Chapter 7
"No! Raffaele, you can't do this!" Bianca shrieked, thrashing wildly as two massive bodyguards descended upon her.
They moved with brutal, silent efficiency. One guard seized her wrists, effortlessly stripping the heavy diamond rings from her fingers and unbuckling her luxury watch. The other unclasped her diamond necklace and forced her out of her expensive high heels. Bianca kicked and fought, her elegant formal dress tearing at the seams, but she was entirely powerless against the hardened enforcers.
"Get your hands off me! I am a Castellano!" she screamed, her fair skin flushed a deep, frantic crimson.
Raffaele watched the struggle with absolute detachment. His hands were casually tucked into the pockets of his tailored trousers. He did not blink. He did not raise his voice.
"Put her in," Raffaele repeated slowly.
The guards dragged the hysterical woman across the bright hardwood floor and shoved her roughly into the shallow, dark chamber beneath the suite. Bianca fell onto the rough wooden joists, sobbing and scrambling to reach the edge. Before her manicured hands could grasp the rim, a bodyguard planted his heavy boot on her shoulder, shoving her back into the darkness.
"Raffaele, please!" Bianca wailed from the pit, her voice echoing hollowly against the floorboards. "It's cold down here! I can't breathe! Please!"
Raffaele walked slowly to the edge of the opening. He looked down into the dark chamber, his eyes empty of all brotherly affection.
"You will stay there until I decide what to do with the elders who helped you," Raffaele whispered softly into the darkness. "Scream all you like. The acoustics, as you know, are excellent."
He turned his back on the hole. "Close it."
The bodyguards lifted the heavy wooden floor panel and slammed it shut, sealing Bianca beneath the floorboards. The sudden silence in the room was absolute, save for the muffled, frantic thumping coming from beneath the solid wood.
Raffaele adjusted his unbuttoned shirt, the tattoos on his hands flexing as he walked over to the velvet chaise lounge. The cold, ruthless Mafia boss melted away instantly as he knelt beside Evelyn.
She was trembling, her knees pulled to her chest, the torn wedding dress pooling around her. Her fair, rosy skin was marred by years of neglect. She looked at him with wide, fearful eyes, still unable to fully process the rapid, violent shift in her reality.
"Evelyn," Raffaele murmured, his voice returning to a gentle, heartbreaking softness. He reached out slowly, ensuring she could see his hands, and gently brushed a lock of filthy hair from her face. "It is over. No one will ever put you in the dark again."
"Raffaele," Evelyn choked out, her voice breaking. Tears carved clean lines down her dirt-stained cheeks. "She told me you knew. She told me you ordered her to put me down there because I embarrassed you."
Raffaele closed his eyes, a spike of pure, unadulterated agony piercing his chest. "I searched for you for a year. I burned half the city to the ground looking for whoever took you. I never stopped loving you, Evelyn."
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He opened his eyes and leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against hers.
"I am going to make them pay for every second they took from us," Raffaele promised quietly.
