Chapter Twenty Four
Nina's POV
The sound of the slap rings in my ears before the pain even hits.
My head snaps to the side. My cheek burns like it has been set on fire. For a second, everything goes white and sharp and loud. I hear my own voice before I even know I am screaming.
I grab my face, fingers pressing over my cheek. Heat spreads under my palm. My eyes sting. My ears buzz.
"You slapped me," I shout, my voice shaking. "You actually slapped me!"
Nana gasps behind me. "Nina, mija—"
Something in me snaps.
I am tired. Tired of being hit. Tired of being punished. Tired of being treated like I am less than everyone else. Tired of pretending I do not see things. Tired of being the one who always bleeds.
Before I can think, my hand flies.
I take my palm off my cheek and swing it straight at Isabela's face.
The sound is loud. Her head jerks to the side this time. Her eyes go wide and wild.
Her mouth falls open. She touches her cheek like she cannot believe I did it back.
"How dare you," she hisses.
"You hit Nana—" I start.
"I hit you," she snaps, stepping closer. "And now you hit me. You think you're brave now? You think being their little pet gives you the right to touch me?"
Anger rushes through her face, twisting her features. Before I can move away, she lunges.
Her hand grabs my shoulder. The other hand slams into my chest, hard.
I lose my balance.
My heel slips on a bit of onion peel on the floor. The room tilts. Nana screams my name.
I fall backward.
I do not hit the floor. My skull slams against the sharp corner of the marble island. There is a sick, heavy crack. Pain explodes in my forehead, white and hot.
The world blurs.
I drop to the floor, knees and palms hitting hard tile. For a second, I see stars. Then I feel something warm and wet running down my face.
I touch my forehead. When I pull my hand back, it is covered in red.
Blood.
"Nina!" Nana screams. Her voice is raw and terrified. "Ay Dios, no, no, no…"
She drops to her knees beside me, hands shaking as she tries to lift my head gently.
"Don't move," she says. "Don't move, mija, you are bleeding, you are bleeding…"
My ears are ringing. My head throbs. I can taste blood now too, running down the side of my face and near my lips.
"What did you do?" Nana cries, looking up at Isabela. "What did you do to her?"
For a second, I think Isabela will shout back. I think she will deny it. I think she will blame me.
But instead, her eyes flick to the kitchen doorway.
We hear heavy footsteps upstairs. A door slams. Voices shout. The house is already on high alert because of everything that has happened. Any sound makes the guards jump now.
They are coming.
Isabela's face changes in a heartbeat. The rage smooths away. Her eyes go cold and sharp.
Then she moves fast.
She snatches the big kitchen knife from the counter. The sharp one Nana uses when she is cutting meat.
My heart jumps into my throat. "Nana," I manage to whisper. "Knife…"
But Isabela does not come toward me.
She drags the blade across her own forearm.
Blood opens under her skin in a thin, red line that gets wider as it fills. She drops the knife on the floor beside me so hard it clatters, then lifts it again, smearing the handle in her own blood.
Before I can push it away, she grabs my wrist, shoves the bloody handle into my palm, and curls my fingers around it.
"What are you doing ?"I choke.
She leans down, her face close to mine, her eyes bright and deadly.
"Play the part, little pet," she whispers. "Or I'll make sure the next time you bleed, you don't get back up."
Then she starts screaming.
"She attacked me!" Isabela shrieks, her voice high and full of fake fear. "She went crazy! Help! Somebody help me!"
She steps back fast, holding her cut arm out so the blood drips more. Then she stumbles toward the doorway as if she is the one who has been hunted.
Nana looks at her like she cannot believe what she is seeing. "You did that to yourself," she says, voice shaking. "You monster, you devil!"
More footsteps thunder down the stairs.
Bodyguards rush in first, guns drawn, eyes scanning every corner. Two of them freeze when they see me on the floor and the blood on my face.
"Nina!" one of them calls.
Then Dante appears in the doorway.
He looks half wild. His hair is messy like he dragged his hand through it. He is in a black shirt and dark pants, no tie, no jacket. His eyes move fast, taking in everything at once.
Isabela runs straight to him.
