Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes.

WARNING: There is violence in this chapter. It is contained in the italicized section. If you do not want to read it, skip the italicized sections.

…

From Chapter 9:

I swung my elbow around to connect with Muscles' chest and my other hand clawed out, scratching his cheek. In a strained voice, he bit out, "Close your mouth. Help me calm her down"

"No!" I yelled as I felt Tank close his hands around my ankles while Muscles laid me on the bed to hold my shoulders steady against the mattress. I didn't know exactly where the thought came from or why it came, but all I could think was, 'No! No more restraints!' I shouted, "Let go of me!"

...

Chapter 10

The sound of my pulse hammered in my ears and drowned out their responses. My airway tightened and I felt my chest explode with pain. "…shock" was the only word I made out above the buzz in my ears.

Through the haze, I heard Muscles say, "Stephanie!" in a firm voice with an underlying anguish I couldn't analyze just now. I couldn't respond, though I wanted to, even if it was just to say he had the wrong girl. I was swept away by darkness and knew I needed air, but couldn't draw a breath to pull myself out. The burning in my chest intensified until I wanted to scream from it, and would have if possible. I lost my battle with oblivion, welcoming the respite from the pain.

…

It was early June and the weather was perfect: balmy, with a cool breeze that wafted in through the open windows in the kitchen. I'd been baking biscotti all morning for Adriano and had just cleaned up the kitchen when Adriano called to warn me he was five minutes away, which meant I had to rush to get his espresso ready in time.

A few minutes later, the machine whooshed and snorted under my expert hands. The deep, dark roasted aroma of espresso shot up into the air with the steam the machine gave off, nearly gagging me. Coffee had once been an enjoyment for me, almost a necessity to get myself going in the morning. Now I couldn't stand the sight or smell of the stuff. A car door slammed from out in the circular drive and I jumped, unprepared for the noise. Adriano was early, but whether or not he'd planned it that way, I couldn't be sure.

The machine finished just as I heard the front door, and I quickly poured the steaming beverage into the little espresso cup before setting it on the saucer. I hurried to the living room, careful not to spill his drink.

Adriano stood in the middle of the room beside the couch with a frown on his tanned, angular face when I reached the large, airy room. "I thought I told you to have it ready." He was dressed in navy lycra jogging shorts and a matching shirt, running shoes, and sunglasses perched atop his head nestled into his perfectly styled dark hair.

I presented him with a calm smile and handed over the cup. "I apologize, Adriano. I started immediately after your call, but it only just finished brewing."

After taking a sip, an ugly expression crossed his features, and he said, "What did you put in here, Camila? Mud? When I ask you to make espresso, I expect it to be the same each. and. every. time. Perfect." He flung the cup at me and hit me square in the chest. It took all of my willpower and a few Hail Mary's so I wouldn't flinch, especially when the scalding liquid passed straight through my cream silk blouse and scorched the pale skin underneath

I didn't dare reach out to catch the cup as it crashed to the floor for fear that he'd interpret it as a defensive action, something he would not tolerate at all. Without a word, I lifted the wet material from my skin and said in my most docile tone, "Please excuse me while I clean up." I ignored the painful burns and the fact that my skin was most likely blistered already, choosing instead to go to the kitchen for the broom and dustpan. I wanted to cry, but didn't dare.

"Forget the cup. Be back in five minutes ready to run." His command didn't leave me any time to treat my scalded skin. I nodded and rushed to my room to change, ripping the shirt off my body in lieu of using the tiny pearl buttons. It was ruined anyway. Grabbing my clothes and hat, I went to the bathroom and grabbed a hand towel from the cupboard to wipe away the remains of the coffee, hissing when the terry cloth touched my tender skin. Damn, this was going to be worse than the spaghetti incident from last week and my leg still hadn't fully healed.

While I dressed and slipped on my shoes, I thought about Seppe and his promise to protect me. He'd done that very well, until he'd handed me over to the monster in the living room. Betrayal and despair swirled through my mind as I tried to comprehend how he hadn't known about Adriano's true nature. Or had he merely needed to get me settled so he could move on with his life and his business?

Now, I wondered what had made me believe life with Adriano could match the comfort Seppe had provided. I was safe and protected there, not … this. I wished over and over again that I had known what Adriano would become because I never would have agreed to marry him. Seppe would have been concerned, at first, because of his need to see me to live a 'normal' life, but he would have accepted my refusal. Adriano was fond of reminding me over and over that I knew what he was like and chose to be with him. The truth was that I'd overheard Seppe threaten one of his cousins that he'd be disowned if he divorced his wife. That it was a sin and he wouldn't tolerate it. So, I was stuck, unless I wanted to leave everything, and everyone, behind.

