V of the Vengeance: A Revenge Dark

Romance (The Satriano Brothers Book

3) Josie Max
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 Contents

V of the Vengeance
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8

Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20
Chapter 21

Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Savage Devil
Violet

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 V of the Vengeance

he monster paid for me and then used me whenever he pleased.

T He didn't realize I was planning my escape.
Once I got out, that's when I would seek my revenge.
My sister depended on me to take care of her since our mother died. She was too young to know
what I did to get us food and our tattered blankets to keep us warm at night during Chicago’s bitter
winters.
When she tried to help, it only made things worse. We were in danger, and I did what I had to do to
get us out of it.
I sold myself to the highest bidder. Little did I know he wasn’t just using my body, he was seeking
revenge, and I was the pawn in his sick plan.
I could run, but every time he touched me, called out my name, my body told me to stay. That’s what
I did.
 Chapter 1

milia
E The warm, sticky air was like an overstuffed blanket, suffocating me as I woke up. The thin
mattress beneath me squeaked in protest as I stirred awake.
I looked over at my sister, Kassi, who was still asleep, her chest rising and falling softly beneath
the tattered blanket we had been forced to share. Despite my tiredness, I had trouble getting back to
sleep, knowing I was in a place where I didn’t belong.
I ran a hand through my tangled red hair and sighed, surveying our cramped basement space.
Concrete walls loomed around us, the pipes running along the low ceiling, dripping with
condensation. Our few belongings were strewn haphazardly in the corners, covered in a layer of
grime. The single bulb hanging above us cast a sickly yellow glow over it all.
This was no place to call home, but after our mother’s death six months ago, we had nowhere else
to go. I was determined to keep us off the streets, no matter the cost—even if it meant living in the
dank basement of an office building in the city like rats.
Kassi stirred beside me, her wide golden eyes blazing open. I struggled to plaster a smile on my
face, but the tightness in my chest remained. She may be eighteen, but she was still so innocent and
unaware of how precarious our situation truly was. I desperately wanted to shelter her from the cold
realities of the world for as long as I could.
“Morning.” I grinned softly, brushing a stray lock of her strawberry blond hair from her face. My
baby sister, the one person I had left in this world, the one person I would sacrifice everything for.
She was all that mattered now.
“Morning,” she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep. She scooted closer to me, wrapping her
arms around my waist and resting her head on my shoulder.
 I held her close, breathing in her familiar scent. We had to make it through this; failure was not an
option. With every ounce of our strength, we held each other as if our lives depended on it—because
they did.
I kissed the top of Kassi’s head and eased out of her embrace, the cold hitting my skin. “I have to go
find work today. Will you be okay on your own for a few hours?”
She nodded, though I saw the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. I hated leaving her alone in this
place, but we needed money for food and supplies. And the jobs I could get paid under the table were
scarce, even in a big city like Chicago. I had to take what I could get when I could get it.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I said, forcing a reassuring smile. “Hide behind the chairs if anyone
comes down here. Okay?”
“Okay.” She tried to smile back, but didn’t quite succeed. I could tell she was worried—for me and
for our situation. If only I could protect her from the harsh realities of this world forever.
With a sigh, I got up and rummaged through the duffel bag that held our few belongings until I found
something suitable to wear. I settled on a faded blue top and a pair of black leggings, hoping I at least
appeared presentable.
After changing, I gave Kassi a quick hug, unlocked the door, and ventured out into the dimly lit
basement. My footsteps echoed off the concrete walls as I made my way toward the metal door
leading out to the alley of the towering office building we called our home.
The humidity enveloped me when I exited the building, making my skin feel sticky. I gazed at the
slate-colored sky above, certain it would rain soon.
But I couldn’t let that stop me. I had a job to find, no matter the weather. No matter how much I
wished I could stay with Kassi, safe in our little hideaway. A cold, dusty basement of a twenty-floor
office building in downtown Chicago.
With a fortifying breath, I set off down the alley and into the bustle of the city. The ache inside only
grew with each step that took me farther from my sister, but I steeled myself against it. I would do
whatever it took to ensure her survival.
I returned a few hours later, damp from the inevitable rain, but with a little money in my pocket.
Enough for a meager meal, at least.
As I descended the steps into the basement, I heard Kassi’s soft voice singing to herself. The sound
eased the tension in my chest.
When I entered, she glanced up from where she sat on the floor, her golden eyes lighting up. “You’re
back!” She scrambled to her feet and threw her arms around me.
 I hugged her close, breathing in her familiar scent. “I told you I would be.”
She pulled back, worry creasing her brow. “But it’s getting dark, and the rain...” Her gaze flicked
over me, taking in my disheveled appearance. “You’re all wet.”
“I’m fine.” I ruffled her hair, forcing a smile. “Come on, help me start the electric griddle. I got us
something to eat.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened, and she followed me over to the old, scratched up grill we had found
a few months ago in a dumpster. “What did you bring?”
As we got it started, I pulled a few pieces of bread, cheese, and sausage from my pockets. “Not
much, but it’s something.”
Kassi stared at the food in disbelief. “How did you get this?”
I avoided her gaze, busying myself with putting the heavy cast iron pan on the grill. “Don’t worry
about it. Let’s just eat.”
She touched my arm, her expression troubled. “Emilia, what did you do?”
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.” I kept my tone firm, hoping to end this line of
questioning. I didn’t want her to know the lengths I’d gone to in order to provide for her. She didn’t
need to know about the men who only used my mouth and let me keep my virginity for a few bucks.
That’s the line I wouldn’t cross. The lawyer told us the city would pay a lot for my mother’s
accident; we just needed to hold out a little longer.
I did what I had to, if only for a while longer.
She bit her lip but didn’t argue further. We ate in silence, the only sounds of the rain hitting the
pavement far above our heads and rats skittering in the shadows.
My damp clothes clung to me, but for now, I was content. Kassi’s obvious joy at having a full belly
again made my discomfort worthwhile.
Maybe soon I’d get used to just one small meal a day. Maybe.
As we settled in for the night, huddling together on our makeshift bed, I strained to listen for any
signs of intruders. The memory of earlier noises and voices still echoed in my mind—a reminder of
the constant threats that lingered at the edges of our fragile existence.
Kassi nestled against me, her breath warm on my neck. “Don’t worry so much, Emilia.”
We could live like this for years, down here in a basement no one entered. We’d only been here a
few months and had yet to encounter anyone. It was smart of my sister to mention that we probably
wouldn’t be found in an office building.
Once we figured out how to get to the basement, I realized she was right.
 The layer of dust on everything from office chairs to boxes filled with papers made me realize this
was perfect for our new home.
I stroked her hair, taking comfort in her presence. “I’ll always worry. It’s my job to keep you safe.”
She tilted her head, peering at me through the darkness. “But who keeps you safe?”
I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Don’t you worry about me.”
Before she could argue further, a loud bang reverberated through the basement. I tensed, clutching
Kassi closer as the sounds of voices and approaching footsteps grew louder.
Kassi’s eyes widened in alarm. “Someone’s coming!”
“Quick, hide!” I scrambled to gather our few belongings and shoved them behind a few boxes.
Kassi darted behind a pile of old swivel chairs while I melted into a dark corner, hoping I wouldn’t
be seen.
The door to our makeshift room burst open. My head whirled around, heart racing, to find a large
man silhouetted in the doorway. His gaze swept the room, settling on the chairs where Kassi was
hiding.
He moved toward them, and my mind raced at ways to distract him. I was about to jump out when I
heard a voice. A woman.
“Found them,” she called out.
The man turned his head. “There’s some over here, but they look broken.”
I breathed a shaky sigh of relief as the man’s heavy footsteps faded down the hall. Kassi peeked out
from behind the chairs, her eyes wide.
We heard a door slam, and I held my breath for a moment. No more sounds.
“Is he gone?”
I nodded, collapsing onto the edge of the mattress and letting out the breath. The encounter left me
rattled, a grim reminder of how precarious our situation was. We were surviving day to day, never
knowing what new danger might emerge from the shadows.
Kassi came to sit beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder. “We can’t stay like this, Em.”
“I know.” I wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close. “But don’t worry, I won’t let anyone
hurt you.”
“It wasn’t always like this.” Her voice was soft, tinged with sadness. “Do you remember when
Mom was still alive? We had an actual home, and food, and clothes. Now look at us.”
The memory surfaced of our cozy apartment filled with laughter, the scent of our mother’s cooking
wafting through the rooms. We’d been happy then, without a care in the world. The apartment was
small, and Kassi and I had to share a tiny room—which I once asked if it was even a bedroom. My
mother told me, “Don’t be silly, Em. Of course, it’s a bedroom.”
But once she died and I couldn’t afford the rent, I saw it listed as a one-bedroom apartment. We had
slept in a big closet all along.
But that didn’t matter to me. I’d have slept in a box if it meant getting her back.
All that joy and security had shattered into a million pieces the day we lost her.
“I’m going to find that lawyer tomorrow,” I said.
That lawyer promised so much, but we hadn’t heard from him in two months.
“I don’t think we’re getting any money,” Kassi said with a sigh.
My shoulders fell. She was probably right. I wondered if the guy was even a lawyer.
I swallowed against the ache in my throat, blinking back tears. “Hush. The city is at fault for killing
her. They need to pay.”
“Ugh, who cares?” She frowned. “We need money now. I should go out and find work, too.”
“No.” My answer was swift.
She sat up and glared at me. “Why? I’m eighteen. If I want, I could just leave and take care of
myself.”
I winced at her hurtful words. I took a breath and reminded myself she was grieving, too. “How?
I’m doing the best I can. There isn’t much out there. You’re all I’ve got left, Kassi. There are bad
people out there, but I’ll keep you safe.”
She nibbled on her lower lip. For a moment, she appeared guilty, but that couldn’t be. She had done
nothing wrong.
It must be sadness. Our mother’s death was sudden. When that bus hit her crossing the street, our
world ended.
Suddenly, a shadow fell across the doorway. I tensed as a figure emerged, blocking the dim light
from the hall.
Those people must have come back.
A man stood there, tall and broad-shouldered, his features obscured by the dark. But I could see the
smile that twisted his lips, a cruel slash of white in the gloom.
Every instinct screamed danger as my heart pounded. I shifted to put myself between him and Kassi.
“Well, hello there.” His voice was smooth as silk, tinged with amusement. “And what have we
here?”
 He took a step forward, and dread coiled in the pit of my stomach. He wasn’t the same man as
earlier, his voice was more nasally. This man was trouble—I felt it in my bones. I didn’t know who
he was or what he wanted, but I knew with stark certainty that he would change everything.
Kassi peered around me, curiosity outweighing her usual caution. I gripped her arm, holding her
back. “Leave us alone,” I said, proud that my voice didn’t shake.
The man tilted his head, his black eyes gleaming. “Now, why would I do that? You seem in need
of... assistance. I’m here to offer my help.”
I bared my teeth in a snarl. “We don’t need anything from you. Go away.”
He chuckled, the sound sinister. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I was invited here.”
My brow creased. “No one invited you—”
“Emilia,” Kassi said, clearing her throat, “I asked him to come.”
We were no longer alone. We were no longer safe. My sister invited the big bad wolf straight into
our home.
 Chapter 2

