“I’m saying I wouldn’t have created that contract in the first place. But to be fair, your father agreed. Remember that.”

“My father didn’t have a choice.”

“He should have been willing to die…” he paused and leaned forward, anger marking his words, an anger I did not expect. “He should have been willing to die rather than see you go through what you did.”

That last part made me stop.

“He did die.” But Salvatore was right. And that was why I’d been so angry with my father all these years. Why I refused to see him. He’d given me up without a fight. Salvatore was right. How could he stand by and watch what they did? How could he have offered his daughter to the Benedetti beasts?

“I don’t want to upset you, Lucia.”

I wiped the back of my hand across my face, catching the single tear that had slipped from my eye. I shook my head, not wanting to speak for fear I would weep. It would be easier if he were unkind. Damn him, it would be easier.

“All I’m saying is I wouldn’t have done what my father did. I would not have required the innocent daughter of my enemy as payment.”

Fuck.

I swallowed back tears, knowing he saw right through me all along.

“But we’re here now. You and I are both here, and bound to one another. I don’t want a prisoner. I don’t want someone who fears or hates me in my own house.”

“Then I don’t understand. Why do you care what I think? I’m your enemy, and you’ve won. My presence here is proof of that. To your power over me and my family.”

“I’m not a monster, whether you believe it or not.”

“What do you want from me, then?”

“I’ve already told you: your obedience. You give me that, and I’ll make this easier.”

Obedience. I hated that fucking word. “And if I don’t, you’ll punish me like you did before.”

“I’ll be creative in my punishments, yes,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eye.

Goose bumps made the hairs on my arms stand on end, and my mind wandered to the restraints attached to the posts of his bed. Would he use those? Was that getting creative?

Salvatore reached out to softly touch my knee. My mind screamed for me to pull away, but instead, I looked from his eyes to his hand. I swallowed as he stroked the inside of my knee, then my thigh, pushing the dress up as he did so.

“I think you enjoyed at least part of your punishment.”

I shook my head, just a small “no,” but kept my eyes on his hand, on his fingers as they drew small circles on too sensitive flesh.