A glance at the clock told me I only had one minute, so I dropped the towel and tucked my hair behind my ears before pulling on my cap. I would have preferred a ponytail, but my hair had only grown out to four and a half inches. The doctor had told me to be patient with my hair growth since it only grows about a half inch per month, but it was hard to wait sometimes. I hated my hair short.

With a small sigh for what I couldn't change or rush, I grabbed my sunglasses and jogged out to the living room. Adriano waited with his arms crossed and looked pointedly at his watch. "You were very close."

I nodded, but didn't say anything. He didn't expect a response and didn't want one. Adriano always had the last word.

We jogged out of the house and ran at a slow pace up the road for five minutes, stopped to stretch, then took off for our twenty minute run. I'd only recently been cleared by my doctor to resume all physical activity, but now I was two months behind on my routine. Still, I was able to match my stride to his for the entire duration, never falling behind. When we returned to the house, we stretched again and then Adriano said, "Time to shower."

He took my hand and led me to the bathroom where he proceeded to strip off my sweaty clothing. He shoved me into the shower and turned on the cold spray while he watched me wash my hair and condition it. He said it was because a cold water rinse was good for my hair, but I knew it served as another form of punishment he could dish out. At times, I almost forgot that I hadn't done anything to deserve punishment from him, but when he left, I made a practice of reminding myself. I had to stay strong. I'd fought for my strength and wouldn't give it up easily now.

When my personal time was up, he added the hot and then stepped into the shower with me where I washed him from head to foot. He washed his hair and then looked at me expectantly, so I leaned up to kiss him just the way he liked.

He took his shower gel and washed my body, hands lingering on my skin. I remained still, allowing him access to explore and thought about a time not too long ago when I'd welcomed his touch. No longer.

With a hand on my throat, he turned off the water and dragged me out of the shower. I grabbed a towel and dried him off. He groaned low in his throat, "I think I'll have you today, Camila."

"Yes, Adriano." I quickly dried myself off with his towel. I wasn't allowed to have my own anymore. He said sharing was economical. I didn't argue with his logic, or more appropriately, he didn't tolerate me questioning him. Ever.

After I rubbed the excess water out of my hair, he nodded and I walked to the bedroom to stand by the bed. He sauntered in a few seconds later and stood in front of me. "Lie down."

I did and accepted his every invasion with responses he'd demanded from me at the very start of our relationship. Suddenly, Adriano surprised me by grabbing my hair and tilting my head back at a painful angle. "I'm not him am I, Camila?" His voice was cold and full of hatred and I froze. Pure fear kept me silent. I kept my expression neutral, but just barely.

He grasped my jaw with his other hand and squeezed hard enough to make my eyes water. I bit my lip to keep from crying out in pain. "I never should have married a slut like you."

Standing, he pulled me off the bed and hooked an arm around my throat, cutting off my airway. I thought maybe, just maybe, he'd really kill me as he'd promised so many times in the past two weeks. With a roar, he shoved me forward across the room, arm still around my throat, toward the full-length mirror by the wardrobe. Adriano had now gone beyond my scope of reference for him. This new territory produced a level of terror I'd never felt up to this point.

"You won't see him again. You're mine." We stood in front of the mirror. I struggled to keep my composure as my lungs screamed for air and he watched me, waiting for something. The motion came without warning and I was smashed, face forward, into the mirror, which splintered in its entirety. It didn't fall apart, but I could see that just about any disturbance would shake its tremulous foundation. I shook violently as my basal emotions overtook me, only his unrelenting body pressed against mine held me upright.

Keeping the front of my body in contact with the glass, he spread my legs and said, "Never again, Camila."

…

A warm hand shaking my shoulder jolted me awake. Despite my intentions to remain calm, I howled, "Noooo!" The memory of Adriano's latest punishment pushed me one step closer to insanity and I completely disregarded his rules and my own resolve. "Leave me alone." It was a weak plea, but I hoped he'd get the message that I was done playing by his rules.

He was sitting next to me on the bed, with my body sloping gently toward where the mattress depressed under his weight. When I expected a harsh touch, he surprised me by tucking a lock of hair behind my ear and the affectionate gesture made me nauseous. The suspicion of a new mind game put my senses on high alert. My stomach convulsed from the suppression of fear and panic and I leaned over the side of the bed and retched on the floor. "Oh God. Please, let me go or kill me," I moaned. Death couldn't be worse than the hell I lived. I rested my head against the edge of the bed in case I got sick again.

The hand moved from my shoulder to the middle of my back in a light touch, massaging in what would have been soothing circles if only he'd treated me differently. I thought I should sit up and get the pressure off the glass embedded in my skin, but feared that Adriano would begin his new lesson for me if he thought I was up to it. Why didn't he speak? He always had a lecture for me. My outburst should have drawn a reaction from him.