itale
V My eyes narrowed as Domenick glared at me, daring me to protest.
The smell of rich mahogany and Cuban cigars hung heavy in the air as I sat there, my fingers
gripping the armrests of the leather chair so tightly, my knuckles turned white.
Domenick’s home office had always been a place of power, but now it felt like a prison cell. My
heart raced as the words echoed in my mind: arranged marriage to Angeline Bruno.
“Vitale,” Domenick drawled, his voice cold and commanding, “this is for the good of the family.”
I stared at him, unable to comprehend what he was saying. My older brother had always been the
one to make the hard decisions, but this one cut like a knife through my chest. My independence, my
freedom, all ripped away in an instant. I felt betrayed. Hadn’t I been loyal enough? Wasn’t I deserving
of making my own choices?
“Angeline is a good match,” he continued, leaning back in his imposing chair behind the desk. His
dark eyes were fixed on me, unyielding. Those eyes had seen bloodshed and made men tremble, and
now they held my fate in their gaze.
He kept on about all her lovely qualities, but I had stopped listening the moment he told me I was
going to marry.
“No,” Luca, the youngest of us, growled from the corner of the room.
But now, he stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, a challenge in his eyes as he looked
toward Domenick.
I watched Luca with a mixture of gratitude and disbelief. He had always been impulsive, reckless
even, but he was standing up for me when I couldn’t find my voice. Domenick’s eyes flicked over to
him.
 “Luca, this isn’t about you—” Domenick repeated, his voice rising in anger.
“I said no,” Luca said firmly, taking a step forward.
“The deal has been done, Luca. You have no say in this.”
“It’s already done? Do I have a say since I’m the one who’s supposed to marry her?” I stood, finally
standing up to my brother.
“I run this family. If I didn’t, you all would be dead... especially you.” Domenick pointed at Luca.
Luca sneered. “Maybe it would have been better if you just let Dad kill me. Have you ever thought
of that, big brother?”
I glared at Domenick. We all knew our father had it out for Luca. He blamed Luca for our mother’s
death, as if a newborn had any say on whether the birth killed his mother.
Our father had always been a heavy drinker, but Luca’s birth changed him and not for the better.
It was Domenick, or so I thought, who tried his best to protect Luca from our father’s wrath. Elba
helped, too.
Then the head of the Angel crime family took a liking to Domenick; took him under his wing and
taught my brother everything he knew.
Did he teach him to marry off his family like prizes at a fair?
“Maybe Vitale should at least meet Angeline first, before any of this happens. Before we have made
any promises.” Elba tried to soothe the room.
Elba was lucky since he was already married. I guess with him taken, I was next on my brother’s
list.
Domenick turned to face him. “But I have already made promises, Elba.”
“You’ve been away from this life for too long. Tough decisions need to be made. It’s done.” He lit a
cigar, the flame casting shadows across his stern face.
Luca stormed out of the room, but I didn’t go. I stayed like a good little family lap dog.
That’s what I was to Domenick. If he told me to go to Italy, then I hopped on a plane. If he told me to
track down our brother and kill him, then I grabbed my gun.
Now, he was asking me to lock myself up into a prison and throw away the key.
Elba and Domenick lowered their voices and made plans, glancing at the door Luca had just left.
My anger flared, burning hot inside me, but I did what I always did. I swallowed it up.
His tone left no room for argument, the finality of his decision weighing like a leaden blanket on my
shoulders, suffocating and hot. I pulled at my collar, ready to run out of his office and never look back
—just like our youngest brother, Luca, had done years ago.
 At that moment, I hated Domenick. The man who had always been my protector, my confidant, was
now the one ripping away my freedom.
Elba came over to comfort me, and I told him what he wanted to hear. I wasn’t angry at him. He
didn’t need to hear my harsh words.
My eyes lifted to Domenick as he gazed at a monitor on the wall. He was watching Luca drive
away.
“Have you even considered what Angeline wants?” I spat, my resentment spilling over in bitter
words.
He replied simply, not acknowledging my feelings, as if it was a business transaction.
My hands trembled, balled into fists as I tried to steady myself.
“Luca’s right,” I rasped, staring up at Domenick with all the defiance I could muster. “I won’t marry
her. You can’t force me.”
“Force you?” Domenick scoffed, going back to his chair and leaning back, the creak of the worn
material underscoring his words. “This isn’t about forcing anyone, Vitale. It’s about fulfilling your
duty to this family.”
“Like hell it is,” Elba interjected, slamming his palms on the desk, his face inches from
Domenick’s. “This is about control. You’ve always been obsessed with it.”
It wasn’t long ago that Domenick’s control caused Elba to run away, hiding and protecting the
woman he loved from Domenick’s control.
“Enough, both of you!” Domenick barked, his dark eyes narrowing. “We have already made the
arrangement, and there’s no backing out now.” His words hung heavy in the air, binding me like
chains, and leaving me breathless.
“Fuck,” Iggy said with a sigh, his head falling into his hands.
“Think about our family, Vitale,” Domenick implored, his stern expression softening just a fraction.
“We need this alliance, and Angeline... she’s a good woman. She’ll be a good wife to you.”
“Is that what it’s come to?” I whispered, my heart breaking beneath the weight of his words. “Am I
nothing more than a pawn in your schemes?”
“Vitale, don’t be foolish.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know I love you, but we
all have to sacrifice for the good of the family.”
“Even if it means sacrificing my happiness?” The question hung in the air between us, a damning
indictment of the life he’d chosen for me.
“Especially then,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
 The bitter taste of betrayal flooded my mouth as I stood from the chair, every muscle tense with
suppressed rage. Without another word, I left the office, the door clicking shut behind me like the
sound of a coffin closing.
As I walked through the dimly lit hall, my mind raced with thoughts of escape, of rebellion, but I
knew deep down that Domenick’s decision was final. If I ran, he’d probably sick Iggy on me. Turn my
brother against me, just like he had turned me against Elba last year.
He had sold me off like chattel, and there would be no escaping the gilded cage he’d built for me.
Torn between my loyalty to my family and my desire for independence, I stepped out into the humid,
late evening air, feeling as though I’d been devoured by the darkness itself.
The humid summer breeze blew across my face and stung like a hundred bees in an attempt to break
free from the branches of the courtyard trees. The rain had stopped earlier, but everything still felt
wet. The wind didn’t help stop the beads of sweat from falling from my forehead as I paced the
cobblestone courtyard.
My mind reeled with the magnitude of the situation I found myself in. I thought back to all the times I
had dutifully followed Domenick’s orders, never once questioning his decisions or the path he had set
for me. But this time was different... this time, it was personal.
I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, drawing blood that could not quench the fire
burning within me. The weight of my family’s expectations bore down on me, threatening to crush my
spirit entirely.
“Vitale.” Iggy’s familiar gravelly voice broke through my daze. I looked up to see my younger
brother approach, concern etched into the lines of his face. “You look like you’re about to tear
someone apart.”
“Maybe I am,” I replied bitterly, my eyes flicking away from his gaze and back to the darkening
expanse before me.
“Come on, man,” he urged gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get out of here. There’s a
club downtown where we can blow off some steam. You know how it is... sometimes, there’s nothing
better than losing yourself in the heat of a woman’s embrace.”
Normally, I’d jump at the idea of being with a woman, but now I was overcome with an emptiness
that threatened to swallow me whole.
“Is this really the time, Iggy?” I scoffed. “My life has just been decided for me, and you want me to
go fuck?”
 “Vitale, listen.” His grip on my shoulder tightened, and when I met his eyes, I saw a fierce
determination I hadn’t expected. “Nothing will change if you stay here, complaining to Domenick.
You know how he is. He’ll just double down. We’re Satrianos; we do what we have to for the family,
because that’s who we are. But we’re also men, Vitale, and sometimes we need to remember that.”
He paused, letting his words sink in. “So, let’s live a little, for tonight at least. Let yourself feel
something other than this anger, even if it’s just for a few hours. We’ve both sacrificed for the family,
but don’t let it consume you.”
Iggy gave up a lot, too. He was the only one who almost got out of this life, but even he couldn’t say
no to Domenick when the time came.
The wind howled around us as I mulled over his words. I knew he was right. I could either wallow
in my misery or take control of what little freedom I had left. With a sigh, I nodded. “Alright, Iggy.
Let’s go.”
“Good.” He grinned, clapping me on the back. “Trust me, this will help clear your head. This club
is special.”
As we walked toward the car, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever truly be free of the chains
that bound me to my family. For now, though, I would escape into the night, seeking solace in the arms
of a stranger—if only to forget, for a moment, the life that awaited me.
 Chapter 3

