, fratello.” I turned in my seat and patted Dante’s shoulder as he dropped his head into his hands where he sat in the middle of the backseat. He mumbled frenzied words I couldn’t make out, something he’d been doing the whole time we’d been searching for Maricella, something I hoped was linked to the drugs still in his system and not a sign he was seriously losing it.
“We could sedate him,” Marco said quietly from the front as he drove.
“You brought something?”
“Just in case.”
I didn’t want to think about that just yet. I didn’t want there to be a reason we might need sedatives. I ran my hand down Dante’s arm, searching for something to say to keep his hope alive.
“Luc,” Marco said softly several minutes later.
Realizing Marco had slowed the vehicle, I let go of Dante and turned to look out the windshield, spotting what had caught Marco’s attention. A car—what looked to be a silver sedan twenty yards ahead—on its side in the ditch.
“Merda,” I muttered under my breath, already reaching for the door handle. “Stop here. And keep him distracted while I check it out.”
Marco pulled the car to the shoulder and shifted into Park. Dante’s head came up, and he asked what was going on, but I didn’t wait around to hear what Marco told him. I climbed out and jogged toward the wreck, illuminated by Marco’s headlights and dawn barely rising in the distance.
Voices echoed from the road, back near Marco’s car. I knew he and Dante were out of the vehicle. I could hear Dante frantically arguing for Marco to let him go. Picking my way down the embankment, I moved around the car, which was banged up on all sides, and made my way toward the driver’s side.
The windshield was busted out. The side window shattered. Kneeling down to get a good look, I glanced into the car and spotted a woman with bloodstained clothing and matted blonde hair twisted at an odd angle in the driver’s seat.
“Merda. Maricella,” I called, reaching into the car as carefully as I could so as not to startle her. Gently, I pushed the hair out of her eyes. “It’s Luc. I’m here to he—”
I froze when I realized her eyes were wide and lifeless and staring straight at me. My hand immediately dropped to her neck, and I felt everywhere for a pulse, only there was nothing. Nothing but cold skin and an emptiness that sent bile sliding straight up my throat.
“Porca puttana.” Resting my elbow on my knee, I breathed deep and swallowed back the sickness as my mind spun.
I hadn’t seen skid marks on the road. It didn’t look like someone had been following her, but I couldn’t know for sure. It was possible she’d been hysterical trying to get away from my House, that she’d lost control of the car on these windy back roads, but—
Every thought came to a screeching halt when I spotted the marking on her inner forearm where it lay against her thigh. To anyone else, it would look like a peace tattoo—a new peace tattoo judging by the red marks around the ink—but I knew it for what it was.
A marking aimed specifically at me, so I would know without a doubt that she’d been targeted.
Because Dante had dared to fall in love with a woman who wasn’t of the right bloodline, who hadn’t been approved by the Knights, and whom he’d chosen above our House.
A woman who, in my House’s eyes, was no different from Natalie.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Natalie
I couldn’t sit still.
Pushing back from the kitchen table where Felicity and I had been chatting—waiting—for the last three hours, I crossed to the wide arched window, brushed the hair back from my face, and folded my arms over the thick cable-knit sweater at my chest as I looked out at the sun rising in the east, casting an eerie orange glow over the paved drive.
“They’ll call soon,” Felicity said from the table, her hands wrapped around her third mug of coffee. “If something bad had happened, Marco would have called immediately.”
I knew that. But ever since I’d seen Dante’s wild eyes and haunted face in those trees, I hadn’t been able to shake that feeling of impending doom. And the feeling was only growing stronger with every second that passed and there was no news from Luc.
“I still don’t understand why the Knights just let him go.” I turned to Felicity. We’d already discussed the situation with Dante, but I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it. “Luc told me they were voting on what to do with him on Saturday. Today is Friday. Why let him go last night? And why would they drop him here? There had to be a reason, right?”
“I’m sure there is, but I stopped trying to figure out the Knights’ reasons long ago. They play by different rules, Natalie. Not yours or mine or even what society deem
When I frowned and turned back to the window, Felicity sighed.
