I scurried back to the bedroom and closed the door, thinking, trying to make sense of it all. Should I call my sister and warn her about what I’d heard? Warn Luke? Or should I try to find out more first? See if Salvatore would tell me anything?

When a quick knock came, I jumped up, thinking it was Salvatore and that we could go. The door opened, but it was Dominic who stepped inside. He looked me over, his gaze odd, almost curious, but he remained at the entrance of the door.

“Hey,” he said casually. A smile curved his lips upward, his voice sounded almost sweet. Too sweet. “I wanted to see if you were okay. My brother can be a brute and, to be honest, it sounded like he wasn’t holding back last night.”

I flushed. Was he talking about the whipping or the sex or both?

“I…I’m fine.” I faltered.

He nodded and stepped inside. I didn’t like him, didn’t like the way his eyes shifted around the room and over me.

“I’m glad.” Again, his voice soft, his smile gentle. “If you ever need anything”—he grabbed a card out of his pocket—“this is my private number.”

“I don’t—”

“Just take it and hope you never have to use it. Like I said, my brother can be very physical. Brutal even. I’ve seen what he’s done before, Lucia. I’ve cleaned it up.”

What?

When I made no move, he closed the space between us, took my hand, turned it over, and pressed the card into my palm.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?”

I jumped at Salvatore’s sudden appearance, but Dominic only gave him a smirk and picked something out from under his fingernail.

“Just checking in on Lucia. Since she wasn’t feeling well and all. She looks good to me, though, considering.”

“Get the fuck out of here, Dominic.”

Dominic shrugged a shoulder and glanced back at me after taking a step toward the door.

“If you ever need anything, Lucia…”

“She won’t be needing anything from you.”

Salvatore stalked toward me, the look in his eyes chilling me as he squeezed my wrist and took the card from my hand. He didn’t look at it. Didn’t need to, I guessed.

Dominic walked out the door. Salvatore kicked it shut behind him, his hand still gripping my wrist.

“You’re hurting me, Salvatore.”

Anger, frustration, I don’t know what it was, but whatever he was feeling, it rolled off him and slammed into me.

“It seems that’s all I can do.” He dropped my wrist. “We’re leaving.” He grabbed the suitcases and walked into the hallway.

I followed him out of the bedroom, wanting to be away from this house most of all, yet fearing Salvatore. Uncertain now if would save me or destroy me.