milia
E “Get out,” I yelled again.
The rusty metal door creaked as the man I had seen a few times before, but was smart enough to stay
clear of, smiled.
Gary Larson. I blinked at his silhouette in the doorway, my heart dropping like a stone in my chest.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?” His oily voice slid over my skin like a serpent.
I shot to my feet, fists clenching. “I said, get out.”
He sauntered over after closing the door behind him with a bang that vibrated my bones. My
stomach churned as his beady eyes raked over the sparse room, finally settling on Kassi huddled in
the corner. She stared up at him, wide-eyed and trembling.
Rage boiled in my veins. I strode forward and jabbed a finger in his chest, gritting my teeth. “Are
you deaf? I said get the hell out of here before—”
“Before what?” He grabbed my wrist, his grip like a vise. I gasped at the surge of pain shooting up
my arm. “I just came to help your dear sister earn a little money. Times are tough, in case you haven’t
noticed.”
I wrenched my arm from his grasp, my pulse pounding. “We don’t want your kind of help.”
Kassi crept up beside me, slipping her hand in mine. “I’m sorry, Em. I ran into Gary while you were
out, and he promised he could help me earn some cash quickly.”
My chest tightened at the note of desperation in her voice. We were barely scraping by, and if it
came down to it, Kassi would do whatever it took to ensure we survived—even if it meant putting
herself in danger. I couldn’t let that happen.
“What do you mean, you ran into him? You should have been here like I told you.”
 Kassi’s eyes slid to the ground. “I had to help. Once you left, I snuck out. Don’t worry, no one saw
me.”
I took a fortifying breath. No one saw her, except for the one person I hoped would never find her.
He was a pimp, the kind who let any man do anything they wanted to you for the right price. He
would promise to take care of you, only for the police to find your mutilated body in a ditch. There
were a few of Gary’s girls that ended up that way. No one knew if it was Gary or the johns he got
who did that to those girls.
“Except for him,” I said through gritted teeth.
“He was so helpful, Em. He even paid for a meal at that diner by the dog park.”
Of course, he did. Pay for a meal for the girl who would make him money. I wasn’t blind. My sister
was young and beautiful; Gary could get lots of money from her and pay her pennies in return.
I squeezed her hand, meeting her gaze. “We’ll find another way.”
A low chuckle rumbled in Gary’s throat. I turned and found his smirk stretching wider, a glint in his
eyes that turned my blood cold. He leaned in close, his sour breath hot on my face. “There is no other
way,” he purred, fingering a strand of my hair. I shuddered, torn between disgust and a traitorous
spark of heat. “So why don’t we make a deal?”
I swallowed hard, struggling not to recoil from his touch. “We’re not interested in any deals with
you.”
“Oh, I think you’ll want to hear this one.” He jerked his chin at Kassi, who stared up at him with
frightened eyes. “There’s an upscale club I know about, where wealthy men will pay top dollar for an
hour with your sweet little sister. It would solve all your money problems.”
Kassi’s fingers tightened around mine, and I pulled her closer to my side. My heart thudded wildly,
panic and fury churning in my gut. I couldn’t let him get his grimy hands on my sister.
“If she did it a few times, she could earn enough for you both to rent a small apartment. You’d be
set. Just a few times, and I bet the right guy would pay for your rent for a year. That’s the kind of place
it is.” His lips curved into a sly grin, relishing my distress. “Unless you have a better plan?”
I met Kassi’s gaze, willing her to understand. “Don’t listen to him. He’s lying.”
She blinked at me with confusion, torn between hope and doubt. “But Em, if it’s true—”
“It’s not.” I cupped her face in my hands, staring into her eyes. “He wants to use you. What those
men would do to you... it’s not worth any amount of money.”
Her chin trembled, and she whispered, “You’re sure?”
 I pulled her into my arms, wrapping her in my embrace. “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” I vowed,
glaring at Gary over her shoulder. “Now get out before I call the police.”
His head fell back as laughter roared out of his mouth. “Police?” His chuckles soon died. “They’d
arrest you for trespassing. You won’t call the police.”
“Fine. I won’t, but that doesn’t mean I’m giving in to your scheme. I’m not like Sally.”
She was the latest victim found by the river’s edge a few weeks ago. She had told me about Gary’s
other girls and worried he would hurt her, too. I told her to leave him, but she had no place to go.
Gary’s eyes narrowed, but after a tense moment, he backed toward the exit. “You know I always get
my way. If you don’t come, I’ll just have my guys make your sister come. And they’ll want a taste of
her first before they hand her over to me.”
He wasn’t bluffing. Gary always got his way.
Darkness crept into my gut and I shuddered, imagining what would happen to Kassi if the men Gary
worked with found her. I shook my head, more so to chase away that dark thought than to refuse him.
“Fine.” Bile rose in my throat. “But I do it, not Kassi. My sister stays here.”
I swallowed hard as Gary’s beady eyes raked over my body, a predatory gleam in their depths. My
stomach churned with dread, but I kept my chin high, refusing to show any weakness. For Kassi’s
sake, I had to be strong.
“We have a deal then,” Gary said, flashing a sly grin. He grabbed my arm in an iron grip and
steered me toward the door. I cast one last glance at my sister, trying to reassure her with a
determined smile. She watched us leave with wide, frightened eyes, her hands twisting anxiously in
front of her.
Gary hustled me into the back of a black sedan, shoving me onto the leather seat. My heart pounded
as he slid in next to me, reaching over to grope my breast with greedy fingers. I flinched away from
his touch, glaring at him with disgust.
“Plenty of time for that later.” He chuckled. “The customers will pay more for an untouched girl.”
My stomach churned, but I lifted my chin higher, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my
fear. The drive to the club passed in a haze, my mind racing as I braced myself for what was to come.
No matter what happened to me, as long as I kept Kassi safe, that was all that mattered.
When we arrived, I stared up at the elegant stone facade in disbelief, momentarily stunned. This
looked more like a five-star hotel than some seedy underground club. Inside, gleaming marble floors
and spiraling staircases led to private rooms on the upper levels, discreetly shielded by velvet
curtains.
 Men in expensive suits lounged at the bar or on plush leather sofas, smoking cigars and drinking
brandy from crystal glasses. A few cast appraising glances in my direction, hunger stirring in their
gazes, but most were focused on the stage ahead.
My eyes widened as I took in the scene unfolding before me. A young woman, naked except for a
dog collar around her neck, was on her hands and knees while a man fucked her from behind,
thrusting into her ruthlessly as she whimpered. With a sharp crack, he brought a riding crop down
across her ass, and she cried out in pain.
Horror flooded through me, and I recoiled against Gary’s grip. This was a mistake. I had to get out
of here now, before it was too late.
I struggled in Gary’s grasp, panic rising in my chest. “Let me go! I won’t do this. We have to leave
now.”
Gary’s fingers dug into my arm, holding me in place. “I don’t think so. You made a deal, sweetheart,
and now it’s time to pay up.” His voice was hard and unyielding. “Unless you want your sister taking
your place...”
I froze at his words, the threat as effective as a knife against my throat. He knew exactly how to
control me. I couldn’t let Kassi end up here, at the mercy of these depraved men. She wouldn’t
survive it.
With a defeated sigh, I stopped fighting. What other choice did I have? I had walked into this
willingly to protect the person I loved the most in this world.
“That’s better,” Gary purred, smoothing a hand down my back in a mocking caress. “Time to go
onstage. I’m sure the boys will be generous with their bids tonight.” He gave me a little shove, urging
me toward the platform ahead.
My legs felt wooden and unsteady as I climbed the steps. I kept my gaze fixed straight ahead,
refusing to make eye contact with anyone in the crowd. Their heated stares crawled over my body
like spiders, sending shivers down my spine.
I tried to retreat into myself when the bidding began to block it all out. I was no longer Emilia Dunn;
I was just a body up for sale. The price went higher and higher as more men got caught up in the
frenzy. Finally, a deep, smooth voice rang out above the others, placing the winning bid.
With dread pooling in my stomach, I searched the crowd for the man who now owned me. And
when my eyes met his, a jolt of electricity shot through me—fear and something else I couldn’t quite
name. I didn’t know which was worse. All I knew was that after tonight, I would have enough money
to fill my belly and find a safe place for my sister to rest her head.
 I swallowed hard as the man approached the stage, handing a wad of cash to Gary before turning his
attention to me. He was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit. His
angular face was harsh but compelling, with penetrating dark brown eyes that seemed to see right
through me.
“What is your name?” he asked, studying me.
“Emilia. What is yours?”
“Come,” was all he said, not answering my question but crooking a finger at me before turning and
walking away.
His tone brooked no argument, and I did what I was told.
 Chapter 4

milia
E As I pushed open the door to the luxurious hotel room, a mix of fear and curiosity clawed at
my insides. The air was heavy with the aroma of rose-scented candles, and the dimmed chandelier
above cast a warm glow over the lavish furnishings. I hesitated in the doorway for a moment, feeling
like an intruder in a forbidden world.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet beneath me. My
eyes swept across the opulent surroundings, the sheer extravagance of it all making me both
awestruck and uneasy.
A massive king-sized bed dominated the center of the room, its silken sheets reflecting the flickering
light from the fireplace. To one side, an elegant sofa sat against a wall adorned with exquisite
artwork, while a fully stocked bar gleamed under a row of crystal decanters on the other side.
“Are you just going to stand there?” A voice drawled from somewhere in the shadows.
I felt my heart flutter in my chest, anxiety gnawing at the edges of my composure. The voice
belonged to the man who had brought me here, the man whose name I still didn’t know. Was this part
of his game? To keep me guessing, to keep me off balance? I played along, pretending that his
presence didn’t unnerve me.
“I guess you want to get to it,” I said, forcing a smile as I gestured toward the bed.
“Get to it?” He emerged from the doorway, and even though he was only a few feet away, I couldn’t
help but shudder at the thought of what he might do next. This was not the life I had planned for
myself, but when Kassi’s safety was at stake, I would do whatever it took to protect her... even if it
meant dancing with the devil himself.
 “Come closer,” he commanded, his tone as smooth as velvet and just as dangerous. I wanted to
resist, to tell him I wouldn’t be his plaything, but Gary knew where to find Kassi. That thought kept
me rooted in place.
I felt irresistibly drawn to him as I approached, like a moth being lured by a shining light, fully
aware of the danger but unable to resist the allure. The room seemed to grow smaller, more
suffocating, as if the extravagant décor was closing in on me. But I knew it wasn’t the splendor that
made me uneasy, it was the man who stood before me, his very presence commanding submission.
“Is this what you’re used to?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, as I stopped dangerously
close to him. “People doing whatever you command?”
“Perhaps,” he replied, his gaze never leaving mine. “Or perhaps I simply wanted to see fire burn
behind those golden eyes of yours.”
“Fire?” I scoffed, my bravado wavering for only a moment. “What fire?”
He mistook the fire for fear, clawing at the fragile walls of self-control I had erected. Safeguards,
built from the knowledge that if I balked at the situation, something terrible would happen to my
sister.
Being in that dusty basement with my sister felt safer than the beautifully decorated room I was
standing in. A fresh coat of paint could not conceal my fear.
“Ah, but there is no mistake, Emilia,” he said, his voice low and seductive. “You’re the woman I
need. You’re the flame that will scorch the earth, killing everything that binds me.”
“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice barely masking the tremor of fear beneath it. Perhaps
knowing his name would grant me some semblance of control in this unnerving situation.
“Vitale Satriano,” he replied, enunciating each syllable as if it were a delicacy to be savored. The
weight of his gaze bore down on me like an invisible hand, pressing me into submission.
“Vitale,” I repeated, allowing the name to roll off my tongue, hoping that saying it out loud would
diffuse some of the power he held over me. But it was a futile attempt; I felt the magnetic pull of his
presence, drawing me closer, despite my instinct screaming at me to run.
“Tell me something, Emilia.” He stepped toward me with the predatory grace of a panther stalking
its prey. “Do you enjoy being afraid?”
The question caught me off guard, and I faltered for a moment. “Fear can be useful,” my words were
measured, “it keeps us alive.”
“Ah, but there is a difference between fear and terror, my vengeance,” Vitale murmured, his voice a
dark caress that sent shivers down my spine. His eyes seemed to pierce through me, reading my
innermost thoughts as easily as one might read a book. “Fear can be controlled, harnessed... but
terror? That is something else entirely.”
“Why did you call me vengeance?” I asked, my heart pounding wildly in my chest as I fought to
maintain my composure. “That’s not my name.”
“Just a pet name,” Vitale mused, a small, sinister smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Or maybe
it’s a promise.”
“I don’t know you,” I retorted, my hands balling into fists at my sides as I struggled to hold on to my
courage. “If you’re angry at someone else, don’t take it out on me. Just so you know, I don’t break
easily.”
“Of that, I have no doubt,” he replied, his voice smooth as silk. “But the question remains: what
will you do when your fear turns into desire?”
The very suggestion sent a thrill of terror through me, igniting a desperate need to prove him wrong.
“Emilia,” Vitale murmured, his voice a velvet whip that sent shivers down my spine. “I want you to
undress for me.”
My breath hitched, and I stared at him in disbelief as the order settled heavily in the air between us.
It was as if he had struck me, leaving a mark on my very soul. The humiliation burned hot in my
cheeks, and I felt a sudden urge to flee the room. But where would I go? I rubbed my bare toes on the
heel of my other foot. It was smart of the auction to remove our shoes so we wouldn’t run.
But now, I desperately wanted my worn kicks back.
“Wh-what?” I stammered, trying to wrap my head around the command.
“You heard me.” His tone left no room for argument or misunderstanding. “Remove your clothes.
Now.”
My hands trembled as I reached for the hem of my blue top, feeling every inch the helpless prey
before this predatory man. How could he expect me to simply disrobe in front of him, to display
myself like a piece of meat at the market? The degradation was almost too much to bear.
I swore I would do what it took for Kassi, but now that I was here, in front of him undressing, it felt
like I could barely breathe.
“Please,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, even to my own ears. “Don’t do this.”
“Silence,” he snapped, his eyes flashing with impatience. “You won’t like it if I do it for you.”
Swallowing hard, I forced my fingers to pull my shirt over my head. My mind raced, searching for
any way out of this situation, but all I could focus on were the cold tendrils of dread creeping through
my veins.
 Once the top was off, I let the fabric fall from my fingertips, leaving me exposed in only my bra. A
shudder wracked my body as the cool air kissed my heated skin, and I couldn’t help but feel like a
lamb being led to slaughter.
“Continue,” Vitale commanded, his gaze never wavering from my trembling form.
Tears prickled the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn’t give him the
satisfaction of seeing me cry. Instead, I locked away my fear and humiliation, burying it beneath a
wall of determination and resolve.
“Stay strong,” I whispered to myself as I pulled down my leggings, letting it pool around my ankles.
“You can endure this. For Kassi.”
Standing before Vitale in only my worn white bra and mismatched panties, I felt more vulnerable
than I ever had in my life. My heart pounded for freedom, and I fought the urge to cover myself with
my hands.
“Very good,” he said, his voice a dark caress that made my stomach churn. “Now turn around,
slowly.”
I obeyed, each rotation feeling like another step toward my destruction.
When I completed my rotation, I found Vitale’s piercing brown eyes locked onto mine, their depths
inscrutable. The air seemed to hum with tension as he stepped closer, invading my personal space
until I felt the heat radiating off his body.
“Look at me,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear, sending shivers down my spine, despite
my revulsion. I forced myself to meet his gaze, struggling to keep my fear in check.
He raised one hand and trailed his fingertips along my collarbone, a featherlight touch that elicited
an involuntary gasp from me. To my dismay, I felt my body respond to his caress, the sensitive skin
prickling with awareness, my pulse quickening beneath his fingertips.
“Your body is quite responsive, Vengeance,” Vitale whispered, a cruel smile playing on his lips as
he continued his exploration of my trembling form. “It shows me what you deny.”
“Please,” I choked out, my voice barely audible. “I don’t want this.”
“Ah, but I think you do,” he countered, his fingers tracing the curve of my breast before slipping
beneath the edge of my bra. My heart pounded wildly, caught between shame and a confusing surge of
desire.
“Enough,” I snapped, trying to summon control over the situation. “What do you want from me?”
“Everything,” Vitale replied, stepping back and allowing me a moment to breathe. “You belong to
me now, Emilia. Your body, your mind, your very soul... they are all mine to command.”
 I stared at him, horror-stricken, as the full weight of his words settled upon me. “You can’t keep me
here forever,” I protested, my voice shaking with fear and anger.
“Can’t I?” He chuckled darkly, the sound echoing through the opulent room like a sinister melody.
“Who is going to miss you? That’s what those auctions are, you know. They pluck the girls off the
streets—the ones no one cares about—and they sell them for profit. It’s how the world works. And
because of that, I can use you however I see fit.”
My knees threatened to buckle beneath the crushing weight of his words, but I held myself upright,
determined not to let him see me crumble. I would find a way out. I had to.
“Your defiance is appealing,” Vitale raised his brow, studying me with a predatory gleam in his
eyes, “but ultimately futile. You will learn to submit to me, Emilia. In time.”
“Never,” I whispered, my voice raw with emotion. I knew, however, that my body’s betrayal might
make that promise difficult to keep. The thought left me feeling more vulnerable than ever. My very
soul was soon to be laid bare before this cruel and powerful man, much like my body.
Heavy silence stretched between us and a shiver ran down my spine as the cold air caressed my
exposed skin. I couldn’t help but think of my sister, Kassi. The fear for her safety threatened to shatter
the fragile resolve I had gathered. My lips parted, a desperate plea on the tip of my tongue, wanting to
tell Vitale about her. But I hesitated, swallowing the words. There was no telling what he might do if
he knew how much she meant to me.
“Is there something you wish to say?” Vitale asked, his voice like silk laced with venom. His gaze
bore into mine, as if he could see the secret I so desperately wanted to keep hidden within the depths
of my golden eyes.
“Nothing,” I murmured, my tone barely audible. The tremor in my voice betrayed the turmoil that
raged within me. I took a deep breath, steeling myself against the urge to reveal Kassi’s existence, and
focused on the man who held my life in his grip instead.
“Good.” He leaned toward me, the heat of his body contrasting with the chill of the room. “You’re
learning.”
My heart clenched at the implication that I was being broken, molded to fit his twisted desires.
“Tell me,” Vitale whispered, his breath hot against my ear, “do you still believe you can defy me?”
I stared into his cold, calculating eyes and nodded, unable to trust my voice. My defiance was
tangible, thrumming beneath my skin like a living thing. It was the only weapon I had left, and I would
wield it with all the strength I could muster.
 “There’s that fire,” he murmured, his fingers brushing along my jawline in a deceptively tender
caress. “It will make your eventual submission all the more satisfying.”
“Keep dreaming,” I spat, the words bitter and sharp. My pulse raced, adrenaline surging through my
veins as I clung to the memory of Kassi’s smile, innocent and pure
“Ah, Emilia,” Vitale sighed, his fingers tightening on my chin, “I’ve overlooked the dirt under your
ragged fingernails. And then your tangled hair. I will help you, and you can’t even see it. You will
want me. Beg for me.”
And before I could respond, he grabbed my chin, his fingers digging into my flesh. “I thought I just
wanted a fuck tonight, but buying you has made me realize that you’re so much more than sweet pussy.
You are my vengeance.”
 Chapter 5

