AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Well, except freedom.
And my phone.
Otherwise, he makes sure I’m being looked after. Five-star meals. Luxurious surroundings. Expensive toiletries. Even the towels in the bathroom attached to the bedroom are the softest, fluffiest towels in the world.
Lying on the bed among a sea of pillows, I contemplate my next move. Murder is out of the question. As is escaping out the window. And I’ve probably got zero chance of finding a phone and calling 911.
No, escape requires some careful planning.
I have to be careful with my next move.
I wish I had my art supplies here. I could spend the rest of the night taking my frustrations out on the canvas and lose hours in a creative trance until I forget a gun-wielding psycho piranha has kidnaped me.
I stretch and yawn, but I’m too wired to sleep.
Or so I think.
Because the next thing I know, a knock on my door rouses me from a deep sleep. I blink my eyes open and am surprised to see a blue sky pressing against the windows.
Groggy, I sit up.
So much for being too worked up to sleep.
The bedroom door opens, and Arianna walks in carrying a tray of food.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Her smile is full of sunshine. “I brought you pancakes for breakfast.”
I had planned on going on a hunger strike in protest against my incarceration, but looking at the triple-stacked buttermilk pancakes dripping with maple syrup and garnished with strawberries, I decide I’ll start tomorrow.
I accept the tray from Arianna, and she sits on the side of the bed.
“You know, you don’t have to bring me food each day,” I say, feeling a little bad that Nico has her babysitting me. “Although I am very grateful.”
“It’s no bother.” She shrugs with a smile. “I like spending time with you again.”
I pause a forkful of pancake midair and smile back at her. “Yeah, me too.”
And it’s true. Arianna is lovely to be around, and I enjoy her company. I mean, I’d probably enjoy it more if I wasn’t being held captive, but beggars can’t be choosers.
“Where’s his royal highness?” I ask, tucking into a pancake.
“He’s at the office.”
I chuckle. She uses the word office as if her brother leaves the house each day to go to work at an advertising agency or as an insurance broker, not as a Mafia don who sits in a wing-backed chair in his office above a cocktail den and whips up batches of chaos to inflict on his enemies.
“So you pulled the short straw and have to guard the prisoner,” I say.
“You’re not a prisoner,” she reminds me. “And hanging out with my soon-to-be sister-in-law is not drawing the short straw. In fact, we’ve got something very exciting on the agenda today.”
“We do?”
“Yes.”
Her beaming smile is infectious, and I can’t help but grin back at her. “Are you going to tell me or make me guess?”
Her eyes light up, and her hands flutter together with an excited clap. “You’re being fitted for your wedding dress at the House of Bianchon at ten o’clock.”
My immediate reaction doesn’t match her enthusiasm. In fact, it’s pretty much the complete opposite. For me, an appointment to fit my bridal gown for my wedding to a man I despise is about as appealing as being fitted for a dress made of razor-sharp nails.
“It’s going to be so much fun, Bella. Magda Bianchon is so talented, and she’s going to make you the most beautiful dress.”
I force myself to smile because I don’t want to dampen her excitement. And right now, that seems more important than hating on some dress fitting.
“Oh shoot!” Arianna says, checking her watch. “I have a Zoom meeting in five minutes.”
“A Zoom meeting?” It suddenly occurs that I’ve been so busy fighting my situation I haven’t even bothered to learn anything about Arianna and what happened to her during those years between her being a shy tweenie and growing into a stunning woman. “For work?”
She nods. “I’m in high-end real estate, and I’m brokering a purchase for a client. He’s buying a castle.”
“How the hell do you buy a castle?”
She gives me a little curtsy. “Through me, of course.”
She leaves for her Zoom meeting, and I’m alone in my cell once again.
Bored, I look around the room for something to do. If I had my paints and canvases, I could use this time creatively. I could sketch or paint and get lost in my world of color and textures, and my time here would pass quickly and unnoticed.
My previous ransack of the room told me there was nothing other than books, and I’m all read out and feeling restless. I need to create, or I might just murder Nico out of sheer boredom the next time I see him.
I try the door and am surprised to find it unlocked.
Do not try to escape. Or there will be consequences.
