Crescendo - B*M* Book #1 SAMPLE

Chapter 3 | Lunch

WARNING: THIS STORY WILL BE REMOVED ON WED MAY 10th! Why? I'm publishing the fully edited version of the novel on itunes and Amazon! Thank you all so much for your support. The book will be released next Saturday, May 13th and YOU can score your copy now for just .99 cents!

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"Miss." Someone shakes me awake, their fingers warm over my shoulder. "Miss...it's t-time to wake up."

The timid whisper belongs to a woman. Her fear calls to my own and the recognition makes me huddle beneath the silken sheets. She has to tap me yet again. "Miss?"

I finally sit up with a sigh, rubbing at my eyes with one hand. When I blink, a pretty face greets me, sporting a strained smile that does its best to seem comforting.

"Good morning, Miss Manzano."

I nod in response while the woman hurries over to the hand-crafted wardrobe in the corner of my room and throws open the doors. She flips through hangers, searching for the outfit Vinny planned for me to wear, down to the last detail. One by one, she withdraws each requested garment and sets them on a nearby chair. I strain my eyes in the weak daylight spilling in through the windows and observe each piece carefully: a skirt, and that silk blouse... My stomach sinks.

There's more to the outfit, however. Frowning, the girl goes through the wardrobe twice, still searching. On the third pass her hands shake with fear. "L-lace shawl?" she murmurs to herself. "I can't...I can't find it--"

"It had a hole in it," I force myself to say picturing the garment in question: a shawl, custom-made for me by some well-known designer from Italy. "I threw it out."

"Oh." She can't resist rummaging through the clothes one last time before accepting defeat. She's young, maybe twenty. I don't know her name—for the past four weeks that she's waited on me, I've never dared to ask.

Her skin is pale, her eyes blue. She keeps her long blonde hair pinned neatly back, the way Vinny prefers it, but when she coaxes me out of bed and sits me before my vanity she brushes out my dark tresses rather than arrange them the same way.

I don't know why. I don't ask, not even when she secures the waves behind my ears with an ivory headband I don't even remember owning. Vinny makes me wear white from head to toe today: the blouse and a matching skirt that reflect the shadows of the room as if taunting me when my companion displays them on their hangers and forces another smile. "Beautiful, yes?"

"Yes," I say as expected, but the look we share contains anything but admiration. We're grim. We're silent. With gritted teeth, she helps me out of my nightgown and we both suck in a breath when my torso is bared. The black lines etched into my flesh are never easier to stomach. Some days I manage to trace them with a finger, mouthing each letter—but never what they spell out. Vinny tries to erase what he's done to me with high collars and scalloped necklines. My pure, innocent Lynn, he likes to murmur into my hair. He thinks the lies flatter me...but there's nothing pure about the girl staring at me from the mirror. Her hazel eyes hold too many secrets.

"Please, Miss," my companion urges. Her eyes nervously dart to the clock propped on my nightstand and she presses the blouse Vinny's chosen for me against her chest. "Let us dress you now?"