“Look, the best thing we can do is just be patient. I know it sucks, but Luc and Marco will be back soon, and they’ll tell us what’s going on then.”
“I hate this,” I muttered, staring out at the empty drive. “I thought I could handle not knowing what was going on, but—”
“Are you saying you wish you hadn’t come back?”
I dropped my phone on the table and sank into the chair closest to me. “No. Not at all. I love Luc, and I don’t regret coming back to him for even a second. I’m supposed to be here with him. But all this...”
I propped my elbows on the table and scrubbed my fingers through my hair. “Dante looked nothing like he did when I saw him weeks ago at the Salvatici estate. He was a shell of his former self. Not just thin and gaunt and bruised from obvious beatings, but his eyes were bloodshot and wild, and he seemed frantic, almost crazed. I didn’t know a person could change so much in such a short amount of time. Whatever they did to him...” I swallowed hard and dropped my hands to the table. “It scares me because he’s their son. He’s one of them. And if they could do that to him... What could they do to Luc?”
Felicity leaned forward and closed her warm fingers around my much colder ones. “Listen to me. They’re not going to do anything to Luc. They need him.”
“I know, but—”
“He’s the heir, Natalie. The Houses are all about bloodlines. They need him to carry on the family bloodline.”
“They have Gio. And Dante, if they don’t kill him in the next few days.”
Her hand tightened around mine. “They want Luc, Natalie. They always have. I know you can’t understand this, but birth order matters in this fucked up world. The fact Luc is the firstborn son, that he has the exact same noble marking as his father—they see that as a sign. They think he’s destined to be some incredible ruler who will move their House into the future as the House that will dominate the Entente. And they’ll do anything to keep him so they can make that happen. That’s why they let him go for so long. That’s even why they’re willing to sanction his marriage to you even though it was never approved. All because they can’t risk losing him.”
My gaze skipped over Felicity’s face as the weight of everything she was saying fell heavily on my shoulders. ”He doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to rule any House, especially this one.”
“I know that. Which is why it has to be him.” She shook her head. “Don’t you see? Luc is destined for greatness, just not the greatness they want. And he will change this House one day. But for the better.”
She glanced toward the doorway as if searching for anyone who might be lurking, then looked back at me and lowered her voice even more. “There are hundreds—thousands—of people waiting for the day Luc assumes his position as Grand Duke of the Salvatici House. People who have lived through oppression and abuse, who have lost loved ones to this House’s sick ways. Even now, there are underground factions waiting for Luc to take control so they can make a move on the Knights and the Grande Cavaliere, a man who has been responsible for so much death and misery. But that can’t happen until Luc accepts his fate. And it will never happen if Gio or Dante inherit the title. They’re not as resilient as Luc. I know you’re scared, but the Knights want Luc, and we need him to play the game. And if you love him the way you say you do, you’ll be strong for him, no matter what happens with Dante. They’ll never do to Luc what they’re doing to Dante. But they’re not above using Dante to make a point to Luc—just as they did with Vittoria. He leans on you, Natalie. I’ve seen it. His whole world revolves around you. If things go to shit, you’re the one who will be able to keep him grounded.”
My heart beat hard and fast. I was scared to death of what that phrase meant—if things go to shit. And the fact she’d mentioned Vittoria sent a thousand different images—all that made me want to vomit—surging in my mind.
I swallowed hard and stared at my friend. “Do you really think they’ll kill Dante?”
“I don’t want to think so, but I’m just not sure anymore. If that happens, it’s going to gut Luc. Worse than what happened with Vittoria.”
A car engine sounded outside, followed by doors closing. I jerked toward the window and spotted Marco and Luc, both already at the back passenger door. “They’re back.”
I rushed toward the front door in my leggings and sweater, threw it open, and hurried down the stone path to the drive in my bare feet. Marco and Luc each had one of Dante’s arms around their shoulders and were supporting his weight as they all but dragged him into the house. His head hung limp in front of him, his dirty hair covering his eyes. He shuffled his feet a couple of times, but it was clear he was barely conscious.
“Oh my God.”
“He’s okay, angioletto,” Luc said. “Just sedated. Get the door?”
