Iâve never seen a building quite like it before.
One instant, weâre driving down a residential street lined with classy red-brick townhouses, and the next, weâve turned a corner onto the Twilight Zone.
âThatâs where weâre going?â Aiden and I havenât talked much during our trip into the city. On the helicopter, it was too loud. In the back of the limo, itâs been too quiet. But curiosity gets the better of me.
âYes. Thatâs Calligastaroâs.â
The building looks like the fever dream of a modern-day witch. Barbed wire fences border an elegant amalgamation of stacked brick stories that rises up far above everything else in the surrounding area. Itâs almost too fantastical to be real. A fairytale palace, New York- style, gritty yet somehow dignified and almost magical. If there was another princess stuck up on the top floor somewhere, I wouldnât be surprised.
âWhat is it?â I ask as our car pulls up out front. Iâm still flabbergasted. Men in dark blue guard uniforms wait out front, armed with automatic weapons and draped in Kevlar. Silhouettes of watchtowers dot the horizon. In a stark contrast, a long graceful red carpet unfurls at our feet, showing the way inside.
âItâs a mafia prison,â Aiden explains. His tone is still flat and focused. Right now, itâs clear that Iâm not the object of his desire. Victory is.
âDoes that mean itâs for mafia members or run by them?â
âBoth.â
My nerves stir when the front gate is unlocked for us. The screeching metal fills the air and crawls beneath my pebbled skin. Despite his coldness, I squeeze Aidenâs hand a little tighter. This place is a far cry from my gilded cage.
At least, it is until weâve managed to pass through the initial barrage of cement tunnels and steel-barred fences.
In a subtle transition, the deeper we venture into the strange maze, the warmer it becomes. The harsh fluorescent lights of the front give way to a warmer yellow. The frigid cement becomes finished wood. The blank grey walls become painted with soft colors and eventually adorned with paintings of all types.
Soon enough, we find ourselves in a kind of lobby. Ahead, at a tall set of doors, stand men in police uniforms. They nod reverentially and open up the doors for us as we approach.
Hand in hand, Aiden and I enter a cavernous old-timey theater. Ahead, ceiling high curtains are parted so that the stage is on full display. Below that is an open space where people mingle. Servers dart through the crowd with plates of appetizers and hearty laughs rise up from the chatter.
The place is packed.
My heart clenches and my nerves go rigid. I havenât been around this many people in a long time, if ever. Itâs overwhelming.
Again, I hold Aiden tighter, wrapping myself around his arm. The sensory overload is about to make me dig my face into his shoulder, just to block it all out. But then, I see him.
Father.
Through the crowd, at the far end of the room, is the man who raised me, and the man who sold me.
His stare burns through the ether. Big black bags droop under his red eyes. He looks like heâs been through hell and back.
Aiden seems to see him too, because he quickly steps between the two of us, blocking me off from view. âIf you do as I say, I will let you talk to him before the night is through. Understand?â
All I can do is nod.
Before Aiden can continue with his instructions, another older man I recognize walks up to us. Aidenâs father.
My dateâs mood immediately brightens. âDad. I see youâre enjoying retirement,â he jokes, gesturing towards the nearly empty glass of wine in Mr. Kilpatrickâs hand.
âNothing to do but drink and keep tabs on my boys,â he smiles. Itâs strange watching the ease in which they converse. The last I saw them together, they were two steel curtains, remorselessly tearing me away from everything I had ever known.
âYou look wonderful tonight, darling,â Mr. Kilpatrick says. His compliment is warm and without pretense. He even dips his head ever so slightly. Itâs such a far cry from how I was treated during our first encounter that I almost feel like shedding a tear. But it wouldnât be a tear of gratitude. Frustrating confusion threatens to push me overboard.
âThank you,â I croak, almost in a whisper.
âAre Nolan and Shane here?â Aiden asks.
Before Mr. Kilpatrick can answer, heâs accosted by the two men in question. Iâve never met them, but itâs immediately clear that these two are Aidenâs brothers. They all share a similar body type, broad but athletic, and though their hair is all different colors, they wear it much the same way, wild and wavy.
âEasy there, boys,â Mr. Kilpatrick chuckles. âIâm getting too old for your rough-housing.â
Sure enough, they stop. But it might have less to do with their fatherâs words and more to do with me. Aidenâs two brothers have quickly forgotten about their father. They crowd around Aiden and me.
