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I exit into a hallway, only to discover the bedroom is on a mezzanine floor. I shuffle a few feet forward to look down at the sprawling open-concept living space below. With a quick glance right, I pivot left and head for the grand staircase.
The bedsheet hampers my descent, but I hit the white marble floor running.
A beautiful brunette in a short white uniform is vacuuming. I pivot right and avoid her, thankful the noise muffles my footsteps. Up ahead, the living room transitions into an enormous kitchen. Beyond that a pair of French doors hopefully lead out of here.
I’m racing by a massive island with an expensive marble countertop when the sheet tightens around my body and I’m brought to an abrupt stop. I’m jerked backward hard, and my heart kicks into a wild tempo.
No. No, no, no, no. I struggle like a caterpillar inside a cocoon. Until the sheet goes slack and I break free, staggering forward on wobbly feet.
Someone slams into me from behind, pitching me sideways and tackling me onto the cold tile, in the space between the island and refrigerator.
I wiggle and worm beneath the mafioso’s weight.
Is he one of the six men who kidnapped me? Wait, five men—the kid, Guido, was murdered.
The thought invigorates my efforts to escape.
But within seconds, his chest presses into my back and I’m pinned in place.
I’m completely, utterly at his mercy.
“Please,” I beg. “I can’t breathe …”
“Move an inch, and I’ll spank you. Nod if you understand.”
His husky warning sends a shudder up my spine. And his voice …
Hurried footsteps approach and stop directly behind us. “Fucking hell, Sandro. I was on break. I’ll find out who was assigned to her and how she escaped.”
The man on top of me stiffens.
Oh holy hell. The mafioso boss everyone’s terrified of has me crushed beneath him and at his mercy. He ordered them to kidnap me, didn’t he? To bring me to his home? The beautiful fixtures. Housekeeping. Men guarding the place. It has to be. But why not kill me? Why go through the trouble of kidnapping me?
“Clear the room.”
“Don’t … um … hurt her,” the guard says. His voice sounds familiar … they both do …
“I’ll speak to you later.”
The guard leaves, his footsteps echoing across the tile.
“Don’t leave me with him,” I call out to my only ally.
“Not another word, little liar,” the mob boss growls. “Capisci?”
His voice.
No. No way. It can’t be.
“Good girl.” Him, inside my apartment.
“A couple spoonfuls.” Him feeding me applesauce.
“Say my name. Alessandro.” Him, corrupting me.
He’s not only mafioso … he’s the boss.
Alessandro Beneventi.
