The Hitman's Mark

28. Escape

"Well, it's nice to meet you Francesco." Val offered her sweetest smile and started toward the door, but he immediately moved to block her path. Adrenaline began pounding through her veins.

"Leaving so soon?" Francesco frowned, tilting his head like a scavenger. "I watched you slip out of the ballroom. It looked like you needed a few more minutes to yourself... I thought we could talk?"

Panic tightened Val's throat, but she managed a hasty. "I don't think you and I have anything to talk about, Francesco."

Again, she tried to slip past him, but Franscesco apprehended her with a steel grip on her upper arm. Immediately, bone and muscle groaned beneath his demanding hand. Val attempted to rip her arm from his grip, which only caused more pain. She'd undoubtedly bruise tomorrow.

"Don't touch me!" she hissed, not yet raising her voice.

Another lupin smirk twisted on his face. "Come now, Valentina," he crooned, and the sound sent a wave of nausea through her body. "I saw you with McLeod – that Outsider. It's a fucking crime to give a pure-blooded principessa to an outsider. A waste of a good woman. You deserve a real Made Man."

Outsider. Val disliked Ezra as much as anybody, and she'd been humiliated by her father's plan to hand her off to a man outside of the Cosa Nostra. But she hated the hunger in Franscesco's eyes even more.

"Leave me alone!" she demanded, twisting her arm out of his grip, only to be recaptured again. This time, both of Franscesco's hands clamped down on her shoulders, preventing her from moving away from him.

"Leonardo's a fucking fool!" Franscesco growled, and Val smelt the alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. He pressed in closer, and she tried to wrench her face away from his wandering mouth. "Let me have you! I'll fuck you like a real man. Let you know what it's like to have a capo in your pussy. Then you'll never want to crawl back to your outsider fiancé."

As he groaned those words, one of his hands slipped around to the slit in Val's skirts. His other wrapped around her waist, pulling her hips closer until she pressed flush against his hips, and his length. For the first time, Val screamed.

"No!" she shouted, the word shrill with terror. Still, no one in the ballroom would hear her cries over the music and chatter. She only had herself now. No one else would come to save her.

Franscesco lowered his mouth onto hers, his tongue like a big wet slug seeking entrance between her lips. But his movements were clumsy and drunk, and he'd released her struggling arms long enough for Val to shove roughly against his shoulders. Given his size and training, he only staggered a single step back, but it gave her enough room to make an attack.

Just like Matteo taught her, she released the heel of her palm upward, striking Franscesco square on the nose. To her shock and triumph, blood spattered all around them, and the mafioso grabbed at his broken feature, shouting a string of rage-filled curses.

Val stumbled backwards, using the opportunity to put distance between their bodies. He still blocked her exit, but she'd wounded him. Maybe she could strike again and slip past him to find help?

But Franscesco already stood straighter again, recovering. His nose twisted at an obscene angle, reminding Val of a boxer after losing a fight. "You little bitch!" he snarled, advancing on her again. "I'll fuck you bloody, then call my brothers out here. McLeod won't want you anymore."

His words petrified her, terror raking its claws across her mind. She couldn't wait any longer. She needed to run.

Val lurched to the side in a desperate attempt to reach the doorway behind Franscesco. He lunged toward her, and she tried to block his hands with another shove, but he was too fast. Too trained in combat. His shoulder collided with her side, knocking her to the hard cement. Val's body screamed as the skin on one shoulder ripped off and her body weight crushed her left arm. Fortunately, her head avoided contact with the ground, so she remained conscious.