itale
V I meant what I said. I would help Emilia.
Her nostrils flared as she tried to remain strong. She wasn’t a very good actress.
“You need food, clothes. I will provide those things for you.”
I let go of her chin and took a step back.
She was bare as the day she was born, red hair cascading down her back like tongues of fire
dancing on the pale desert sand. Her body, a living sculpture, effortlessly merged the lines between
sensuality and innocence. I couldn’t help but drink in the sight of her.
“Vitale,” she whispered, her voice like silk against my eardrums. She didn’t bother trying to cover
herself, but her golden eyes held an air of defiance that only fueled my desire for her.
“Emilia,” I said, my voice betraying no emotion. But deep within me, a whirlwind of thoughts
raged. With Emilia, I might use her, not just for pleasure, but for Domenick’s pain.
“When will you let me go?” Emilia’s voice quivered, but her eyes never left mine.
I slowly closed the distance between us, feeling my heartbeat quicken with each step. As much as I
wanted her, I couldn’t ignore the fact that she could be the key to my revenge. The way Domenick had
used me, played me like a pawn in his twisted game... It was time he felt the sting of betrayal, too.
“Tell me, Emilia,” I began, stopping just inches from her, close enough to feel the heat radiating
from her naked body. “What do you know about loyalty?”
“Enough to know that it can be both a blessing and a curse,” she answered, her eyes searching mine
for something I couldn’t quite place.
“Would you be loyal to me, Emilia, if it meant betraying someone else?”
“No,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
 She was quick. I smiled.
“I asked that too soon.”
I could see the conflict flicker in her eyes. Emilia didn’t trust my response.
She wasn’t just quick; she was smart, too.
Her gaze darted over to the bed and frowned. “I never should have left Kassi today,” she
whispered.
Kassi. Emilia thought I didn’t hear her, but I did. I made a mental note to ask around about Kassi.
“You get cleaned up.” I nodded toward the bathroom. “And I’ll get us some food.”
Those golden eyes of hers widened. “O-okay.”
She was hesitant.
I reached up and cupped her breast, pinching her nipple hard. She sucked in a breath between her
teeth.
“I can do what I want when I want, you know that. So, understand that when I want you to clean and
feed yourself, it’s because I plan to do things to your body that will require stamina. And while you
are a beautiful woman, you obviously haven’t cleaned yourself in a while. I will fuck no one like
that.”
She wrapped her arms around her torso, suddenly aware of all the flaws I pointed out.
“I won’t repeat myself.”
She nodded and ran into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
I let out a long sigh and walked over to the bedside table. Picking up the phone, I called to order
room service. After that, I had a few items of clothing brought up from the hotel gift shop. They
weren’t something I would pick out for her from a clothing boutique, but they would do for now.
Both the food and the clothing arrived right as I heard the shower shut off.
I had gone through the room service menu and ordered—as much as possible—a healthy meal. As
long as Emilia was in my possession, I wanted to ensure she ate until she was full.
Emilia came out of the bathroom wearing a hotel bathrobe, fresh from a shower. I sat on the bed and
watched as she approached the table filled with food.
Standing in front of the table, she lifted her head to look at me. I gestured for her to sit.
Her skin glistened from the shower. She didn’t have any makeup on, but her face was still radiant.
“Did you get cleaned up?” I asked.
“As best as I could,” she admitted.
I got up and walked over to the table and sat opposite her. “Eat,” I commanded.
 She said nothing as she picked up her utensils and scooped up a forkful of pasta.
She chewed and swallowed, then picked up a piece of chicken and devoured it. It was as if I had
disappeared. She was grabbing from the dishes and grunting as if this was her first taste of food.
I watched as she ate. Her hair was wet, wild, and free; her hands and mouth hungry for food. All of
it made her seem like a wild animal.
I got hard just thinking about it.
She devoured the plate of pasta and chicken, shoveling each bite into her mouth.
I rose from my seat and snatched the other fork and plunged it into the morsel of chicken that lay on
the plate. With force, I drove the metal tines into the piece of meat and held it out to her, heat coursing
through my veins as I watched her take it with greedy satisfaction.
She licked the savory drips from her plump lips, then her mouth opened again as I fed her.
She let the meat drop into her mouth. When she bit down on it, her pink lips wrapped around the
utensils and her eyes rolled back in her head.
I watched as she swallowed, my dick growing harder with each movement. I couldn’t wait until it
was my cock in her throat.
“You like that?” I asked.
She nodded, and I fed her another bite.
“I want to hear you say it.”
She didn’t have to ask what I meant. Her eyes flashed, and she said the words I wanted to hear, “I
like it.”
I fed her another bite. She rolled her tongue around the fork and took the bite. Then she chewed and
swallowed.
“Oh, god,” she moaned in satisfaction, wiping her wet, red lips with her forearm.
Putting down the fork, I grabbed a wineglass and poured the dark red wine from the decanter.
“Drink.” I held the glass by the stem between my fingers.
She grabbed it and gulped it down within seconds.
She didn’t even taste it.
I took the glass back from her and poured another glass.
“This time, savor it.”
Plucking the glass from me, she gulped it down again, but I stopped her before she could finish.
“I said, savor.” I brought the glass to her lips.
 Her lips parted, and I tipped the liquid back until a small amount slipped into her mouth. “Don’t
swallow.”
She studied me, waiting for my next instruction.
Her lips were still at my mercy, and I felt her hot breath. Tipping the glass a little further back, I let
the wine fill her mouth.
Like a stage performer, she held the wine in her mouth, then slowly swallowed it.
I let her drink from the glass a few more times, my heart racing as I watched.
“Good,” I told her when she had enough. “You’re done.”
She frowned and glanced at the remaining food on the table.
Reaching over, I grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at me. “When I say you’re done, you stand,
waiting for your next instruction.”
Emilia had a lot to learn, but I was going to enjoy teaching her.
She nodded, her eyes widening.
“Good.” I smiled.
Pulling down my slacks and my black boxer briefs, I sat on the edge of the bed. “Come kneel
between my legs.”
She doesn’t make a sound as she rose to her feet.
“You’re going to do exactly what I say.”
She knelt between my legs, her knees on the soft carpet, her golden eyes shining up at me. She knew
what I wanted, and she waited patiently for my next command.
My hands slid around her nape, gently applying pressure, holding her head in place. “Open your
mouth.”
Her lips parted as she obeyed. “Give me your tongue.”
Emilia didn’t question me again. I wanted the pleasure of seeing her tongue, so I positioned it where
I wanted it, holding her head in place as I brought her lips to the tip of my cock. “Suck.”
She didn’t hesitate as she wrapped her lips around my head. Her lips felt warm and soft. Her tongue
licked my tip as she dipped her head, burying her mouth in my lap.
My knees trembled as my cock twitched. She felt so good. I had the urge to make her take all of me,
deep into her throat, but I sucked in a breath to control myself.
She didn’t stop me, not even when I pushed her deeper on my cock. I thrust my shaft into her mouth
until I hit the back of her throat, then I stopped, waiting for her to adjust.
 Her mouth was warm and wet, her tongue relaxing and opening as she tasted me.“Fuck,” I
whispered, pulling out a little. “Now, suck.” I waited for her to do as I said a second time before I
started my rhythm. With my hands guiding her head, she bobbed on my shaft, her lips stretching with
each thrust. I grabbed her head and drove into her, holding her still as I thrust into her mouth.
“Good girl.” I blew out a breath. “Good girl,” I repeated, my voice harsh in my ears.
Her mouth was magic, and I was losing it. I wanted to lift her up and bend her over, but I knew she
required more time.
This was just the first night. She was saying yes to me, so I would normally let her go. I would stop
and slowly teach her over several days how to suck my cock.
But that was the thing... I wasn’t going to do that with Emilia.
I continued to fuck her mouth until I couldn’t hold back any longer. Pulling out of her, I let her watch
me stroke my cock, milking the cum from my balls. I brought her head to my cock and as soon as she
opened her mouth, I released, sending thick streams of cum into her mouth.
“Swallow,” I ordered her, needing to watch her throat work as she took down every drop.
She did as she was told, swallowing the sticky liquid.
“That’s it,” I breathed.
She licked her lips.
I stared as she gazed up at me with hopeful eyes. She wanted out, but I needed her. I would let her
go... just not yet.
 Chapter 6

