He unfolded his arms and pushed off the door frame, stalking her like prey.

“I asked you a question. What pathetic, sniveling thing did you do to soften my brother toward you? I know him. I know you aren’t satisfying his needs. So why are you still alive? You were meant as a gift, not a burden. Maybe I should take you back with me and find someone who’ll put better use to your charms. I’m sure one of my guys would like to take you home. I can’t believe I spared you. I should have shot you in that dumpster.”

“Leo!” she shouted. But as soon as the word exited her mouth, Angelo backhanded her. She stumbled and lashed out at him with the glass, missing his face and slicing his arm instead.

He gripped her wrist, bending it back to force the makeshift weapon from her hand. It fell to the floor, shattering into more pieces. “You stupid cunt,” he growled. “You’ll pay for that.” He pressed her against the sink, his hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing while she gagged and choked and struggled for breath, convinced these were her last moments. She scratched and clawed at Angelo’s hands, trying to get him off her.

“Breaking my Christmas present?”

The pressure released from her throat, and she could breathe again. She’d never been so relieved to hear Leo’s voice. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, watching his brother, his face unperturbed by a single recognizable expression.

Angelo grabbed her by the back of the neck and threw her on the ground in front of Leo. “That is where a slave belongs—at her Master’s feet. You stupid whore.”

Faith flinched and crawled closer to Leo. She was too afraid to make any sudden moves with Angelo in this state. She was unsure Leo would come to her aid. He hadn’t ripped his brother off her, or yelled at him, or made any big display of gallantry. Surely he didn’t care one way or the other what happened to her. Why would he? Angelo was right in a way, she was his brother’s burden, and rescuing her from every little threat added to the annoyance. Drawing more attention to herself now by standing and riling Angelo further was a recipe for death.

“Why aren’t you using her?”

“Is she mine?” Leo asked, rhetorically.

“Of course,” Angelo conceded.

“Then she’s not your concern. What I do or don’t do with her or when isn’t your business. Did you think I’d start training her before the new year? With the family coming in?”

“I hadn’t thought of it,” he said. “I was pissed she wasn’t giving you what she was meant to give you. She’s acting all entitled, like she’s special.”

“And whose fault is that? You’re the one who told our mother we were engaged. It’s because of you that we’re acting out this drama.”

Angelo sighed. “You know how Ma gets when she’s around Davide. I wanted her focus somewhere else for a change. She’s gotta give her harping a rest.”