I hurried back to the door and pushed it open, holding it wide so they could get Dante through. Felicity met us in the entryway. “Take him to the guest room at the end of the hall on the second floor. I’ll get towels and a bucket just in case.”
She hurried toward the kitchen while the men hauled Dante up the stairs. Still standing in the open doorway, I glanced toward the car, but didn’t see any sign of Maricella, something I wasn’t sure how to read.
I closed the door and skipped steps on the stairs to get to the second level. The guest room they’d taken Dante to was made up of a queen-sized sleigh bed, a small sitting area, a bathroom, but no balcony.
Dante was sprawled across the bed on his back. Luc tugged off his shoes, and he and Marco maneuvered Dante until he was vertical on the bed and under at least the top comforter. Felicity rushed past me into the room with several towels, which Luc took from her, and a bucket, which she set on the floor closest to Dante. “What did you give him?”
“Haloperidol,” Marco answered her.
“How much?”
“Ten milligrams. He was pretty bad, so if he wakes in an hour or so, we may need to give him more.”
Felicity and Marco exchanged glances, then she said, “Come with me so we can get more supplies. You can update me on the way.”
They disappeared out the door, and when they were gone, I looked toward Luc, standing at the end of the bed, holding the towels, staring at Dante as if no one else was in the room.
He was still wearing the expensive slacks he’d worn last night for our wedding and the white dress shirt I’d stripped from his strong shoulders in that tent. But now the slacks were covered in mud and dirt, and his shirt, rolled up to his elbows and open at his chest, was stained with what I was afraid might be blood.
I swallowed hard and stepped up next to him, carefully touching his forearm. “Hey. Are you oka—”
He dropped the towels, turned into me in one swift motion, and wrapped his arms tight around my back. Then he lowered his face into my hair in a way that made my heart race with fear.
I wasn’t sure what had happened. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with Dante. I didn’t ask. I just slipped my arms around his shoulders and sifted my fingers into his hair, gently stroking the soft locks as he trembled against me, being that strength Felicity said he might need.
His arms tightened around me, and against my neck where his face was pressed, I felt something warm and wet. Something I realized was tears.
I’d never seen Luc cry, and that scared me even more. He hadn’t cried when he’d confessed about his past and Vittoria. He hadn’t cried when I’d left his bed on his island. He hadn’t cried when I’d told him I couldn’t stay with him any longer and he’d finally let me go. Yes, his eyes had been damp when I’d asked him to marry me on that dock, but those had been happy emotions. This, though...
This was different. This was something that chilled me to my bones because it had shaken my strong, commanding, take-charge man right to his core. And I had no idea what that me
“I’m here,” I whispered, unsure of what to say, only wanting him to know he wasn’t alone. “I’m right here. We’re safe. We’re together.” I turned my face, pressing my lips against his cheek, his temple, whatever I could reach. “Everything’s going to be okay now.”
“No.” His voice was muffled as he shook his head against me, the sound sending my pulse even higher. “It won’t be. This is all my fault.”
“No, it isn’t.” I wouldn’t let him blame himself for Dante’s mistakes. “This isn’t about you. It’s—”
“It is.” He pushed back and looked down at me, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. And filled with so much agony, I ached to console him. “They did this because of me. They killed her to make a point to me.”
I didn’t understand what he was saying. And I was suddenly terrified of what he was implying. “Killed who, Luc? What point?”
Pain swept over his weary features, and he closed his eyes, then slowly stepped back and dropped onto the couch in the small sitting area. “Maricella.” He rested his elbows on his dirty slacks and dropped his forehead into his hands. “They killed her, and they made it look like a car accident. But I know it wasn’t. The did it as a warning to me.”
I knelt on the ground in front of him and placed my suddenly shaking hands on his legs, desperate to touch him, to do anything to take that haunted sound from his voice. “Why? I don’t understand. What does Maricella have to do with you? I’m trying to understand, Luc, but—”
He met my gaze. “She was pregnant, Natalie. When Dante found out, he asked for permission to marry her. My father said no. That’s why Dante left. He moved Maricella to a flat in Rome. My father discovered where they were staying, and he had his goons grab Maricella from the flat when Dante was out looking for work.”