Camille
My father's voice hisses a string of words in my head.
Idiot.
Gullible.
Fool.
Weak.
STUPID.
The words may be in his voice, but he isn't the reason they're looping through my head right now.
No. That's me.
Because I am an idiot. Gullible. A fool. Weak and stupid.
Because I've been fooled by a monster—something I should have learned to avoid by now, having spent my whole life with the worst one.
I convinced myself that being halfway across the world, far from my father's territory and reign of terror, would make me invisible. That the monsters of the mafia world wouldn't find me.
I thought I could be just another young woman privileged enough to vacation in Italy's breathtaking Lake Como region.
I shed my identity as Camille Conti and went by my middle name and my mother's maiden name.
Antoinette Delphi.
Of course, my passport still bore the name Camille Conti, and the hotel room had been booked under the Toinet Constance Group, one of my father's shell companies. So if anyone truly wanted to uncover who I was, they wouldn't need to be a genius.
My father made sure I was protected while abroad.
Not because he cares.
Ricco Conti only cares about himself and his power.
I also know he's planning something for when I return home. He hadn't said a word before I left, but I can read him like a book. I've spent my entire life learning to read my monstrous father. I don't know the details, but I know this much—my life was about to change forever.
For Ricco Conti's benefit.
Not mine.
For the Conti Princess—me—it would be anything but better.
But I suppose none of that matters now.
Because I jumped out of the frying pan and straight into the fire.
I got myself kidnapped.
When my father allowed me to travel to Italy, he sent guards, of course. Their job was to protect me. The situation I find myself in now, though… that part is on me.
I deceived my guards.
I've spent years perfecting obedience—presenting myself exactly how the monsters in my world expect. To the Conti guards, I was meek and compliant. I hadn't caused trouble in over a decade. My father made sure I learned that lesson well.
But without him watching, I grew brave.
Slipping past the guards was child's play.
And without them, Antoinette Delphi got to exist.
I left my absurdly expensive couture in my room. My hair was messy, my face bare, my clothes vintage—pulled from a small shop in the area.
And that's when I met her.
Vittoria Marino.
Beautiful. Vibrant. Full of life.
She said she was vacationing before settling down to start her PhD in International Studies.
I believed her.
Like the gullible idiot I am.
Over the past week, whenever I slipped away from my guards, I spent time with Vittoria. I laughed. I danced. I lived without walls for the first time in my life.
Not just physically unguarded—but emotionally bare.
I didn't have to lower my gaze. I didn't have to measure every word.
I wasn't the Conti Princess.
I was free.
She spoke without fear. She smiled without restraint. She wasn't jumpy or submissive. She wasn't haunted.
She was everything I wasn't.
And what an idiot she was.
That girl didn't exist. That reality was pretend.
Now, I have to face the truth.
Last night, Vittoria convinced me to go to a club. We danced. We laughed. I remember telling her I didn't feel well.
She wrapped an arm around me.
Then black spots.
Then her helping me into an SUV.
And then I woke up to the low hum of an airplane.
Drugged. Kidnapped. In the air.
I know better.
Everyone uses everyone. Nice girls don't survive in my world.
So why did I believe Vittoria Marino was my friend? Why did I think she'd care about Antoinette Delphi, a nobody?
Only fools hope.
Only weak girls trust.
I stare out the window, unmoving, since the moment I woke and saw Vittoria seated across from me. Silence stretches between us, heavy with questions she hasn't asked yet.
I don't speak.
That's another lesson.
You remain silent unless spoken to.
My father's voice slithers through my mind, and I suppress a shudder.
I learned obedience young. Being demure, passive, and pliable was safer. Less painful.
The pain was rarely physical. Bruises leave evidence, and my father prized unblemished beauty. He told me often that I was his golden ticket—the perfect Conti Princess, with her untouched virginity, was worth fortunes.
I shudder.
"Are you cold?"
I don't answer.
Cold is being locked in the basement cell with barely any clothes for days. Cold seeps into your bones.
"Camille…" Vittoria huffs. "Dammit, look at me."
Conditioning takes over.
I turn—but not the way Antoinette Delphi would have.
I lower my chin. Drop my gaze.
The Conti Princess.
She's no longer my friend.
She's another monster.
And I need to survive her.
Vittoria studies me, frowning. She's tall, willowy, beautiful.
And deceitful.
"Why aren't you fighting?" she asks.
I blink.
My mother's screams echo in my head.
Don't fight the monsters, princess. The monsters always win.
That was the last thing my father said before he made me listen to my mother being beaten.
I never saw her again.
"Camille?"
"You're pale as a ghost," Vittoria mutters, unbuckling her belt.
"Why do you care?" I rasp.
She freezes.
Watch yourself.
I look down at my hands, shutting down the hurt.
"Please look at me."
Her blue eyes shine with regret.
She's good. Very good.
"You changed," she says.
She hands me water. "The sedative causes dry mouth."
I drink. Half-hoping it's poisoned.
"Don't you have questions?" she presses.
Why coach me?
"Are you really doing a PhD?" I ask.
She looks away.
Answer enough.
"Would you answer the other questions?"
"Maybe not. But you should ask them."
I turn back to the window.
"Aren't you going to yell?" she demands.
"One hell to another," I whisper. "What's the difference?"
She swears.
"Did you kidnap me to teach me how to be brave?" I ask softly. "Because if so, you picked the wrong girl."
My father already beat that out of me.
She exhales. "Your father made a deal. You were to marry Sartori Luca when you returned."
So that was it.
"Do you know who he is?" she continues. "He buys people. From auctions."
I swallow.
"I suppose I should thank you," I murmur.
She snorts.
I close my eyes.
Don't fight the monsters.
I won't.
By the time the wheels touch down, there's nothing left in me to fight with.