milia
E “Kassi,” I called out in a groggy voice.
My eyes flickered open, ready to tell my sister about the crazy dream I had. Something felt wrong,
yet familiar. The soft mattress and silky bedding could only belong to one place and not the cold
cement floor of the abandoned office building. My breath hitched in my throat as I noticed someone
standing right at the foot of the bed. A man.
I scrambled to sit up, but he stopped me abruptly as his hand covered my mouth. Fear surged
through my veins as reality set in. This wasn’t a dream. I was really here, vulnerable, in the presence
of that man.
Vitale Satriano. The man that bought me and told me how I would beg for him.
He didn’t know me. I was a survivor. He believed he could break me like some sort of wild animal.
But that would not happen.
I had to take care of my sister. If that meant I go along with his twisted sexual kinks until he let
down his guard and I could escape, then so be it.
“Shh,” he whispered, his hot breath against my ear.
I tried to read his expression, but it was stoic, just like everything about him. The only thing that
betrayed his emotion was the hard bulge between his legs, pressing against his trousers. I knew what
that meant. He wasn’t here to kill me or hurt me—not yet, anyway—he was here for pleasure.
Vitale removed his hand from my mouth slowly, his fingers trailing along my skin as if he was
memorizing the texture of me. “Good morning, Emilia,” he said, his voice smooth but commanding.
I didn’t answer, partly out of fear and partly out of defiance. I would not give him the satisfaction of
thinking he had any sort of control over me.
 His hand trailed down my neck, across my collarbone, and stopped at my breast. I attempted to push
him away, but he was too strong. He squeezed hard enough to make me gasp, but not enough to cause
any genuine pain.
As his hand continued to explore my body, my mind raced with thoughts of escape, but they were
quickly snuffed out by the desire growing inside me.
I hated Vitale with every fiber of my being, yet my body betrayed me. My nipples hardened under
his touch, and I couldn’t help the moan that escaped my lips.
Once he got the response from me he wanted, his hand slid down further until his fingers fluttered
over my upper thighs.
I tried to resist the urge to moan as he ran his fingers up my inner thigh, tracing circles along my
skin. It was wrong, so wrong, but I couldn’t deny the way my body was reacting to his touch.
I bit my lip hard, hoping the pain would break me free from his trance. The moment was broken
when he leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “You will beg for me, Emilia.”
It was a statement, not a question.
Finally, I’d had enough. With a surge of strength, I pushed him away and quickly grabbed the nearest
object, a glass, and held it up as if it were a weapon. “Don’t touch me,” I said with determination in
my voice.
He looked amused, his dark brown eyes glittering with a hint of admiration. “You’re a brave one,”
he said, slowly backing away.
Vitale stood there for a moment, staring at me.
I was naked with a hard object in my hand, ready to throw at any second, and he knew that.
“If you wish to be alone this morning, then I will grant you your wish.” Vitale turned his back and
left the room without another word.
I felt a wave of relief wash over me as I watched him disappear. But the feeling didn’t last long.
Why had he walked away so easily?
To him, I was just an object he bought to use as he wanted. Yet, he gave in.
Something was wrong.
Too bad I wouldn’t stick around to find out what he was hiding. I jumped out of bed and ran to the
bathroom. My clothes weren’t there.
He must have put them somewhere. I looked around the room for my clothes but didn’t find them.
Finally, I found a door to the closet, hoping there was something I could wear in there.
But when I opened the carved wooden door, only wobbling hangers greeted me.
 I was naked, with no access to clothing, not even a robe.
Towels. I’d use the towels and ask the front desk to look in their lost and found bin. It was a trick I
used in the past to get new clothes for Kassi and me.
There was bound to be something that fit me.
I raced back to the bathroom and stood there in shock. The only towel in the room was a hand
towel. Nothing more.
I was trapped.
My teeth clenched as I realized Vitale did this on purpose. He knew I’d try to run. Fuck.
My nostrils flared. I took a deep breath and decided. He thought he was smart, but he misjudged me.
There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t go through to get to my sister, even if it meant walking around naked
in a hotel.
I had no choice. I’d have to use the hand towel and pray for the best.
I wrapped the small towel around my body and opened the door. Thankfully, the hallway was
empty.
Slowly, I crept toward the elevator, but stopped. What if it opened and was filled with people?
Even if it wasn’t, on the way down, it could stop on any floor and anyone could get in.
Even Vitale.
I glanced around and found the entrance to the stairwell.
Using the handrail to keep my balance, I traveled down the stairs. At every turn, I expected Vitale to
jump out and yell at me, but he never showed up.
Right as I got to the fourth floor, the door popped open and two men appeared. They were talking
and laughing until they saw me, and their eyes widened.
“I need your help.” I kept my voice low in case Vitale was nearby.
One of them nodded as a smile grew on his face.
“It sure looks like you do.” His smile grew and the hairs on my neck stood up.
“What’s your name, pretty?” the other asked as they both moved toward me and the door slammed
shut behind them.
“Uh, never mind.” I mumbled as I backed up the stairs.
“Come on,” the first one said as he approached me. “We’ll help you.” He winked and reached out
for me.
I yelped and jerked my arm away, which caused me to lose my balance.
Tumbling backward, I landed in one of the men’s arms.
 “Gotcha.” He snickered.
I shivered as his grip tightened around my waist and I felt his breath on the back of my neck. My
eyes darted around the stairwell in search of a weapon. There was nothing.
“Pin down her legs,” the guy who held me yelled.
I wiggled and tried my best to get out of their grip, but I couldn’t.
There was a loud bang of a door swinging open above. Someone was coming into the stairwell. I
cried out, but it was muffled by one of the men’s hand on my mouth.
Footsteps echoed through the stairwell and grew louder until they stopped. I attempted to kick and
groan to make some noise, but it didn’t help.
“Did you two need some help?” A voice so cold, I recognized it immediately came from behind me.
Vitale.
“You want in? If you help us back to our room, we’ll let you take a turn with her.” The guy holding
down my legs smiled.
“Take a turn?” Vitale’s voice was smooth as the silk bedspread that covered me last night. “Now,
why would I do that?”
The guy shrugged. “Hey, if it’s not your thing, you can just watch while we fuck her. But be warned,
she’s a fighter.”
“I know... because she’s mine,” Vitale said.
“Yours? What do you mean—” The guy holding my legs loosened his grip.
A loud bang rang out, and I noticed a small red hole in the middle of his forehead. His eyes
softened, and he fell forward.
The guy holding me dropped me and tried to scuttle away like a frightened animal, but Vitale wasn’t
done.
He grabbed the guy by the collar and slammed him up against the cement wall, pushing the barrel of
the gun into his forehead.
“You took what was mine.”
“I, uh... I swear, I didn’t know. She never told us—” Vitale didn’t want to hear the rest.
He did to that guy what he had done to the other—a clean shot right into his forehead.
Vitale put his gun back into its holster and reached for me. He pulled me to my feet and held me
close. His heart was beating fast, and I could feel his chest heaving.
“You’re okay now,” he whispered as he stroked my hair.
I sagged into his arms.
 He slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders, guiding me back upstairs.
At that moment, I felt safe in Vitale’s arms, and for the first time since last night, I could relax. I
buried my head into his chest and let out a deep sigh.
Once we got back to the room, he said, “Go over to the bed and bend over.”
My brows shot up in surprise. Was he going to spank me like a child?
“Don’t make me say it twice, Emilia.”
I scurried over and did as he said, laying my head and arms on the bed with my ass in the air.
My heart beat wildly in my chest.
He came up behind me and slowly traced up my back with his hands, giving me shivers. He then
grabbed hold of my wrists and pinned them to the bed. I gasped as he trailed light kisses up my spine,
causing my skin to prickle with goosebumps.
He bent down and whispered in my ear, “I never want you to leave this room without my
permission ever again. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Vitale. I understand,” I replied, my voice trembling.
“Keep your hands in place and do not move them.”
“Y-yes,” I said, before nibbling on my lower lip.
Vitale kneeled behind me, pressing his lips against my thighs. He ran his hands along my waist and
back, sending shivers through my body.
My core vibrated in anticipation.
He leaned forward and slid his tongue over my wet folds. The pleasure was intense, and I gasped
as he lapped at my pussy.
He slid a few fingers into my core as his tongue lapped up my juices.
My hips gyrated, wanting more of the pleasure he gave me. His other hand grabbed my hip, holding
me in place.
It was intense, and I didn’t know what was happening. I had never experienced this before.
All I knew was that I wanted more.
“Yes,” I whimpered.
His thumb slid over my clit, and my eyes widened at the sharp pleasure that burst out from his
touch.
Something was happening... Something I wanted.
“More.” I curled my fingers into the soft bedspread.
He groaned but kept his leisurely pace.
 “Vitale. Please. More,” I cried out, though I wished I hadn’t.
Because it was at that moment it stopped. Vitale pulled away and stood.
I looked back as he licked his lips, then smirked. “I told you that you would beg for me.”
Then he turned and left the room. I sat up, my pussy throbbing and soaked, while the man I hated left
me a withering mess.
He was right; I wanted him to relieve me of this ache. My wall of intense hatred of Vitale Satriano
was cracking.
How long until it crumbled into dust?
 Chapter 7