Itâs a sensory overload. Iâm not from a big family. Trying to âliveâ with Aiden has already been enough of a struggle, even without all of the extra baggage.
âHey there, Elisa.â The tallest brother offers me a hand in greeting. The other eyes me suspiciously as I reach out to take it. âItâs nice to finally meet you.â
Aiden smacks both of our hands away. âFocus. You can get to know her later. Weâre not here for a good time, remember.â
Itâs easy to tell that Aidenâs the oldest. Heâs in control and when he tells them what to do, they listen. Still, theyâre brothers, and one of them canât help but push his luck. âIsnât he a tease?â he taunts. âAlways talking about this princess of his, but never letting anyone see her.â
âShane, I said thatâs enough.â Aidenâs tone is harsh and commanding. Shane takes note and gives me a little wink before taking a step back. If thatâs Shane, then the other brother must be Nolan. Aiden has mentioned his brothers in passing before, but the idea that heâs actively talking about me when heâs with them is such a startling thought that I lose sense of myself for a second.
And here I thought I was supposed to be a dirty secret, only to be brought before the world for a specific purpose. Revenge.
But it sounds like Aiden talks about me in his free time. I wonder what he says? It canât be all bad, because, despite a few glances of curious suspicion, neither brother appears hostile. It hardly even feels like Iâm the enemyâs daughter. The sense Iâm getting is that they see me as more of their brotherâs date.
That seems like a good sign. Because if they see me that way, then itâs almost certainly because Aiden is framing it like that.
I look up at the mysterious prince on my arm and try to figure him out. But heâs impossible.
With a wave of Aidenâs hand, the Kilpatrick clan disperses. Weâre not left alone for long before someone else takes up the real estate directly in front of us.
âDon Kilpatrick, so nice to see you and your lovely bride,â the older Italian man looks oddly familiar. I wouldnât be surprised if I had seen him at one of the events my father had taken me to when I was younger. Heâs just the type.
âLeo,â Aiden nods, his voice deepening. âI trust youâve met Elisa DâIgnoti before.â
âAh yes, she was much younger, but not nearly as beautiful.â It looks like Leo is about to reach for my hand before thinking better of it. Aiden seems to notice this too, because his bicep flexes like heâs making a fist. I realize that Iâm still holding on tight to his arm.
I let my grip ease a little as Leo and Aiden talk. Instead of listening in, I search for my father again. Heâs not in the same spot as before. Where are you?
I still havenât spotted him when Aiden tugs at me. âAre you hungry?â he asks.
âNo.â
âThirsty?â
I shake my head. My eyes wonât stop scanning the room for Father. Aiden is as perceptive as ever. âAfter you see him, heâs going straight back to his cell. Understand?â
âYes. Can I see him?â
Despite the horror stories that Iâve been hearing about him, despite the image I have in my head of him being mangled and twisted nearly beyond recognition, despite my own ebb and flow of hate towards the man for selling me, the moment I saw him, I desperately wanted to talk to my daddy.
Aiden squeezes my hand and pulls me through the crowd, towards the spot I saw Father in just moments ago. The people instinctively part for us and a wake of hushed whispers follows behind us.
Itâs all very strange. Aiden didnât explain what kind of event this was, he just told me that it was important. I assumed that the important part was to taunt my father, but now, Iâm not so sure.
Who are all these people? Why have they gathered at this odd building? I wasnât in the right state of mind to ask on the way here, but now all I want is a distraction.
What am I even going to say to Father?
âYou have five minutes. Both of you will be searched afterwards. Donât betray me, Elisa.â Aiden kisses me, his lips warmer than they were earlier, but the passion still isnât quite there. This isnât a kiss of passion, itâs a message. But this time, the message isnât for me.
When Aiden releases me, we share one last look, then he taps me on the ass. I turn around and his presence vanishes from behind me.
Now, Father stands before my very eyes.
âElisa!â his voice is still that deep baritone, but itâs creaky and broken. When he reaches for a hug, his shackles rattle.
âDaddy!â We embrace and hot tears carve through my cheeks. Heâs thinner than I remember but thereâs a tightness to his hug that is stronger than ever.
