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I reach the end of the hall, heading to the East Wing of the house, where my new guest is residing. It takes a couple more sets of stairs before I reach the top floor, which used to be my parents’ wing. Ironic that this is its purpose now, to house someone they would have given their lives to know about. To exploit and use in a way that they could gain more power.
Isn’t that what you’re doing?
I ignore that. I am well aware of my faults, and I also know how fucked up this whole thing is. The difference is, I don’t give a damn. I don’t know who she is for certain yet, so until I do, she’s nothing more than a curiosity, and someone who I clearly need to work on getting out from under my skin. As much as I see her as belonging to me, my entire goal is to get sick of her before dumping her somewhere far away from me, or sold to someone who wants a meek little wife.
Something dark and dangerous moves through me at that thought, and I curse softly to myself. Even now the idea of someone else having her makes me murderous. It needs to stop before I do something stupid. Still, if she is one of the De Lucas’ daughters, she will be the key in making sure that I get exactly what I want. My personal bargaining chip.
When I reach the large double doors at the end of the hall, I carefully open them, pleased they don’t make a single sound. I don’t want to alert the woman to my presence. I slip into the darkened room, the only light from the dim lamp in the corner, casting shadows along the floor and to the edge of the bed where she lays, still curled up.
I glance around the room, realizing that I haven’t really looked at it in a long time. The room is spacious, with space for a window seat, a sitting area, and a make-up vanity just outside the bathroom. Above me is a large loft, full of books and an office, with another window seat overlooking the back garden and street area. My mother was an avid reader, though I have no idea what kind of books are up there. I glance over at the dark, ornate curved staircase, but then ignore the idea and focus back on the woman in the large four-poster King-sized bed.
The bed is as ornate and gothic as the rest of the room. With a large, intricately carved headboard that is mounted to the wall, and reaches all the way up to the ceiling. It sits between two tall windows, though no light is coming in due to the privacy coverings over them. As I make my way around to the right side of the bed where my little mouse is sleeping, my feet make no sound, the noise absorbed by the large, thick rug. Finally, when I’m standing beside her, I look down at her, taking my time as my eyes move over her.
This close, I can smell the sweet scent of whatever soap she used in her bath, and it makes me want to rip off the blanket and press my nose to her skin, to see if she smells like this everywhere. My traitorous cock hardens at the thought, but I ignore it. Instead, I focus on the pinch of her mouth, and the soft sound she’s making as she tries to fight the drugs in her system. At best guess, I probably have another ten minutes. Maybe sooner if she has a strong fighting instinct. And something tells me she does.
As I stare at her, I wonder if she is one of the De Luca’s daughters. I take in her features, her dark hair, and recall the brown of her eyes. Her skin is olive color, which speaks of possible Italian descent, and my gut is telling me that she is indeed a De Luca. But the question is how can I make sure that she falls in line with my plans.
It probably makes me a bastard to use her in such a way, but no one has ever said I was a good man. Nor do I want to be. I enjoy the finer things in life, and the power I have. I like knowing that one day I’ll have made myself even better and bigger than my father ever dreamed. And if this woman is my key to that, then so be it.
She makes another small sound of pain, and I pause, waiting. Will she wake up and see me standing here? Thinking I’m some kind of monster that’s come here to devour her in the dark? A small trickle of amusement shoots through me at that thought. Because I’m all those things, and once I finally get past my obsession with her, well, I won’t have any further use of her. But that’s a thought for another time. For now, I need her to wake up, tell me who she is, and then see what she does when she realizes there is no escape.
I look around the room again. It’s a pretty cage, with everything she could want. Well, other than her freedom. There are far worse cages for someone like her to be in. It will be interesting to see her reaction. Will she fight to get out? Will she scream and cry? Or will she sit silent, waiting?
Something tells me this sweet looking creature is far more clever than people think. Though, thinking back at how she looked at me, terror in her eyes, maybe that is what she wants people to believe. Maybe she is truly weak, and I’ll grow tired of her quickly enough.
A thought that should make me happy, but instead pisses me off. Once again, she is making me think and feel confusing things. I need to get away from her, get back to work, and focus on more important things. I stare at her for another moment, before moving away from the bed, and heading for the door. I’ll send someone to see to her when she wakes up.