itale
V Staring at my bloodshot eyes in the mirror, I rubbed my face.
I left Emilia in the hotel room last night, begging to come, and never went back.
It took all my willpower to walk away from her, to leave her withering and so wet for me.
It’s not the first time I left a woman begging for more, but this time was different. Last night I stood
outside the hotel room, desperately wanting to go back inside. To sink my cock deep inside her
swollen pussy and get lost inside Emilia.
My phone buzzed. Domenick.
He texted me the location of our lunch, and my eyes widened at the name of the hotel.
The Kendrick.
It was so fucked up. I was to have lunch with my future bride and in-laws at the hotel restaurant
where the woman I bought was staying.
Taking one last look at myself in my bathroom mirror at home, far from the hotel where Emilia
stayed, I pushed my shoulders back to prepare for the start of my plan.
Emilia was just a pawn in the game I was about to play. Did it bother me that I was just using her?
No.
I had spent long enough in this world, surrounded by criminals and people willing to sacrifice
anything to gain power. I learned early on to not let emotions affect me.
But now my brother, Domenick, wanted to chain me to a woman I never met, Angeline Bruno. All to
align with their family.
They weren’t even a powerful family, but they did control a lot of territory outside of Chicago.
 It was like my brother was selling me off to the lowest bidder. I had seen what Domenick did to
Elba—the second oldest—causing Elba to run and hide from our family. He expected me to hunt
down my own brother and kill him.
I may be hardened to this way of life, but I refused to kill my brother when the only mistake he made
was by following his heart.
Now I was expected to sacrifice my heart, my body, my soul to a lesser family.
That would not happen.
Emily was my vengeance.
Unlike my brothers, I had a condo in the city. They lived in large estates outside of town, but I felt it
important to remain close to the action.
My plan swirled in my head as I stepped to the elevator of my penthouse and waited for it to arrive.
Once the doors opened, I stepped in and made my way to the lobby.
“Morning, Mr. Satriano.” The security guard smiled as he stood behind his desk.
“Good morning, John. How the Cubs looking?”
I stopped by his desk and made small talk about baseball, his favorite sport, before making my way
outside.
The sun felt warm against my skin as I stepped out onto the sidewalk, but I had no time to enjoy the
beauty of the day.
I had a mission to accomplish.
A town car waited for me, the driver holding the door open. I slid inside and gave him the location.
My driver nodded and pulled away from the curb.
We drove through the streets of Chicago. I opened the window and let the warm breeze brush
through my hair. I felt my anxiety slowly start to dissipate.
The car stopped in front of the hotel, and I stepped out, walking into the lobby.
The smell of fresh wood and flowers filled my nostrils. The hotel was beautiful. Large crystal
chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the walls were covered in gold-laminate wallpaper.
I moved across the lobby to the grand staircase.
The restaurant was on the second floor. At the top of the staircase, there was a set of French doors
directly in front of me. My hand tightened into a fist as I opened one door.
The restaurant was bustling with people, the chattering of conversation and clinking of glasses
rising above the din. The scent of fresh pastas and garlic hung in the air, surrounded by the warm
aroma of spices and herbs. They decorated the tables with elegant white linens, surrounded by dark
wooden chairs with plush cushions. Tall, white candles flickered on each table, casting a romantic
glow across the room. I spotted Vitale and the Brunos at a table in the corner, and my stomach turned.
I swallowed a lump of nerves. Taking a breath, I straightened my posture and walked toward them.
“Ah, Vitale. Right on time,” Domenick said, motioning for me to take a seat.
I took a seat with Angeline and her parents, Pascal and Amanda Bruno.
My mind was racing, trying to think of a way out.
“Let’s get down to business,” Domenick said as he leaned back in his chair.
“Business? This is a joyous occasion of two young people coming together.” Pascal smiled at his
daughter.
Angeline stared at her plate, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. I suspected she wanted this
marriage as much as I did.
“Whatever you want to call it, Pascal. With this marriage comes more territory, for your family and
mine. When families like the Dratshevs try to move in and take over, they won’t get very far.” My
brother’s lips curled with his evil grin.
We had problems with the Dratshevs for a while. One of them kidnapped Domenick’s wife and tried
to blackmail our family with Elba’s wife.
They wanted to control Chicago, but we were here first.
Then they went behind our backs to the Brunos, and Domenick didn’t like that. He squashed it and
then stole the idea.
Now I was sitting at a table, discussing marriage with a Bruno.
I was about to open my mouth to start my plan when Angeline finally spoke. “No,” she said, so
faintly, I was surprised anyone heard.
But they did.
The table fell silent. My brother raised his brow. Amanda glared at her daughter. Pascal’s nostrils
flared as he turned his head. “What did you just say?”
“No, I will not marry Vitale.” Her voice grew louder as her bottom lip quivered.
“You will because I say you will.” Her father slammed his fist on the table, causing the table setting
to rattle.
Perhaps I wouldn’t need to enact my plan after all.
Her eyes narrowed, and she pushed back her shoulders. The woman was pretty, with curly brown
hair and bright blue eyes. But when she stood up for herself, she was stunning. In any other situation, I
would take her to my bed, but now wasn’t the time.
 She wasn’t worth the loss of freedom or control.
“I love someone else.” She stood and took a step back. “I will marry him, instead.”
Her father stood and leaned over the table. “Who is this dead man who would disrespect my
family?”
Domenick sat there watching the exchange. He knew well enough not to interrupt a father fighting
with his daughter.
But I wasn’t my brother.
“If she loves someone else, then I guess I’m not needed here.” I stood, and that’s when my brother
took over.
He got up and placed his hand on my shoulder. “You aren’t going anywhere. A deal is still on the
table. Just a minor disagreement that can easily be settled for the right price.”
“My heart isn’t for sale, Mr. Satriano.” Angeline stood tall with her chin in the air.
Domenick tilted his head. “You seem to think you know my brother. You do not or you wouldn’t be
so willing to go to him.”
Her eyes bounced between me and Domenick. “I am not willing to go to him. I just said I love
someone else—”
“I didn’t mean Vitale... I meant Luca.”
Her sapphire eyes widened. “How do you know about Luca?”
“I’m head of the Satriano family, sweetheart. I know everything.”
That was my moment to introduce my plan. I was going to put it off since Angeline surprised us all
with her announcement, but in case Domenick ended that affair, I had to play my card.
And I had to do it now.
“Speaking of loving someone else, I am already married. Her name is Emilia,” I lied and didn’t
even flinch.
I knew enough about Domenick that he would have his spies watching me. He was right; Domenick
knew everything—he had eyes and ears everywhere. What I had been doing the past few days was
making it look like I was getting married. Paying people off to get a quick marriage license, forging
signatures.
What gave me the idea was Emilia.
Despite being in a situation she could not win, Emilia still fought me. She was dirty and hungry, and
I suspected she had been hurt badly in life. Yet, she was like a wild animal, wanting to break free,
wanting back to her terrible life.
 That’s when I thought about my arranged marriage—something I thought I couldn’t get out of. Much
like Emilia, I wanted to claw my way back to my broken, but single, life.
Why not pretend that Emilia was my bride? Why not put in the works all the things I’d have to do to
get married, but not actually say I do?
I knew my brother’s spies would take note and relay the information back to him.
Domenick’s jaw tightened, and that’s when I knew he believed me.
“What the fuck are we doing here?” Pascal yelled at my brother. “Are you trying to trick us like you
did the Dratshevs?”
Domenick took a moment to breathe. I may have lied to save myself, but I wasn’t about to poke the
wounded beast.
I kept quiet and didn’t move.
“How could you do this to me?” Domenick’s voice was low and rumbled with a darkness that
caused a shiver down my spine.
“You gave me no choice.”
His dark eyes bore into mine, and I felt the anger as if it was a knife slicing into my soul. “You
always have a choice, Vitale. You do what I say, or you die.”
I had always done what my brother had said. Even when he told me to hunt Elba down, I did it
without question. But now, Elba’s words came back to me. He showed me that Domenick would do
anything for power and control, even if it meant hurting his own family.
“Then I guess I die,” I said and waited for Domenick to follow through on his promise.
 Chapter 8

milia
E Vitale never returned.
I stared at the door to the hotel room and pondered if I should risk it.
He was clever. Much more intelligent than the guys I dealt with on the streets. If one of them had
bought me, I would have been long gone by now. Back with my sister and scrounging for money for
food.
My tongue ran over my parched lips as my chin trembled. A desperate, hollow laugh tried to escape
my throat, an attempt to mask the cold sweat that had broken out on my skin. What if he was lurking on
the other side of the door, eagerly waiting for me to slip up? “I’m not afraid,” I muttered with a
trembling voice, trying to convince myself of the lie.
“Fuck it.” I mumbled and grabbed the doorknob, yanking the door open.
Silence awaited me. Peeking out, there wasn’t a single person in the hallway. My shoulders sank as
relief washed over me.
Reaching down, I grabbed the small bag I filled with the clothing he had delivered for me.
There was no way I’d leave good clothing behind. So what if I had to pack it up in a garbage bag?
That may turn a few heads in this fancy place, but I’d be gone soon enough.
Without hesitation, I scurried down the hallway and turned to the stairwell, avoiding the elevator. I
hoped I didn’t run into anyone like those two guys from last time.
As I descended the stairs, my heart still pounding in my chest, I couldn’t help but wonder about
Kassi. She had to be worried about me.
I sighed and made my way down. I was just turning to the third floor when I heard a door open. I
froze. My heart pounding in my chest.
 “What the fuck, Vitale?” a deep, bone-chilling voice rang out.
My eyes widened and I stepped back, pressing my back to the wall.
Vitale laughed, and my nipples hardened. Closing my eyes, I willed my body not to react to him.
Not now.
“Isn’t this what you wanted, big brother? To see me married. You got your wish.”
Vitale’s married? Oh, shit. No wonder he wanted to hide me in a hotel room. If I could find out who
his wife was, I bet I could get him to let me go. I could threaten him that I’d tell her.
“That wasn’t my wish.”
“Then kill me. Isn’t that what you said you were going to do?”
Oh, my god.
“Maybe. But I only said that to appease Pascal. Do you think I want to be associated with that
spoiled little monster?”
There was silence, and I had the urge to peer over the railing, but kept myself still.
“Monster? It’s the Brunos, Domenick. They don’t even have sway in Chicago,” Vitale said.
“There’s a reason I want to align with them. It’s not that Pascal has much power; it’s that he’s a
walking psychopath. If he decides he wants some of our territory, then he’ll come after us. And he’ll
take us down, one by one, when we least expect it.”
I swallowed. What sort of shit did Vitale do?
I blinked. Satriano. Oh my god, the mob.
My eyes widened. Vitale was a mobster. He killed those guys in the stairwell but I had no clue
that’s what he did for a living. I did some petty crime—stealing food, sucking cock for cash—but I
would never kill someone.
I had to get out of here and away from Vitale.
“So you wanted me to marry the psycho’s daughter?”
“Look, I first went to Iggy, but he disappeared on me. You know how he is.”
Who was Iggy? Ugh, I shouldn’t be here. If Vitale knew I was listening in on his conversation, he’d
kill me. And now that I knew he killed for a living, then I knew I wasn’t exaggerating.
“What about three days ago at the meeting? Luca was angry about the arrangement. Get him to marry
her.”
I was confused. Vitale said he was already married, but now he’s talking about his brother trying to
get him to marry into the Bruno family?
What was going on?
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
The Project Gutenberg eBook of The caravaners
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
you are located before using this eBook.

