Chapter 6 Untitled Chapter

Two hours felt like minutes.

Carmella stood in the center of the room, staring at the closet full of dresses. She was furious. He wanted her dressed up like his little trophy? Like a doll he could dress up for dinner?

Well, fuck him if he thought he was going to get his way. He thought wrong.

When the door opened this time, she was waiting by the armchair, her arms crossed.

Two guards stepped in. They looked ready for a fight, then froze when they saw her.

Carmella hadn't touched the closet. She was standing there in the same black lace bra and thin panties from the club.

“The Don is waiting," one guard said. He dropped his gaze to the floor instantly.

"Then take me to him," Carmella said, lifting her chin. "Unless you want to carry me?"

The guards didn't touch her. They just stepped back and cleared a path. She walked barefoot down the grand staircase, taking mental notes. Every door. Every window. Every security keypad.

Three exits on the main floor. Heavy iron frames with  high security.

When they reached the dining hall, the guards pushed open two massive double doors.

The dining room had a long table with silver dishes, fresh bread, and rich wine. At the head sat Salvatore. He was pouring a glass of red wine, looking arrogant as usual.

Sitting to his right was another man, probably in his thirties like Salvatore. When she walked in, the two of them had been in a deep conversation, and she had heard Salvatore call him Vito.

He had dark hair and grey eyes. He wasn't looking at her yet, but he knew she was there. She could tell by the way his shoulders shifted.

Salvatore set the glass down with a soft clink and turned his head to look at her.

His gaze dropped from her face down to her exposed waist, her long bare legs, and the thin strips of black lace. The calm look on his face completely disappeared. He looked furious.

The guards around them immediately looked away. They knew better than to stare at the Don's woman.

"Out," Salvatore said "Everyone out."

The guards scrambled. The doors slammed shut behind them.

Only Vito remained. He was eating his food, paying no mind to her. From his behavior, she knew he must be someone in power too, and probably a close friend of Salvatore's.

He stood up.

"What the hell are you wearing?" he growled, walking around the table toward her.

"What does it look like?" Carmella took a slow step forward, letting her hips sway to put on a show. "You told me to get dressed. I decided I liked what I had on."

Salvatore stopped a foot away, glaring down at her.

"You walk into my dining room half-naked," he said through gritted teeth.

"You don't like it?" she said sarcastically. "Let me go home and get a coat."

He was furious. She fed off it.

Carmella bypassed him completely, walking to the table and pulling out a chair right beside Vito. She sat down.

"Vito, right?" She looked over at him with a smile. "Don't be shy. A handsome man like you makes great company.

Vito met her eyes. He just studied her, looking amused, like she was a puzzle he was already solving.

"Miss Russo," he said. "You're playing a dangerous game."

She sat down at the table and reached out, cutting off a piece of steak. Her shoulder brushed Salvatore's sleeve as he stood beside her.

"Oh, come on," she said, looking over at Vito with a smile. "Salvatore here is so gloomy. You look like the only guy in this place with an actual personality. Do you always let him tell you what to do?"

The air in the room grew heavy.

Salvatore was at her side in two long strides.

His hand slammed down on the table beside her plate. The crystal glasses rattled.

"Vito." Salvatore called.

As if on cue, Vito stood up. He took one last look at Carmella, then turned to Salvatore. Their eyes met for a brief moment an unspoken understanding passing between them.

Vito shook his head. "You've got yourself a handful, Morello. This one's a lot to manage."

Then he turned and walked out.

Carmella paid no mind to Salvatore. She popped the steak into her mouth, chewing slowly while staring up at Salvatore's furious face.

Carmella's heart was racing, but she forced herself to stay still.

Salvatore turned to her. He pulled a knife out of the table. Held it up. Turned it in his hand.

"You want to play games?" He ran his thumb along the blade. "Fine. Let's play."

Carmella didn't flinch. She popped the steak into her mouth, chewing slowly while staring up at Salvatore's furious face.

"You're embarrassing yourself," she said. "Getting this worked up over a little eye contact? I thought mafia bosses were supposed to have self control."

Salvatore leaned down. Trapping her between his body and the table.

"You think if you push me far enough, I'll get frustrated and send you back?"

"You're a sick, pathetic stalker who needs iron bars to keep a woman. But I guarantee you one thing."

She leaned closer.

"I am going to make every single second you keep me here a living hell. I will touch every man in your guard. I will break every rule you set. And I will never ever give you a second of peace."

Salvatore’s jaw tightened. His hand slid into her hair, gripping it firmly.

"I know what you're doing," he said. "It won't work."

How did he catch on? She thought if she frustrated him enough, he would let her go.

He stared into her eyes, searching her face.

Then a smile spread across his lips.

"Good," he murmured. "I was worried you'd make this boring."

He released her hair and straightened up, smoothing down his jacket.

"Eat your food. Build up your strength. You're going to need it here."

He turned and walked toward the doors, pausing at the threshold.

"And put on some damn clothes before breakfast. Unless you want me to dress you myself."

He walked out.

Carmella sat alone at the table in her lace underwear, clutching her fork so tight her knuckles almost turned white.

She took another bite of her food. Her mind already racing toward her next move.

He thought he was winning.

But she was going to burn his fortress to the ground.