She throws herself at his chest, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her bloody cut against him on purpose so it stains his shirt.
"Dante," she sobs, loud and dramatic. "Thank God you're here. She did this. She lost control."
His hands come up on instinct, one landing on her shoulder, the other hovering in the air like he does not know where to touch.
"What happened?" he demands.
"She did this!" Isabela points at me with a shaking finger, her voice pitching higher. "She attacked me and Nana. I was only asking for food and she snapped, she grabbed the knife, she tried to stab me. I defended myself. I swear, I was only trying to protect us."
Nana jumps up, ready to speak, but one of the guards moves between her and Dante, not to block her, just to keep the scene from getting worse. She looks like she wants to throw the knife at Isabela's head.
I still have the stupid knife in my hand. My fingers are wet with her blood and mine. The handle is slippery.
I try to let it fall, but my hand is clumsy. It clatters to the floor beside me.
Isabela tightens her arms around Dante like she is scared he will step away.
"She keeps saying you're hers," she cries, voice shaking in fake hurt. "She says I'm stealing her man, that this house is her kingdom now, that everyone should bow to her. She said I should leave, that I don't belong here, that you are her property, Dante."
She says it in one rush, like she has practiced the story in her head.
Dante's eyes slowly shift from her to me.
For a moment, he looks straight into mine.
His face is hard to read. His brow is tight. His jaw clenches. There is confusion there. And something else. Something darker.
"Did she call me her man?" he asks, voice low, almost like he is not even aware he said it out loud.
Isabela nods fast, her hair bouncing. "Yes. Over and over. She said I should stay away from 'her man' and 'her house.' I only came here because I was scared, because those men almost killed me. I thought I was safe with you. But she… she hates me."
She buries her face in his chest and starts sobbing again, soaking his shirt with tears and blood.
I want to scream that she is lying. I want to yell that I took the slap meant for Nana, that I hit my head on the marble, that she cut herself and shoved the knife into my hand.
But when I open my mouth, my tongue feels thick. My head throbs. Blood runs down past my eye and into my lashes.
The room tilts again.
"Nina," someone says sharply.
Enzo.
He pushes past two guards and drops to his knees beside me. His eyes go wide when he sees my forehead.
"Fuck," he breathes. "You're bleeding bad."
He rips his shirt off in one hard jerk, not even bothering with the buttons, just dragging it over his head. He presses the clean side of it to my forehead, trying to stop the blood.
"Hold this," he says, guiding my hand up. "Press hard. Don't let go."
Nana crouches on my other side, her hands flying over my arms, my shoulders, checking for more wounds. "Mija, talk to me," she says. "Can you see me? How many fingers am I holding up?"
She holds up three.
"Three," I whisper.
"Good," she says, even though she looks like she wants to cry. "You'll be okay. Just a cut. Just a cut."
The front of Enzo's shirt turns red fast.
I feel the warm blood soaking through the cloth and onto my fingers.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement.
Dante steps closer, peeling Isabela off his chest. His eyes are still on me now, not on her. His stare follows the line of blood down my face, the way my hands shake, the way Enzo keeps wiping at the wound.
"Nina," he says. His voice is lower now. "Let me see."
He takes a step toward me.
Something inside me snaps again, but in a different way this time.
I drag myself backward, away from his hand, away from his reach. My back hits the cabinet. My head throbs harder.
"Stay away from me," I scream. My voice is raw and loud. It shakes the air. "Don't touch me. Don't come near me."
The room goes very quiet.
Enzo freezes, his hand still on my forehead. Nana's mouth falls open. The guards shift, uncomfortable, like they have walked into a family fight they want no part of.
Isabela stops sobbing, just for a second, and looks at me over Dante's arm, her eyes bright and pleased.
Dante stares at me.
He looks like I slapped him harder than I slapped her.
His throat works once, like he is trying to swallow whatever he was about to say. His hands fall to his sides. He drags one hand over his face, palm pressed hard to his eyes for a second.
He lets out a long, rough breath.
"What the fuck is going on," he finally says, his voice cold and sharp. "This mansion witnessed no peace till you came in."
He looks straight at me when he says it.
And his eyes are ice.