“I need you to get up. We’re going for a little drive. Can you get Marcel? I’ll grab Santo and Gabrielle. But we have to be real quiet, okay, baby?” I tell him. I see the confusion in his eyes. But he’s a good kid. He doesn’t question me, just nods his head and pushes the blankets aside.

“Okay. I’ll get Marcel,” Gio says.

I walk into Gabrielle’s room, and then Santo’s. With all five boys, I make a game out of slowly creeping down the stairs. We step into the foyer and then my heart drops. This isn’t happening. He’s supposed to be away. He’s not meant to be here.

“Going somewhere?” Giovanni asks from where he’s standing by the door. Blocking it.

Our eldest son moves in front of me until I grab hold of him and push him back. “Take your brothers upstairs and go to bed,” I say while passing him Vin.

“No, I don’t want to leave you.” Gio shakes his head.

“Please, just go upstairs. I’ll be okay,” I tell him.

My son looks from me to his father before he walks up the stairs. His brothers follow him.

I brace myself as I turn back to face my husband. “Did something happen? You’re home early.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he dips his chin towards someone behind me, and I’m grabbed by my arms. “Take her to my office. Lock the door,” he orders the men now standing on each side of me.

“Giovanni, no, please don’t! I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry!” My pleas land on deaf ears. He’s not listening.

I’m dragged down the hall and then shoved into the room and onto the ground. When I peer up, all I see is disgust. I’ve never done anything to my husband’s men. I’ve never done anything to anyone. So why are they being so cruel?

I didn’t ask for this life. I didn’t want this life.

The door slams shut and then I hear the sound of the lock engaging. Shit. I need to get out of here.

I jump to my feet and run over to the window. Just as I’m trying to lift the glass, I see two more men standing on the other side.

I’m trapped in here. I’ve been trapped in this house for years. But now I’m really trapped. What’s he going to do with me? How many bones will be broken?

I walk over to the sofa and curl up on top. This isn’t going to end well for me. Giovanni isn’t stupid. He knows what I was doing. It’s a matter of when. When he will punish me.