Can I trust him? Should I risk telling him the truth? If it was just my life on the line, I would. But I can’t risk the lives of my mother and brother. If Rocco finds out I’m trying to escape, he would probably kill us all.
“No.” I open my eyes. “Of course not.”
Alessandro nods and releases his hold on the bags. The finger on my chin lingers for a moment longer before he turns around and heads back down the hall.
I take off my coat, then carry my purchases to the bed and start putting away the things I’ve bought. Silk blouses. Cashmere sweaters. Shoes that cost more than six months of my mom’s rent. Rocco insists that I wear only particular brands, preferably something where the logo or labels are visible. Sometimes, I feel like a walking billboard, advertising just how rich my husba