Title: The caravaners

Author: Elizabeth Von Arnim

Illustrator: Arthur Litle

Release date: December 8, 2023 [eBook #72356]

Language: English

Original publication: NY: Doubleday, Page & Company, 1910

Credits: Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at

https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
generously made available by The Internet Archive)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE

CARAVANERS ***
THE CARAVANERS
BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Elizabeth and Her German Garden

Adventures of Elizabeth in Rügen
Fräulein Schmidt and Mr. Anstruther
Princess Priscilla’s Fortnight
The Solitary Summer
The fitful flicker of the lanterns played over rapidly cooling eggs and grave faces
 THE CARAVANERS
BY THE AUTHOR OF
“ELIZABETH AND HER GERMAN GARDEN”

ILLUSTRATIONS BY ARTHUR LITLE

NEW YORK
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
1910

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION

INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN

COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY

 ILLUSTRATIONS
The fitful flicker of the lanterns played over rapidly cooling
eggs and grave faces Frontispiece
FACING PAGE
I never saw such little shoes 14
Edelgard most inconsiderately leaving me to bear the entire
burden of opening and shutting our things 38
The sun shone its hottest while we slowly surmounted this last
obstacle 50
It was an unnerving spectacle 80
“Dear Baron,” said she, “do you think it is wrong to carry
stew-pots?” 100
Thus, as it were, with blacking, did I cement my friendship
with Lord Sigismund 102
Edelgard posing—and what a pose; good heavens, what a
pose! 114
“But surely not here,” murmured Frau von Eckthum 124
The two nondescripts, who were passing, lingered to look 134
“But, lieber Otto, is it then my fault that you have forgotten the
paper?” 142
“Do you, Jellaby,” I then inquired, “really understand how best
to treat a sausage?” 182
“ ’Ere ’e is” 200
An imposing lady in the pew in front of us sat sideways in her
corner and examined us with calm attention 230
The old gentleman was in the act of addressing me in his turn 268
Gentle as my voice was, it yet made her start 294

THE CARAVANERS
 CHAPTER I

I N JUNE this year there were a few fine days, and we supposed the
summer had really come at last. The effect was to make us feel our flat
(which is really a very nice, well-planned one on the second floor at the
corner overlooking the cemetery, and not at all stuffy) but a dull place after
all, and think with something like longing of the country. It was the year of
the fifth anniversary of our wedding, and having decided to mark the
occasion by a trip abroad in the proper holiday season of August we could
not afford, neither did we desire, to spend money on trips into the country in
June. My wife, therefore, suggested that we should devote a few afternoons
to a series of short excursions within a radius of, say, from five to ten miles
round our town, and visit one after the other those of our acquaintances who
live near enough to Storchwerder and farm their own estates. “In this way,”
said she, “we shall get much fresh air at little cost.”
After a time I agreed. Not immediately, of course, for a reasonable man
will take care to consider the suggestions made by his wife from every point
of view before consenting to follow them or allowing her to follow them.
Women do not reason: they have instincts; and instincts would land them in
strange places sometimes if it were not that their husbands are there to
illuminate the path for them and behave, if one may so express it, as a kind
of guiding and very clever glow-worm. As for those who have not succeeded
in getting husbands, the flotsam and jetsam, so to speak, of their sex, all I
can say is, God help them.
There was nothing, however, to be advanced against Edelgard’s idea in
this case; on the contrary, there was much to commend it. We should get
fresh air; we should be fed (well fed, and, if we chose, to excess, but of
course we know how to be reasonable); and we should pay nothing. As
Major of the artillery regiment stationed at Storchwerder I am obliged
anyhow to keep a couple of horses (they are fed at the cost of the regiment),
and I also in the natural order of things have one of the men of my battalion
in my flat as servant and coachman, who costs me little more than his keep
and may not give me notice. All, then, that was wanting was a vehicle, and
we could, as Edelgard pointed out, easily borrow our Colonel’s wagonette
for a few afternoons, so there was our equipage complete, and without
spending a penny.
 The estates round Storchwerder are big and we found on counting up that
five calls would cover the entire circle of our country acquaintance. There
might have been a sixth, but for reasons with which I entirely concurred my
dear wife did not choose to include it. Lines have to be drawn, and I do not
think an altogether bad definition of a gentleman or a lady would be one who
draws them. Indeed, Edelgard was in some doubt as to whether there should
be even five, a member of the five (not in this case actually the land-owner
but the brother of the widowed lady owning it, who lives with her and looks
after her interests) being a person we neither of us can care much about,
because he is not only unsound politically, with a decided leaning
disgraceful in a man of his birth and which he hardly takes any trouble to
hide toward those views the middle classes and Socialist sort of people call
(God save the mark!) enlightened, but he is also either unable or unwilling—
Edelgard and I could never make up our minds which—to keep his sister in
order. Yet to keep the woman one is responsible for in order whether she be
sister, or wife, or mother, or daughter, or even under certain favourable
conditions aunt (a difficult race sometimes, as may be seen by the case of
Edelgard’s Aunt Bockhügel, of whom perhaps more later) is really quite
easy. It is only a question of beginning in time, as you mean to go on in fact,
and of being especially firm whenever you feel internally least so. It is so
easy that I never could understand the difficulty. It is so easy that when my
wife at this point brought me my eleven o’clock bread and ham and butter
and interrupted me by looking over my shoulder, I smiled up at her, my
thoughts still running on this theme, and taking the hand that put down the
plate said, “Is it not, dear wife?”
“Is what not?” she asked—rather stupidly I thought, for she had read
what I had written to the end; then without giving me time to reply she said,
“Are you not going to write the story of our experiences in England after all,
Otto?”
“Certainly,” said I.
“To lend round among our relations next winter?”
“Certainly,” said I.
“Then had you not better begin?”
“Dear wife,” said I, “it is what I am doing.”
“Then,” said she, “do not waste time going off the rails.”
 And sitting down in the window she resumed her work of enlarging the
armholes of my shirts.
This, I may remark, was tartness. Before she went to England she was
never tart. However, let me continue.
I wonder what she means by rails. (I shall revise all this, of course, and
no doubt will strike out portions) I wonder if she means I ought to begin
with my name and address. It seems unnecessary, for I am naturally as well
known to persons in Storchwerder as the postman. On the other hand this is
my first attempt (which explains why I wonder at all what Edelgard may or
may not mean, beginners doing well, I suppose, to be humble) at what poetic
and literary and other persons of bad form call, I believe, wooing the Muse.
What an expression! And I wonder what Muse. I would like to ask Edelgard
whether she—but no, it would almost seem as if I were seeking her advice,
which is a reversing of the proper relative positions of husband and wife. So
at this point, instead of adopting a course so easily disastrous, I turned my
head and said quietly:
“Dear wife, our English experiences did begin with our visits to the
neighbours. If it had not been for those visits we would probably not last
summer have seen Frau von Eckthum at all, and if we had not come within
reach of her persuasive tongue we would have gone on our silver wedding
journey to Italy or Switzerland, as we had so often planned, and left that
accursed island across the Channel alone.”
I paused; and as Edelgard said nothing, which is what she says when she
is unconvinced, I continued with the patience I always show her up to the
point at which it would become weakness, to explain the difference between
the exact and thorough methods of men, their liking for going to the root of a
matter and beginning at the real beginning, and the jumping tendencies of
women, who jump to things such as conclusions without paying the least
heed to all the important places they have passed over while they were, so to
speak, in the air.
“But we get there first,” said Edelgard.
I frowned a little. A few months ago—before, that is, our time on British
soil—she would not have made such a retort. She used never to retort, and
the harmony of our wedded life was consequently unclouded. I think she
saw me frown but she took no notice—another novelty in her behaviour; so,
after waiting a moment, I determined to continue the narrative.
 But before I go straight on with it I should like to explain why we, an
officer and his wife who naturally do not like spending money, should have
contemplated so costly a holiday as a trip abroad. The fact is, for a long time
past we had made up our minds to do so in the fifth year of our marriage,
and for the following reason: Before I married Edelgard I had been a
widower for one year, and before being a widower I was married for no
fewer than nineteen years. This sounds as though I must be old, but I need
not tell my readers who see me constantly that I am not. The best of all
witnesses are the eyes; also, I began my marrying unusually young. My first
wife was one of the Mecklenburg Lunewitzes, the elder (and infinitely
superior) branch. If she had lived, I would last year have been celebrating
our silver wedding on August 1st, and there would have been much feasting
and merry-making arranged for us, and many acceptable gifts in silver from
our relations, friends, and acquaintances. The regiment would have been
obliged to recognize it, and perhaps our two servants would have clubbed
together and expressed their devotion in a metal form. All this I feel I have
missed, and through no fault of my own. I fail to see why I should be
deprived of every benefit of such a celebration, for have I not, with an
interruption of twelve months forced upon me, been actually married
twenty-five years? And why, because my poor Marie-Luise was unable to go
on living, should I have to attain to the very high number of (practically) five
and twenty years’ matrimony without the least notice being taken of it? I had
been explaining this to Edelgard for a long time, and the nearer the date
drew on which in the natural order of things I would have been reaping a
silver harvest and have been put in a position to gauge the esteem in which I
was held, the more emphatic did I become. Edelgard seemed at first unable
to understand, but she was very teachable, and gradually found my logic
irresistible. Indeed, once she grasped the point she was even more strongly
of opinion than I was that something ought to be done to mark the occasion,
and quite saw that if Marie-Luise failed me it was not my fault, and that I at
least had done my part and gone on steadily being married ever since. From
recognizing this to being indignant that our friends would probably take no
notice of the anniversary was but, for her, a step; and many were the talks we
had together on the subject, and many the suggestions we both of us made
for bringing our friends round to our point of view. We finally decided that,
however much they might ignore it, we ourselves would do what was right,
and accordingly we planned a silver-honeymoon trip to the land proper to
romance, Italy, beginning it on the first of August, which was the date of my
marriage twenty-five years before with Marie-Luise.
I have gone into this matter at some length because I wished to explain
clearly to those of our relations who will have this lent to them why we
undertook a journey so, in the ordinary course of things, extravagant; and
having, I hope, done this satisfactorily, will now proceed with the narrative.
We borrowed the Colonel’s wagonette; I wrote five letters announcing
our visit and asking (a mere formality, of course) if it would be agreeable;
the answers arrived assuring us in every tone of well-bred enthusiasm that it
would; I donned my parade uniform; Edelgard put on her new summer
finery; we gave careful instructions to Clothilde, our cook, helping her to
carry them out by locking everything up; and off we started in holiday
spirits, driven by my orderly, Hermann, and watched by the whole street.
At each house we were received with becoming hospitality. They were all
families of our own standing, members of that chivalrous, God-fearing and
well-born band that upholds the best traditions of the Fatherland and gathers
in spirit if not (owing to circumstances) in body, like a protecting phalanx
around our Emperor’s throne. First we had coffee and cakes and a variety of
sandwiches (at one of the houses there were no sandwiches, only cakes, and
we both discussed this unaccountable omission during the drive home); then
I was taken to view the pigs by our host, or the cows, or whatever happened
to be his special pride, but in four cases out of the five it was pigs, and while
I was away Edelgard sat on the lawn or the terrace or wherever the family
usually sat (only one had a terrace) and conversed on subjects interesting to
women-folk, such as Clothilde and Hermann and I know not what; then,
after having thoroughly exhausted the pigs and been in my turn thoroughly
exhausted by them, for naturally a Prussian officer on active service cannot
be expected to take the same interest in these creatures so long as they are
raw as a man does who devotes his life to them, we rejoined the ladies and
strolled in the lighter talk suited to our listeners about the grounds,
endeavouring with our handkerchiefs to drive away the mosquitoes, till
summoned to supper; and after supper, which usually consisted of one
excellent hot dish and a variety of cold ones, preceded by bouillon in cups
and followed by some elegant sweet and beautiful fruit (except at Frau von
Eckthum’s, our local young widow’s, where it was a regular dinner of six or
seven courses, she being what is known as ultra-modern, her sister having
married an Englishman), after supper, I repeat, having sat a while smoking
on the lawn or terrace drinking coffee and liqueurs and secretly
congratulating ourselves on not having in our town to live with so many and
such hungry mosquitoes, we took our leave and drove back to Storchwerder,
refreshed always and sometimes pleased as well.
The last of these visits was to Frau von Eckthum and her brother Graf
Flitz von Flitzburg, who, as is well known, being himself unmarried, lives
with her and looks after the estate left by the deceased Eckthum, thereby
stepping into shoes so comfortable that they may more properly be spoken of
as slippers. All had gone well up to that, nor was I conscious till much later
that that had not gone well too; for only on looking back do we see the
distance we have come and the way in which the road, at first so promising,
led us before we knew where we were into a wilderness plentiful in stones.
During our first four visits we had naturally talked about our plan to take a
trip in August in Italy. Our friends, obviously surprised, and with the
expression on their faces that has its source in thoughts of legacies, first
enthusiastically applauded and then pointed out that it would be hot. August,
they said, would be an impossible month in Italy: go where we would we
should not meet a single German. This had not struck us before, and after
our first disappointment we willingly listened to their advice rather to choose
Switzerland, with its excellent hotels and crowds of our countrymen. Several
times in the course of these conversations did we try to explain the
honeymoon nature of the journey, but were met with so much of what I
strongly suspect to have been wilful obtuseness that to our chagrin we began
to see there was probably nothing to be done. Edelgard said she wished it
would occur to them if, owing to the unusual circumstances, they did not
intend to give us actual ash-trays and match-boxes, to join together in
defraying the cost of the wedding journey of such respectable silver-
honeymooners; but I do not think that at any time they had the least intention
of doing anything at all for us—on the contrary, they made us quite uneasy
by the sums they declared we would have to disburse; and on our last visit
(to Frau von Eckthum) happening to bewail the amount of good German
money that was going to be dragged out of us by the rascally Swiss, she
(Frau von Eckthum) said, “Why not come to England?”
At the moment I was so much engaged mentally reprobating the way in
which she was lying back in a low garden chair with one foot crossed over
the other and both feet encased in such thin stockings that they might just as
well not have been stockings at all, that I did not immediately notice the
otherwise striking expression, “Come.” “Go” would of course have been the
usual and expected form; but the substitution, I repeat, escaped me at the
moment because of my attention being otherwise engaged. I never