"The doc had better get here soon, she's worse this time," said a male voice from across the room. Who the hell had Adriano brought with him this morning?

I opened my eyes, but saw only blinding light and severely distorted images. It seemed strangely familiar, but I couldn't pinpoint why. The face in front of me was out of focus I couldn't even make out the features: eyes, lips, nose. The slightly darker skin tone told me the man beside me was not Adriano. I attempted to clear my vision by blinking rapidly, but my efforts only produced the ability to see vague outlines.

"Babe?" he asked.

Not expecting a stranger, I jerked my body away from him, shrugging his hand away from me. My mind raced to place the voice, but I couldn't focus on it over the inner self-preservation, shouting 'Get away from me!'

"Shh, it's okay. I'm getting up." His voice was calm and low, so I stopped and waited, clutching the sheet in my hands. I watched his weaving outline as his body rose from the bed at a snail's pace, facing me. He raised his hands up at shoulder level and backed away a couple of steps.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"A friend," he replied.

I didn't believe him for a second and narrowed my eyes in his direction. "What do you want? Why are you here?" My tone was quiet, but demanding.

No answer. I glanced toward where the other voice had come from and felt a jolt of dread lance through my gut when I counted not one, but two other masculine bodies in the room, one incredibly large and the other lanky, but exuding power nonetheless. The one who'd spoken, the larger one, stood on the other side of the bed, the other beside the wall across the room from the bed.

It took a split second for me to decide to get my ass off the bed since it made me nervous being there under the threat of three possibly hostile men. Keeping my skewed vision locked on the man who still had his hands raised, I crawled to the foot of the bed and stood, taking several steps away from it. I flicked my gaze from man to man, closing my sweaty hands into tight fists.

To my immediate left, the lanky man took a small step toward me. I jumped back away from him and smacked into the wall, realizing with a sense of helplessness that I'd just trapped myself in the corner. Checkmate, their move.

"Do not approach her," the man with the raised hands commanded. Apparently he was in charge. I turned toward him and suddenly remembered hearing these voices before.

"Muscles," I murmured. Had I been dreaming about Seppe before? I wasn't sure why I was here and didn't have a plan of action, but knew I'd fight like hell if they were Adriano's goons and he'd sicced them on me.

I cast my gaze toward the largest man, studying his unfocused image. He was still in the spot near the other side of the bed from Muscles. I remembered his name. Tank.

"Stephanie," Muscles said, taking a small step forward. I cringed into the wall and he stopped moving, keeping his hands up where I could see them. "It's Ranger. You know us, you trust us. We only want to help you."

I swallowed. Ranger. Did I know him? Was he one of Adriano's associates? No, there was no one named Ranger with Adriano, but I knew I'd heard it before. Who was he and why couldn't I remember? If I couldn't remember him as a friend, logic dictated that he was lying.

I decided to play the only cards I had. "Hah! Where I come from, trust is a rare commodity with a price tag that's too high for me to pay. Let's cut to the chase. I want to speak with Adriano." Anger radiated through my entire body. The rotten bastard had passed me off to his friends, I was sure of it. I knew he'd been angry with me, but this was going too far. Just the thought of all he'd done to me made the blood pound in my skull, aggravating my headache.

"Who is Adriano?"

"Don't act like you don't know him! I know what he's doing. What exactly did he tell you to do to me?" I received no answer. "Tell him his obedient little woman doesn't exist anymore. No, in fact, I'll tell him myself. Call him here. Now!" Rising anger made me scream hard enough to hurt my throat. Damn, I realized I looked like a crazy woman and maybe that's what I'd become. "I could rip his puny dick off and shove it down his throat!" I growled.

"My God, what happened to her?" the man to my left asked.

His statement made me question, for the first time, whether or not they did know Adriano. They sounded genuinely concerned and that wasn't something I was used to from anyone in Adriano's world. I narrowed my eyes at 'Ranger' and asked, "If you're not with Adriano, what do you want from me? Is this Seppe's doing?" I crossed my arms over my chest before I remembered the glass. Carefully, I patted my hands down my front, and noticed the clothes for the first time. There was absolutely no glass on me, nor any cuts that I could tell. Something wasn't right. Had I dreamed about Adriano, as well?

While I'd been preoccupied with my thoughts, Ranger had gotten close enough to reach out and touch my arm. I reacted instinctively and grabbed his pinky finger, bending it backward toward the wrist. Then I twisted his arm up behind his back, shoving the hand up as high as I could toward his head between the shoulder blades. He gave a satisfying groan of pain and sunk to his knees. I hooked my arm around his neck and tightened my elbow over his Adam's apple, increasing the pressure on his little finger. "Everyone stay back!"