“Ah, yes, well, Father Lucciano, how nice to meet you again,” she said, beaming at the devil in black sitting across the room.
Damn, Sister Vera’s got the hots for the new priest,the voice in my head sniggered. She’d been pretty quiet since yesterday.
“Shh,” I said before I could help myself.
Sister Vera glared at me.
“Well, I’ll leave you with this one, but be warned, she’s known to be... tempted by sin.” Sister Vera flashed me a look up and down.
It was obvious she wanted to call me a whore but had only just restrained herself.
“Also, she needs her meds,” Sister Vera continued.
Father Lucciano stood, looming over both of us, and strolled to my side.
“I’ve got it handled, Sister. Thank you for your careful attention to each patient. They are lucky to have you here.”
Father Lucciano took both of Sister Vera’s hands between his and squeezed them. I thought the good sister was going to pass out for a moment, or come, or something equally embarrassing, but she just squeaked a thanks and headed out the door.
“Come in, Miss Dmitrova. Make yourself at home.” He crossed the room back to the desk.
I let out a snort at that phrase.
Father Lucciano arched an elegant black brow at me. “Something amusing?”
I glanced around. “Yeah, the thought that this place could be anything like a home. It’s a prison, Father, if you’ve not worked that out yet.”
“Please, call me Massimo. No need for formalities.” He reached for a chart on the desk and flipped it open. Sat down in Benedict’s chair.
I fought a flinch. That file held all my history. Every painful moment that had led me here, to this place.
“Why don’t you tell me what brought you here?” Lucciano said.
I nodded to the file. “You can just read it for yourself.”
“I’d prefer you told me.”
I scoffed. “I need to give you my name, I need to tell you my story... do you get off on making people do things?”
His face didn’t move. “You have no idea. Why are you here?”
“Didn’t you catch Sister Vera’s drift? I’m a whore, remember? That’s what the unholy trinity think, anyway.”
Lucciano considered my words and shook his head. “Try again. I see your mother petitioned the board for your admittance.”
“She was worried about my eternal soul. She thought that getting me in here would save me from the corruption of the world,” I said, parroting her words from so long ago.
“And has it?”
I eyed him up and down. “What do you think? Anyway, no one listened to my mother until Ivan Markovic got involved.”
“Ah, yes, your boyfriend—sorry, fiancé.”
“No, not my boyfriend or my fiancé. He’d never be either. Never. I hated the guy, but he didn’t like hearing that, or the wordno.” I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep it together.
Lucciano simply watched. “And so?”
“And so, he went telling on me to his uncle—Father Vargas. Told him I was a fallen woman, that I went after married men, that I practiced witchcraft and spoke to spirits. My mother handed me over, and the fuckers locked me up in here.”