Page 104 of Broken Honor
I hear the shift of fabric as he turns toward his wife.
“The phone,” he demands.
The woman flinches. She hands him the phone with a trembling hand, but never takes her gaze off me.
He dials lazily, tapping his fingers against the screen.
When the call connects, he smiles.
“Yes, this is Lapo. It’s me. I took your girl,” he says, sipping from his cup like he’s reporting a minor inconvenience. “You took my man and roughed him up. I didn’t appreciate that.”
There’s a pause. His eyes flick to me, gleaming.
“I’m afraid I’m a traditional man, Vieri. Eye for an eye. Unless...” He draws out the word, savoring it. “Unless you’re ready to be generous. Those ports of yours are looking ripe. A man could retire off one of those.”
He pauses and listens to the line and then he holds the phone out to me, presses a button, and the speaker clicks on.
“Talk,” he says. No answer comes from me.
His voice sharpens. “Speak, you dirty—”
“Lunetta,” Vieri’s voice cuts through the crackle of the speaker, calm and low. “Are you there?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Yes,” I answer.
“Are you hurt?”
Lapo’s grin widens as he looks at me, enjoying the power he holds like a child pulling the wings off a butterfly.
“Nothing too serious,” I reply under my breath.
“Okay,” Vieri answers, a pause hanging between his word and the static.
Lapo takes the phone back. “I’m waiting,” he says, then tosses it toward one of his men like it’s a used napkin.
He turns toward his wife and me. His eyes rake over my body.
“I wish you looked more like her,” he says to his wife, gesturing at my face and chest like they’re part of a catalog. “She’s got a real set on her. The more I look, the more I wonder what Vieri’s getting that I’m not.”
His gaze returns to me.
“When he dumps you—and let’s not pretend that’s not coming—I’ll throw you five hundred a week. You know, weekend company. You’d be good for that.”
My jaw stays firm.
“You’re quiet,” Lapo murmurs. “Maybe you’re one of those silent types. That could work for me.”
He stretches, yawns exaggeratedly.
“Brush your teeth,” he says to his wife, “and come find me. Suck my dick till some action begins.”
The woman doesn’t move.
He snaps his fingers.
“Now,” he says, walking off.
She jolts, then turns to go. But just before she leaves, she glances at me again.