Just as I reach the door, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, and when I see the message, I hold back a triumphant smile. It looks like I have Leonardo’s daughter in my midst. Based on the picture of her mother, she’s the spitting image of her. I almost want to be around when he finds out she’s gone. Because he’ll never find her, and my little mouse will never see him again if I don’t wish it to happen.
With that sense of triumph, and the urge to get my plans in place, I send a text to Dante to meet me in my office. It’s time to get things underway, and to figure out how big of a war we’re going to create. I look back at the woman on the bed, before I leave, locking the door behind me.
CHAPTER6
Gia
I knowI’m not in my own bed before I even open my eyes. I screw them shut, curling in on myself as I try to remember what happened. I remember my father coming, Marco hitting me, and taking a bath but then nothing. Did I drown and someone rescued me? No, that’s not possible. My father won’t care if I’m dead. He’s locking me away for a couple of months, after all. So where am I?
I slowly, carefully, open my eyes, only to find myself in a darkened room, shadows covering everything except for a dim light from a large lamp in the corner. Fear strikes me, but I tamp it down, knowing better than to show it. I need to be calm, keep my wits about me. Slowly, I look to the other side of the room. I can barely make out an open door, and possibly a mirror just outside it.
I turn my head back and close my eyes, taking in deep calming breaths. I assess myself, and realize I still have on the robe I was wearing at home. I frown, moving my hands under the blankets and over my body, checking for anything that doesn’t feel right. The only aches and pains I have are in my head, ribs, and stomach. But I don’t feel sore between my legs, so that must mean that I wasn’t assaulted, right? No, better not to think about that right now. Now I need to figure out where I am, and how to get away.
Slowly, I push myself up into a seated position, making sure to keep my hand on my robe so it doesn’t fall open. I feel exposed and I hate it. Though that’s probably exactly what my kidnappers want. They want me afraid, and uncomfortable. Well, unlucky for them, I’ve been that way most of my life, and I can handle it far better than most.
I scoot to the edge of the bed, getting to my feet and biting back a groan when my head swims and my ribs throb. I stand still, waiting for it to pass, and then I carefully turn and feel around until I find a switch for the lamp on the nightstand. Once it’s on, I can see a bit more of the room, and I gasp.
It’s as big as my apartment, if not more. I don’t think, outside my father’s area of his house, that I’ve ever seen something so grand. Almost ostentatious in how luxurious and elaborate it all is. Still, even with all of that, I know this is the last place I want to be. I move around the room, slowly, carefully, until I find the light switch near the large—but locked—double doors. Turning around and staring at it all in the light.
Whoever lives here has money. A lot of it. But there’s an undercurrent of danger here. Something that’s lurking in the corners of the room makes me shiver. I look around again, not seeing any cameras, but I have a feeling whoever has taken me is watching. I move away from the door, heading for the open doorway on the left side of the room, stopping just inside as I turn on the light. I’m not surprised to find a luxurious bathroom, complete with large glass shower, intricate wood vanity with double sinks, but it’s the large clawfoot tub beside the huge, ornate windows and a small ledge just beneath them where there are some fancy looking candles.
I feel like I’m in some kind of castle or something out of medieval times, and while normally that would thrill me, now, it scares me. Who the hell lives in a place like this? I move further into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me. I look around the room and see a chair in the corner near the tub, and I pull it over to prop it under the doorknob. That way no one can come in here and catch me by surprise.
I move around the room, taking it in, until I find another door on the left side of the room, closer to the shower, that leads into a very large walk-in closet. The lights come on automatically as I step inside. It’s full of all kinds of shelves, rods, and even a large island in the middle with drawers all around it. At my five-four height, I’m barely a head taller than it, and a plush bench that looks like you could lay on it and have a good nap sits along the side of it.
And is that a black chandelier in the middle of the room?
I move to the island, curiosity getting the best of me, even as I note all the clothes hanging on the racks and the shoes sitting on the shelves. The first drawer I pull out is full of sparkling jewelry. Gold, silver, diamonds, rubies, it all gleams back up at me. Holy shit. Who needs all of that? I quickly close the drawer and open the one below it. More jewels. The next two drawers are full of jewels, and one has fancy watches and even a couple of tiaras. Who the hell lives here? A queen?
I move around to open the others. Some are full of underwear, bras, and socks, while some are filled with fancy looking lingerie, and even some silky pajamas. My head is spinning once I finish examining them all, and I force myself to turn away and look around for something that I can pull on. Something that will cover me from head to toe and leave me feeling less vulnerable.
