Page 3 of Beneath the Shadows
I can only imagine the brutal things he has planned for her. He’ll start with something subtle, like isolating her to break her spirit. When that doesn’t work, it’ll turn physical. He’ll pull out his whip or his knife, anything to scar her body, all while masking his abuse as discipline. Valentino will savor every scream and tear as he shatters her will, leaving her too broken to fight back.
The thought of Alessia being forced to endure his twisted methods sickens me. But I can’t let my emotions betray me. “Yes, you could go that route,” I say thoughtfully, lowering myself onto the outdoor sofa. “Or you might want to try something different.” I dangle the thought in front of him, hoping it’s enough to shift his focus and that I can spare Alessia some pain.
Valentino stops pacing and turns to face me. “Incentives?” he repeats, clearly confused.
I gesture to the chair across from me. “Come sit,” I say calmly. Once he's settled, I continue, “To make someone like Alessia comply, it’s not just about lessons and discipline. You need to balance it with kindness and affection.”
“Why would I do that?” he asks, still puzzled.
“To confuse her,” I reply, my voice steady. “You need to make her question her defiance by showing her what a good life she’ll haveifshe does things your way. Make it seem like it’s her choice to be compliant.”
A slow grin spreads across his face. “All I have to do is promise her the moon and the stars.”
“You’ve got it,” I agree, continuing to bolster his ego. “She’ll be the perfectdonna, and she’ll reinforce your image as our future leader.”
“And it’ll prove to my father that I’m ready to take my rightful place,” he says, his eyes widening in excitement.
“Exactly,” I say, sitting back and crossing one leg over another, hoping I did enough to spare Alessia some pain.
Vigo stands abruptly. “I hope you don’t mind if I rush out. I’ve got some things I need to take care of,” he says, already moving toward the door. “I know I can always count on you to be there for me.”
I rise to my feet, offering him a slight nod. “I’ll always have your back.” The words rolling off my tongue effortlessly.
As he hurries away, I call after him. “Enjoy the rest of your day, cousin.”
Valentino’s putty in my hands. He’s so easy to manipulate. A smile, a subtle suggestion, and he’s convinced it’s his idea—that he’s the one calling the shots. He trusts me completely, oblivious to the fact that it’s his biggest mistake.
Alessia
My head’sstill spinning from the shock of the engagement and from Val’s even crazier announcement that the wedding is only two weeks away. It’s no secret I waspromessato Valentino, but I was supposed to have a few more years. The agreement was clear—the wedding wouldn’t take place before my twenty-fifth birthday, which is three years away.
Yesterday, after leaving the Comiso’s house, I went straight to my father, demanding to know why the plan had changed. I begged him to make Valentino wait. I shouldn’t have done it. I know better than to provoke his temper. My father not only refused, he grabbed my arm so tightly it left bruises. Then he hit me.
The sting of the slap, the ache of the bruises, still lingers. It’s a reminder of how little control I have over my own life. There’s no escaping it. My time’s up. In two weeks, I’ll be married to a man I despise.
I’m trying to put it aside for right now. I’m due at the wedding planner’s office for a little over an hour, which should give me enough time to swing by Starlight Studios to drop off a new batch of photographs. They’re selling faster than I can take them.
“I think these are your best yet,” Ophelia says, pointing to a picture of the sunset from the Race St. Pier, her eyes lighting up with admiration.
“Thank you,” I reply with a modest smile. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
“It’s more than that, Allie,” she insists as she continues looking through the digital images. “Each one tells a story, captures a moment in time.”
“That’s what I love about photography,” I say, my voice softening. “I’m able to freeze moments in time, capturing their beauty forever.”
As I reach for another photograph, I catch Ophelia’s gaze shifting to my hand. Instinctively, I curl my fingers, trying to hide the glint of my ring.
“Did you get engaged?” she asks, a hint of surprise in her voice.
A warm flush spreads across my cheeks. “I did.”
“Oh, let me see the ring,” she says, her excitement genuine.
I hesitate briefly before slowly uncurling my fingers to reveal the ring.
“It’s beautiful,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “He has great taste."
“Thank you,” I murmur, touched by her sincerity.