The pressure released from her throat, and she could breathe again. She’d never been so relieved to hear Leo’s voice. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, watching his brother, his face unperturbed by a single recognizable expression.
Angelo grabbed her by the back of the neck and threw her on the ground in front of Leo. “That is where a slave belongs-at her Master’s feet. You stupid whore.”
Faith flinched and crawled closer to Leo. She couldn’t make any sudden moves with Angelo in this state. She was unsure Leo would come to her aid. He hadn’t ripped his brother off her, or yelled at him, or made any big display of gallantry. Surely he didn’t care one way or the other what happened to her. Why would he? Angelo was right in a way, she was his brother’s burden, and rescuing her from every little threat added to the annoyance. Drawing more attention to herself now by standing and riling Angelo further was a recipe for death.
“Why aren’t you using her?”
“Is she mine?” Leo asked, rhetorically.
“Of course,” Angelo conceded.
“Then she’s not your concern. What I do or don’t do with her or when isn’t your business. Did you think I’d start training her before the new year? With the family coming in?”
“I hadn’t thought of it,” he said. “I was pissed she wasn’t giving you what she was meant to give you. She’s acting all entitled, like she’s special.”
“And whose fault is that? You’re the one who told our mother we were engaged. It’s because of you that we’re acting out this drama.”
Angelo sighed. “You know how Ma gets when she’s around Davide. I wanted her focus somewhere else for a change. She’s gotta give her harping a rest.”
“Then all this… with Faith… is your fault. Don’t interfere. I’ll train her when I’m good and damn ready.”
As their words flowed over her, Faith wondered if he’d been lying to her before or if he was lying to his brother now. Did he intend to violate and beat her and treat her like a slave once everyone was gone and he had more uninterrupted time?
Her blood ran cold at the idea that she’d only have a few days of relative safety before he started in on her. Maybe she should have chosen the dungeon to get used to it. Why pretend something so pretty on the surface: family and holidays and love and a wedding, when it masked cruelty and pain that would surface the moment they were alone in the house again with just the servants?
“Fine,” Angelo growled. “But I didn’t give her to you to be queen of the manor.”
“Leave us,” Leo snapped. For the first time, violence edged his voice.
When Angelo stormed off, Leo’s arms came around her. She couldn’t stop shaking as he pulled her up to stand. His hand touched her face where his brother had hit her, and she winced. Then he forced her clenched fist to unfold to find the dripping blood. Her palm throbbed from the pressure she’d kept on it. She’d barely noticed the sensation while Angelo had been so near. Her first thought had been survival.
Leo pressed his hands gently against her throat where Angelo had tried to choke her. “Does that hurt?” “Yes,” she croaked.
“Can you breathe all right?”
“Yes.”
“Swallow for me.”
She forced her throat to work. Eating would be difficult. “Good. Let’s get you cleaned up and taken care of.”
***
Leo was about to explode. How dare Angelo touch what was his? He’d been so close to beating the shit out of his brother, but it would cause more problems for Faith in the long run. Better to diffuse the situation. There were too many hot tempers and too much violence in his family.
If Angelo thought Leo would take the side of a woman-especially a woman he’d just met-over his own flesh and blood, things could get ugly and stay that way for a long time. All he wanted was peace between his family members.
Faith clung to him as he led her through the house, avoiding the areas people had congregated. He took her back to her room and sat her on the bed. She was quieter than usual, her gaze downcast as tears slid down her cheeks.
He didn’t know if it was the humiliation and fear or the physical pain that made her cry, but her broken sobs simultaneously awakened his protective urges and his urge to dominate her.
It took all his self control not to force her to her knees and empty himself inside her mouth. But he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he abused her like that when he was the only sense of safety she had. Still, the fantasy spiraled through his mind.
Leo left her alone on the bed and went to the bathroom for the first aid kit, then he searched through the drawers and closets for her makeup bag. He ran a washcloth under cool water, then brought everything back and sat next to her. She tensed. So she was back to being afraid of him-not just his brother.
“Turn your face toward the light so I can see where he hit you.”
It might not bruise, but it was obvious she’d been hit. He wished he didn’t know so much about covering the marks of abuse, but he’d helped his sister cover marks more times than he could count.
In his family’s line of work where so much violence was commonplace, it was hard for some to separate the brutality they delivered to others from their own family-those they were supposed to love, protect, and care for.
Leo had left far worse marks than this on women, but never their face, and never out of anger. He was controlled. Was controlled violence any better? It was something he didn’t like to think about. If it was consensual, wasn’t it less evil? The Church didn’t make such distinctions, and Faith certainly hadn’t asked for Angelo’s hand to come sailing across her cheek.
He wondered if the violence he’d been raised in was the root of his sadism. The adults had tried to keep him protected when he was young, but he’d seen evidence of things, things that something in his psyche must have taken apart and put back together like a sordid Rubik’s cube, reshaping and refashioning it until all the pieces were in order again.
Leo wiped her tears, but they kept coming in a steady stream. “I need you to stop crying.”
“I-I’m sorry. I’m trying.”
He brushed the hair out of her face with his fingers. “I know you are. But I need you to try harder.” He kept his voice soft so he wouldn’t spook her. “I won’t leave you alone with any of them again. Especially not after what happened in the kitchen.”
While she tried to gain control of herself, Leo tended to her hand. The piece of glass that had cut her had been large enough not to leave any pieces embedded. It was a clean cut and not too deep. He cleaned her hand with an antiseptic and then dried it with sterile gauze. The bleeding had slowed to a trickle, so he pressed the gauze against her hand for a few more minutes.
“I’m going to use a liquid bandage instead of this. It won’t be as noticeable and won’t draw attention.”
Faith nodded and watched as he brushed the liquid bandage over the cut. The moment he’d finished, she jerked her hand away and hissed.
Leo, grabbed her wrist and blew on the cut. “Shhh. It stings at first. It’ll be fine in a second. You can handle it.”
After a minute or so, she settled down. He went to the intercom box beside her bed and pressed the button. Demetri answered.
“Miss Jacobson?”
“It’s me, Demetri. Let us know when dinner is ready. We’ll be here.” “Of course, sir.”
What he loved the most about Demetri was that he didn’t ask questions. Of all the household staff, he was the one person who hadn’t questioned what Leo would do with Faith once he got her there. He either didn’t care, or recognized more than most that it wasn’t his place to ask anything at all. His job was to see to it that the house ran smoothly and manage those who cooked and cleaned for the master of the house.
Leo locked the bedroom door. It would be better if no one disturbed them. And while he thought most of the adults would avoid a closed door, with so many kids in the house, there was no telling where they would bust in playing hide-and-seek or being nosy and exploring.
“Lie back on the bed.”
Faith’s eyes widened and her lip started to tremble. “P-please, you said you wouldn’t…”
His brows drew together in confusion. Then he realized… the locked door. “I’m not going to touch you in any inappropriate way. I don’t want kids coming in here and asking what’s going on and taking the story back to the adults.”
She looked wary, but seeing she didn’t have any options, and probably not wanting to anger him, she scooted her body up the bed and lay against the pillows.
Leo went to the bathroom to run cool water on the washcloth again. He draped it over her face when he returned. “Relax.” He sat on the bed beside her and held her hand, stroking her skin with his thumb.
“I’ll keep you safe. I won’t let anyone here hurt you. I won’t leave you alone again.” He stopped short of apologizing. An apology was weakness, and it was something he’d never been good at. At least not in the standard way. His apologies came through action. In time, she would understand that.