“Vinny,” the woman says softly.
“I’ve missed you...”Possession.It all but drips through the speakers and forms a noose around the woman’s neck, tightening with every octave the voice lowers. “Tell me that this call means that those...monsters will let you come home.” He’s taunting her; the fucker knows damn well who the real monster is.
“No.” Hazel eyes home in on mine and never look away.
I know that expression. As long as she can’t picture his face, she’s fine—it’s the same tactic a child uses to ignore the monster under the bed.
“I don’t think I’ll be coming back any time soon, Vinny.”
Stacatto chuckles into the phone. “I received your present, Lynn.” The bittersweet tone suddenly gives way to a harsher growl. “That was mymother’sring.”
The woman swallows hard, and her feet leave the rung of the stool to kick at the air. “I...I just gave you what you wanted, Vinny,” she croaks. “My humiliation. Isn’t that right?”
He barks another harsh bit of laughter, but it’s colder than before. “I’ve only ever wanted your loyalty, Lynn. Your respect. Your fidelity. But do not fear... One day, I willearnthose things from you.”
“Never,” she says, and just like for the camera, the woman flips her switch. Her eyes still won’t leave mine, but I don’t recognize the creature staring out from them anymore. “I’m never coming back. You will never own me again.Never.”
“Is that so?” Stacatto seems to mull her declaration over the same way one might a silly request from a naughty child who doesn’t know any better. “I’ve sent you a present of my own,” he adds, changing the subject. “Have they given it to you yet?”
I glance over at Mack, who shrugs.
“They haven’t,” Stacatto murmurs, and if his voice could hold anything resembling a human emotion, it might be...glee. “Show it to her, you motherfuckers. I know you’re listening in. And, Lynn...” The sound from the other end changes. He’s holding the receiver closer. I wouldn’t be surprised if his fingers were stroking the back of it and he were imagining them caressing the fragile line of her throat. “I love you,Mi Bella. This has changed nothing between us, and when I find you...I will make you understand.”
He cuts off his end, and the sound makes the woman slump against the counter. Her face never changes though. Her mask remains firmly in place, but it’s cracking at the edges. When she looks at Mack, I can already see the dread she’s struggling to hide underneath it.
“What did he send?”
Mack rubs his chin thoughtfully. If his opinion of her has changed after the little telephone conference, he doesn’t reveal it. “A rather entertaining video,” he says. “But it’s not exactly...suitable for a lady.”
“Show me it.” Her haughty tone cracks like a whip, but Mack doesn’t seem to mind the sting.
He grins, licking his lips. Then he stands and crosses over to her, reaching for the phone. “I’m merely obeying the lady’s request, Dante,” he snaps, his shoulders tensing just enough to warn anyone stupid enough to creep up on him that he’s ready to fight.
Only now do I realize that I’m already standing between him and the girl, forcing him to reach around me to fiddle with the phone’s screen. I don’t look back at her, but I can sense her stiffen; she’s uneasy by how close I am. The little bitch can only tolerate me when she’s being fucked, I guess.
“It’s in rather poor taste,” Mack admits as he slides the phone in her direction again and steps back. “I would have chosen better lighting.”
My eyes travel to the screen at the same time she sits forward, her bound hair falling over one shoulder. The grainy display of a video appears. As Mack said, the lighting sucks. Through the shadows of what appears to be a small room, it’s only possible to make out a woman braced against a floor on her hands and knees. Red hair spills down her shoulders, but the rest of her face is too dark to make out.
“Say your name.” The commanding voice contains the same accent as Vincent Stacatto’s. He must be the one positioning the camera, because the lens begins to focus in on the woman—just enough to see the tears streaming down her face and the outline of a small nose.
“M-Maria,” she whispers.
When I hear the woman seated beside me gasp, I know she recognizes her.
“Open your mouth,” Stacatto commands the girl on camera.The shot is too tight to show his face, but I suspect that his hand is the one that appears, holding a glinting diamond ring.
The woman inhales sharply, but hell, even I recognize it. He must have fished it from Arno’s place before he set it on fire.
Maria starts to sob. “P-please—” Her plea is silenced when he shoves the ring through the part in her lips, sealing her mouth shut with his palm.
“You will watch this, Lynn,” Stacatto murmurs toward the camera. “All of it.”
The lens pans out, just enough to reveal the woman choking on a fourteen-karat ring while a larger man shoves her down and starts to tear at her clothes. “You will watch...”
“No!”
Mack’s phone goes flying off the bar and lands on the floor, batted away by a pale hand. The fall isn’t enough to cut the video off, however. Shrill screams erupt from the speaker but are drowned out by the sound of a stool toppling over and rolling across the floor. A streak of black hair is my only warning to lunge, and I seize a handful of white cotton—but I’m not expecting the ferocity she fights me off with, and she claws at my fingers until they let go.
