Claimed

3. Blood and Duty

Chapter three

Blood and Duty

Just like that, this day had shifted to insanity, and no amount of applause could drown out the absurdity of this moment right now.

My stepfather thought I fucking owed him.

Even more, I had no idea how he figured I was going to pay him back.

My heart pounded. “I don’t understand what you’re saying, but again. . .call me tomorrow and we can meet somewhere to discuss it.”

“It’s cold outside. You should put on a jacket.” Maximo gestured to it. “We don’t have time for you to change into something suitable. We’re already late.”

“Late?”

“But. . .I wanted you to have your moment on the stage, and you did.”

“W-what are we late for?”

The small dressing room now felt like a prison.

“You don’t get it, do you, Bella?” Vito’s voice went low, almost a growl. “This isn’t something you can just walk away from.”

“I don’t even know what I’m trying to walk away from.”

My stepfather spoke, “I waited a long time so that you could live your life and at least dance one night, however as I already said, we cannot wait any longer.”

I tensed. “And as I said. . .what are we late for?”

Surely, he wasn’t used to anyone talking to him like that.

Maximo cleared his throat. “You are part of my family. My daughter. You know what that means.”

I shook my head. “I don't know what that means.”

I almost added that he never really treated me like his daughter but left that alone. All I could do was make sure they were both out of here in time for me to put on my next costume and dance for the final act.

Maximo backed up to the vanity table and leaned against it. “When a man with my empire has kids, there are duties expected of them. Sons must take over the throne one day.”

I leaned my head to the side. “And. . .daughters?”

“They must marry in a way that either saves my empire or expands it.”

“Oh no.” I edged back. “No. No. No. I'm not a part of this—”

“You are my daughter.”

“I am not.” My pulse quickened.

His face hardened even more at my defiance. A wickedly cruel edge sharpened his features, and he narrowed his eyes.

“Not his daughter?” My brother, Vito spoke, “Yet, you had no problem getting money from him every month and having him pay for your cozy life.”

“It was not that cozy, and I worked for damn near everything I have. I thank you for the allowance, Father, but that allowance doesn't give you the right to arrange any marriages for me. In fact, I don't even plan to marry—”

“Once I married your mother, I was given that right and you were considered my blood by all.” He scowled at me. “And you will marry. . .tonight.”

I almost passed out. “What? W-what did you say?”

“You will marry tonight.”

“N-no, I won’t.” I inched back some more.

Get out of here. He’s crazy. Go to the police or something.

Fast, I turned around and ran to the door.

An iron grip on my arm halted my escape.

“You're not going anywhere, Bella,” Vito's voice was as cold as ice.

He whipped me around, slamming my back against the wall with a force that knocked the breath from my lungs.

Jesus Christ. He’s strong.

The room spun for a moment, but the cold, hard reality of the situation snapped me back into focus as Vito’s iron grip clamped down on my arm, his fingers like steel vices digging into my skin with bruising force.

I trembled. “Let me go.”

But I knew that pleading wouldn't get me anywhere.

Vito's smirk only widened, and this sick pleasure filled his eyes relishing in my fear.

It was the final straw.

A surge of anger and desperation roared to life within me, fueled by years of suppressed rage, fear, and frustration. I twisted in his grip and swung my free hand toward his face. My fake vampire nails caught the edge of his cheek and left a thin trail of red in their wake.

Vito hissed in pain, but his grip didn’t loosen. “You little bitch.”

But I wasn’t done.

Using the momentum of my twist, I brought my knee up sharply, aiming for the soft spot in his groin.

Vito saw it coming, shifted, and knocked my knee out of the way.

Then, he gripped me even harder.

I could barely deal with the pain.

Like a mad man, Vito breathed me in. “Try that again, sis , and I’ll take my knife out and slash that pretty face.”

I opened my mouth in horror.

So much for brotherly love.

I could feel the cold, hard wood of the door pressing against my back. Still. . .I lifted my view and glared at him. “I'm not going to marry anyone. You two are crazy.”

On the right of us, my stepfather sighed. “I am sorry, Bella, but you must marry.”

“I have my own life and choices—”

“A life that I allowed.”

“Allowed? I—”

“Your life? Your choice?” Now Maximo’s voice was devoid of warmth. “You think you’ve ever had a choice, Bella? You’ve lived in the illusion of freedom for too long. Tonight, you return to your real family—to your duty. I spared you your duty for a long time just so you could have at least one memory of dancing. You’ve had it tonight, now you must—”

“I am not—”

“You will.”