I never saw such little shoes

saw such little shoes. Has a woman a right to be conspicuous at the

extremities? So conspicuous—Frau von Eckthum’s hands also easily become
absorbing—that one is unable connectedly to follow the conversation? I
doubt it: but she is an attractive lady. There sat Edelgard, straight and
seemly, the perfect flower of a stricter type of virtuous German womanhood,
her feet properly placed side by side on the grass and clothed, as I knew, in
decent wool with the flat-heeled boots of the Christian gentlewoman, and I
must say the type—in one’s wife, that is—is preferable. I rather wondered
whether Flitz noticed the contrast between the two ladies. I glanced at him,
but his face was as usual a complete blank. I wondered whether he could or
could not make his sister sit up if he had wished to; and for the hundredth
time I felt I never could really like the man, for from the point of view of a
brother one’s sister should certainly sit up. She is, however, an attractive
lady: alas that her stockings should be so persistently thin.
“England,” I heard Edelgard saying, “is not, I think, a suitable place.”
It was then that I consciously noticed that Frau von Eckthum had said
“Come.”
“Why not?” she asked; and her simple way of asking questions, or
answering them with others of her own without waiting to adorn them or
round them off with the title of the person addressed, has helped, I know, to
make her unpopular in Storchwerder society.
“I have heard,” said Edelgard cautiously, no doubt bearing in mind that to
hosts whose sister had married an Englishman and was still living with him
one would not say all one would like to about it, “I have heard that it is not a
place to go to if the object is scenery.”
“Oh?” said Frau von Eckthum. Then she added—intelligently, I thought
—“But there always is scenery.”
“Edelgard means lofty scenery,” said I gently, for we were both holding
cups of the Eckthum tea (this was the only house in which we were made to
drink tea instead of our aromatic and far more filling national beverage) in
our hands, and I have always held one ought to humour the persons whose
hospitality one happens to be enjoying—“Or enduring,” said Edelgard
cleverly when, on our way home, I mentioned this to her.
“Or enduring,” I agreed after a slight pause, forced on reflection to see
that it is not true hospitality to oblige your visitors to go without their coffee
by employing the unworthy and barbarically simple expedient of not
allowing it to appear. But of course that was Flitz. He behaves, I think, much
too much as though the place belonged to him.
Flitz, who knows England well, having spent several years there at our
Embassy, said it was the most delightful country in the world. The
unpatriotic implication contained in this assertion caused Edelgard and
myself to exchange glances, and no doubt she was thinking, as I was, that it
would be a sad and bad day for Prussia if many of its gentleman had sisters
who made misguided marriages with foreigners, the foreign brother-in-law
being so often the thin end of that wedge which at its thick one is a denial of
our right to regard ourselves as specially raised by Almighty God to occupy
the first place among the nations, and a dislike (I have heard with my own
ears a man at a meeting express it) an actual dislike—I can only call it
hideous—of the glorious cement of blood and iron by means of which we
intend to stick there.
“But I was chiefly thinking,” said Frau von Eckthum, her head well back
in the cushions and her eyes fixed pensively on the summer clouds sailing
over our heads, “of what you were saying about expense.”
“Dear lady,” I said, “I have been told by all who have done it that
travelling in England is the most expensive holiday you can take. The hotels
are ruinous as well as bad, the meals are uneatable as well as dear, the cabs
cost you a fortune, and the inhabitants are rude.”
I spoke with heat, because I was roused (justly) by Flitz’s unpatriotic
attitude, but it was a tempered heat owing to the undoubted (Storchwerder
cannot deny it) personal attractiveness of our hostess. Why are not all
women attractive? What habitual lambs our sex would become if they were.
“Dear Baron,” said she in her pretty, gentle voice, “do come over and see
for yourself. I would like, I think, to convert you. Look at this”—she picked
up some papers lying on the grass by her chair, and spreading out one
showed me a picture—“do you not think it nice? And, if you want to be
economical, it only costs fourteen pounds for a whole month.”
The picture she held out to me was one bearing a strong resemblance to
the gipsy carts that are continually (and very rightly) being sent somewhere
else by our local police; a little less gaudy perhaps, a little squarer and more
solid, but undoubtedly a near relation.
“It is a caravan,” said Frau von Eckthum, in answer to the question
contained in my eyebrows; and turning the sheet she showed me another
picture representing the same vehicle’s inside.
Edelgard got up and looked over my shoulder.
What we saw was certainly very nice. Edelgard said so at once. There
were flowered curtains, and a shelf with books, and a comfortable chair with
a cushion near a big window, and at the end two pretty beds placed one
above the other as in a ship.
“A thing like this,” said Frau von Eckthum, “does away at once with
hotels, waiters, and expense. It costs fourteen pounds for two persons for a
whole month, and all your days are spent in the sun.”
She then explained her plan, which was to hire one of these vehicles for
the month of August and lead a completely free and bohemian existence
during that time, wandering through the English lanes, which she described
as flowery, and drawing up for the night in a secluded spot near some little
streamlet, to the music of whose gentle rippling, as Edelgard always easily
inclined to sentiment suggested, she would probably be lulled to sleep.
“Come too,” said she, smiling up at us as we looked over her shoulder.
“Two hundred and eighty marks is fourteen pounds,” said I, making
mental calculations.
“For two people,” said Edelgard, obviously doing the same.
“No hotels,” said our hostess.
“No hotels,” echoed Edelgard.
“Only lovely green fields,” said our hostess.
“And no waiters,” said Edelgard.
“Yes, no horrid waiters,” said our hostess.
“Waiters are so expensive,” said Edelgard.
“You wouldn’t see one,” said our hostess. “Only a nice child in a clean
apron from a farm bringing eggs and cream. And you move about the whole
time, and see the country in a way you never would going from place to
place by train.”
“But,” said I shrewdly, “if we move about something must either pull or
push us, and that something must also be paid for.”
“Oh, yes, there has to be a horse. But think of all the railway tickets you
won’t buy and all the porters you won’t tip,” said Frau von Eckthum.
Edelgard was manifestly impressed. Indeed, we both were. If it were a
question of being in England for little money or being in Switzerland for
much we felt unanimously that it was better to be in England. And then to
travel through it in one of these conveyances was so distinctly original that
we would be objects of the liveliest interest during the succeeding winter
gaieties in Storchwerder. “The von Ottringels are certainly all that is most
modern,” we could already hear our friends saying to each other, and could
already see in our mind’s eye how they would press round us at soirées and
bombard us with questions. We should be the centre of attraction.
“And think of the nightingales!” cried Edelgard, suddenly recollecting
those poetic birds.
“In August they’re like Germans in Italy,” said Flitz, to whom I had
mentioned our reason for giving up the idea of travelling in that country.
 “How so?” said Edelgard, turning to him with the slight instinctive
stiffening of every really virtuous German lady when speaking to an
unrelated (by blood) man.
“They’re not there,” said Flitz.
Well, of course the moment we were able to look in our Encyclopædia at
home we knew as well as he did that they do not sing in August, but I do not
see how townsfolk are to keep these odds and ends of information lying
loose about in their heads. We do not have the bird in Storchwerder and are
therefore unable to study its habits at first hand as Flitz can, but I know that
all the pieces of poetry I have come across mention nightingales before they
have done, and the consequent perfectly natural impression left on my mind
was that they were always more or less about. But I do not like Flitz’s tone,
and never shall. It is true I have not actually seen him do it, but one feels
instinctively that he is laughing at one; and there are different ways of
laughing, and not all of them appear on the face. As for politics, if I were not
as an officer debarred from alluding to them and were led to discuss them
with him, I have no doubt that each discussion would end in a duel. That is,
if he would fight. The appalling suspicion has just crossed my mind that he
would not. He is one of those dreadful persons who cloak their cowardice
behind the garb of philosophy. Well, well, I see I am growing angry with a
man ten miles away, whom I have not seen for months—I, a man of the
world sitting in the calm of my own flat, surrounded by quiet domestic
objects such as my wife, my shirt, and my little meal of bread and ham. Is
this reasonable? Certainly not. Let me change the subject.
The long, then, and the short of our visit to Graf Flitz and his sister in
June last was that we returned home determined to join Frau von Eckthum’s
party, and not a little full of pleasurable anticipations. When she does talk
she has a persuasive tongue. She talked more at this time than she ever did
afterward, but of course there were reasons for that which I may or may not
disclose. Edelgard listened with something like rapt interest to her really
picturesque descriptions, or rather prophecies, for she had not herself done it
before, of the pleasures of camp life; and I wish it to be clearly understood
that Edelgard, who has since taken the line of telling people it was I, was the
one who was swept off her usually cautious feet and who took it upon
herself without waiting for me to speak to ask Frau von Eckthum to write
and hire another of the carts for us.
 Frau von Eckthum laughed, and said she was sure we would like it. Flitz
himself smoked in silence. And Edelgard developed a sudden eloquence in
regard to natural phenomena such as moons and poppies that would have
done credit to a young and sentimental girl. “Think of sitting in the shade of
some mighty beech tree,” she said, for instance (she actually clasped her
hands), “with the beams of the sinking sun slanting through its branches, and
doing one’s needlework.”
And she said other things of the same sort, things that made me, who
knew she was going to be thirty next birthday, gaze upon her with a deep
surprise.