âHas he hurt you?â Those are the next words out of his cracked lips. Thereâs no concern for his own destitution.
âNo,â I lie. The truth is, Aiden has hurt me in many ways, but heâs also healed me in others. The complicated reality of our relationship feels too heavy to explain right now. âAre you alright?â
âIâm doing better now,â Fatherâs smile was always a rare sight, but itâs on full display. Still, it falters as he scans me for signs of injury. âYou look well.â Itâs almost as if heâs disappointed. A small wave of shame crashes against my cheeks as I wonder what he must think of me. Clearly, if Iâm not starved and broken, I must be giving into Aidenâs demands, whatever they may be.
âIt hasnât been so bad,â I whisper.
âBullshit,â Father sneers. âDonât lie to me, Elisa. That man is a savage beast and what heâs doing to you isnât right!â His words are loud enough that I worry, but when I look back over my shoulder, I see that a half-circle of guards stands watch around us, giving a large girth between our conversation and the crowd beyond.
âItâs not right,â I agree. Suddenly, a ball of fury appears in my chest. âSo, why did you let him do it?
That wipes the sneer off of my fatherâs face. The life drains from him and he looks as gaunt as ever. âI had no choice, Elisa. It was that or lose everything.â
âIt looks like youâve lost everything anyway.â
Father shakes his head. âIt may seem dark right now, but as long as Iâm alive, there is hope.â He steps in close and quiets his voice for this next part. âIâm working on getting you away from him.â
The claim makes my heart spin. Iâd given up all hope of an outside rescue. âHow?â I ask, then a more important question arises. âWhoâs helping you?â I only want to hear one name.
âFelix has never given up on you, Elisa. And neither have I.â
The fact that heâs alive makes my head light with relief. âHow much longer?â Itâs a question I just have to ask.
Fatherâs gaze grows less caring and more ruthless. The powerful man I remember from my childhood quietly seeps back behind those sunken eyes. âWe know where heâs keeping you. Out in those blasted hills. But a small army keeps watch, night and day. Thereâs no way to sneak in. Weâre still trying to gather enough men to make a fight of it. But for nowââ
âI know a way in.â
The confession floats from my lips in between breaths, barely a whisper. Itâs so quiet that Iâm not sure I even said it until Father places a shackled hand on my shoulder. His cold fingers squeeze into my skin, but I pull away. If Aiden is watching then Iâm sure heâs looking for any excuse to break up this meeting.
âWhat do you mean, darling?â Fatherâs voice grows desperate.
Guilt and hope and anger and sorrow swirl around in my stomach. Part of me doesnât want to continue, but another part of me knows that thereâs no happy ending with Aiden. No matter how sweet his words can taste, Iâll always be his captive. His property. Heâs made that clear enough by bringing me here tonight. Itâs obvious that Iâm still a pawn to him, a captured princess to show off as a reminder of what happens to those who cross him.
But heâs also letting me talk to Father.
Why?
Because he trusts me.
I donât know if I can betray that trust. Itâs a double edge sword that twirls wildly in my gut, slicing at the knots that tie me up tight with uncertainty.
âElisaâ¦â Father is practically begging. When I look into his eyes, I donât see the ruthlessness anymore. Just a chained-up old man.
All the men in my life are contradictions. Aiden and my father both cross back and forth between light and darkness whenever it suits them. So, who do I trust?
âThere are tunnels,â I whisper, shame burning through my cheeks.
I can only trust myself. Right now, something inside of me is telling me to talk. To at least give myself the option of freedom in the future.
âWhere!?â
âIn the forest, thereâs a pale tree not far from the mansion. Beneath it is a latch that leans to an underground tunnel system. Aiden doesnât know. I havenât seen it yet, but Iâve been told by someone I trust. If Iâm going to escape, itâs through there.â
âHow do we get into the tunnels from the outside?â Father asks, stepping forward. I step backwards, more out of instinct than anything. Aiden will tear us apart if Father gets too close again.
âI⦠I donât know.â Tara hasnât told me that part yet.
âElisa DâIgnoti, tell me this instant!â That old commanding tone of his threatens to turn me back into the innocent little girl I once was. But that part of me is lost now. He canât boss me around so easily.