“I won't! You would have to kill me!”

Vito chuckled and dug his fingers deeper into my arm, causing me to grit my teeth in pain. “Could I father? You know I would love to kill her.”

I blinked and tried to shove away the pain.

My stepfather came closer and shook his head. “No, Vito. Our Bella is more valuable alive.”

Vito's shoulders slumped and his head hung low. The anger and aggression that had burned in his eyes moments before was now replaced with a sullen and defeated look. “Damn it. I thought I would at least get to kill her.”

Is he really serious?

“I know, Vito. I know.” My stepfather bobbed his head and walked over. “We have talked about your. . . hunger for these things, but remember. . .our limits are with family.”

Vito frowned.

My baby brother had clearly become a psychopath. The realization settled over me like a numbing veil, and it was suffocating and inescapable.

I had seen the small clues before I left that cursed estate—the way as a kid he’d delighted in causing pain, the gleam in his eyes when he caught sight of something vulnerable—a kitten, an injured bird.

But back then, I was young myself and had pushed those thoughts aside, convincing myself that he was just a troubled child, a product of the violent world we had been thrust into.

Now, standing before him, I knew the truth.

There would be no turning back for Vito.

No escape from the monster he had become.

How could this have happened?

How could the sweet, innocent boy I once knew have transformed into this terrifying creature?

I tried to reconcile the memories of the brother I had once adored with the man now standing before me, his cruel smirk and cold eyes a massive difference to the boy who used to giggle in my arms.

I remembered our mother cradling him when he was just a baby, her face glowing with love and pride.

She had doted on him, as had I.

He was her precious son—the baby.

I could still see her holding him close, whispering sweet lullabies into his tiny ear and rocking him gently to sleep. His tiny laughter had been infectious.

When Vito was toddler, he used to cling to me. His chubby fingers would grip mine as we walked together through the gardens of our home.

He would look up at me with those big hazel eyes, eyes that now were now empty and devoid of warmth.

All those memories belonged to another lifetime.

My stepfather got to my side and patted Vito’s shoulder. “Relax, son.”

Finally, my brother let me go.

I looked down at my arm and saw deep, jagged cuts from my brother's nails. My brown skin was now raw and red around the edges.

Blood beaded from the wounds.

Maximo spoke, “You want me to be proud of you? Then do what’s right for this family. That’s how you earn more of my respect, Bella.”

I no longer want your damn respect.

Shivering, I put my view back on my stepfather.

For years, I told myself I had escaped this life. But standing here, with those cold eyes fixed on me, I realized how much power Maximo still held over me.

My eyes watered. “Please, don’t make me do this. There has to be another way. I will do anything else but this—”

“You don’t have a choice. You never did. You’re the daughter of Maximo Giordano, whether you like it or not. That comes with responsibilities.”

“I’m not going to marry some stranger just because you decided it. This is my life. My choice.”

“Vito, you should talk to your sister for a few minutes.” My father headed away. “Get her comfortable with the idea of marriage.”

“I don’t need to talk to Vito about anything, and I don’t care about your empire,” I snapped. “I’m not one of you. I never was.”

My stepfather’s eyes darkened. His calm faded into something more sinister. “Yes. I think that you simply need more convincing.”

Tears threatened to spill over, but I blinked them back. I wouldn’t cry in front of them. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. “I-I don’t need any convincing.”

He turned to Vito. “Talk to Bella for me. Perhaps, you can warm her to the idea.”

This dark twisted expression covered Vito’s face. “I could try, Father.”

“What?” I stepped to the right, putting space between my brother and me. “I don’t need any—”

“Just make sure her face isn’t bruised. We need her to look nice for her groom.”

“Yes, Father.”

No. No. No.

Vito's hazel eyes gleamed with violence.

My heart pounded in my chest like a wild beast thrashing against its cage, desperate to escape.

Don’t leave me with this psycho.

I got further away from them and searched for some weapon I could use against him. All I spotted was glittering tutus, delicate pointe shoes, ribbons, and tulle.

My stepfather opened the door and soon his broad back and confident stride disappeared through the doorway, leaving me and my brother alone in the room.

“Wait. Don’t—”

The door closed with a resounding finality that echoed in the room.

And in that moment, I knew, I was truly alone.

No more fatherly intervention.

No more half-hearted attempts at familial diplomacy.

Just Vito and me.

Predator and prey.

Now what?