âI donât know,â I repeat. This time, Iâm the one who steps forward. âIâve told you what I know, Father. If it isnât enough, then maybe you wonât be the one who saves me.â
He looks taken aback by my candor. âIf not me, then who?â
âMaybe Iâll rescue myself⦠Or maybe I donât need rescuing.â
I can practically see the fumes billowing out from my fatherâs ears. âWhat has he done to you, my sweet daughter? Youâve changed. Do not let yourself fall for the devil!â
âIâm not falling for anyone!â I lie. âBut Aiden isnât as bad as youââ
âHeâs a filthy savage!â Fatherâs face contorts with disgust. He raises a shackled hand and points a stern finger over my shoulder to the floor behind us. âLet me pull the curtain back for you, Elisa. Look at all these men. Do you see them? They are powerful and connected and experienced. They each run their own little underworld empires with iron fists and zero mercy. No one tells them what to do, especially not their wives. Yet here they are, each with one on their arms. And you know what? Itâs all for show. Every single one of them cheats. Lies. Steals. Do not be fooled into thinking Aiden Kilpatrick is any different. Heâs the worst of them all. Men like him cannot care for anyone but themselves. They cannot love. He will never see you as anything more than his property. Understand.â Rage seethes out from my fatherâs flared nostrils. When his chains become too heavy, he lowers his hand and stands up, straight and proud. âI do not like what you are becoming, dear daughter. We will have to remind you of your position once you are home.â
Home.
When Father says home, I donât think of the gilded cage he raised me in. Instead, Aidenâs manor flashes behind my eyes. I think of all the time Iâve spent alone there. Where does Aiden go when he leaves? He says work, but my father seems so sure that he could never be faithful. Is he telling the truth about all these rich and powerful men?
Hot tears well up in my eyes, but I wipe them away.
âDid you cheat on mom?â I ask, the thought suddenly popping into my head. Father was once rich and powerful, just like all of these men who he accuses. I hardly care that Iâm overstepping my bounds. I need to know if I can trust my father in the same way that Aiden is making me trust him.
âI never had to.â
âWhat does that mean? What happened to her?â Iâve never gotten a straight answer. But now it feels like I canât go another second without knowing. At least Aiden has his garden, what do I have but emptiness?
âNow is not the time, Elisa.â
âThen when is?â
âWhen I say so!â There it is again. The monstrous side that lurks in all men. But is Father really as bad as Aiden says? Or is Aiden the liar and the cheat?
Thereâs another way to find out.
âTell me what you did to Aiden, Father. Tell me why he hates you so much.â Iâm becoming bolder. A seed of doubt has been planted in my gut. Both of these men are cut of the same cloth. They will lie to get what they want. And they both want me.
But who wants whatâs best for me?
Father doesnât immediately answer. Instead, his gaze wanders over my shoulder. His posture slackens and his eyes become quick with worry and I know that our meeting is about to come to an end. Aiden is approaching. I wonât get any of the answers I crave, and I definitely wonât get any comfort. This definitely wasnât the sweet reunion I was hoping for, but nothing is ever sweet and perfect in my life.
âFather, Iââ I suddenly want to apologize for being so forward. I want to say that Iâll be alright, that Iâll figure this out on my own. But he stops me before I can continue.
âFelix may have found a mole in the Kilpatrick clan,â he hisses. A hole bursts through my chest as he reaches out and pulls me close by the shoulders. Heâs forceful enough that I feel one of my straps tear under his long grip.
It hardly registers. This was the last thing I was expecting him to say. Aiden commands total loyalty.
Airy kisses brush against my hot cheeks as Father pretends to say an Italian goodbye. Instead, he rapidly whispers a secret into each ear. âWhen you have an opening to leave, look behind the plaque in Bree Kilpatrickâs garden. If Felix has succeeded, there should already be something waiting for you there. Something you can use to send a signal when you are ready. Youâre not lost yet, Elisa, and Iâll be damned if Iâm going to let that man drag you down to hell with him.â
An instant later, Father is tugged backwards and a set of familiar hands fall onto my shoulders. Iâm turned around to face my date. Aidenâs green eyes are steely and merciless. âThatâs enough, princess.â
I look back over my shoulder, desperate for one more look at my father. His chains rattle as heâs dragged away into the darkness, eyes pleading with me to make the right choice.
I donât know if Iâll ever see him again.