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Neither of us say anything as we glare at each other. So much for acting cool and collected. Finally he demands, “Care to tell me why you were in the closet?” When I don’t answer, his eyes narrow at me. “Do not make me ask you again,topolina, or you really will not like my response.”
I know he’s not bluffing, but still, I don’t answer. I almost want to see what he’s going to do. Knowing your enemy’s responses is the way to figure out how to avoid them in future, or in my case, give me an advantage to escape.
When I stay silent, his jaw clenches, and he leans down, bracing his clenched fists on the bed so that our faces are only a few inches apart. I feel caged in, and my heart pounds at how close he is to me. And my senses are on overdrive from the dark and smoky aftershave or cologne. I had no idea that smells from someone could make you lose yourself, but with this man, I guess that’s the case.
I’m jolted back to reality when he growls, “Last chance.”
I blame the fact that he’s completely overwhelmed my senses as I blurt out, “Are you always this obsessed with your prisoners and their sleeping habits? Or is it just me? And I think it’s really creepy that you have cameras watching me all the time. Ever heard of privacy?” I immediately want to yank back my words and internally curse myself for saying anything at all.
He blinks once, then twice, before he grits out, “Like you said, you’re my captive, which means you get nothing, not even privacy, unless I allow it. Maybe now you’ll know not to disobey me when you know I’m watching you. As for your sleeping habits, well, everything about you is my prerogative, isn’t it, Ms. De Luca? Perhaps I have plans for you that don’t involve you being so exhausted that you fall asleep at the worst time.” His lips pull up into a cold, callus smile. “Worried I’ll catch you doing something you shouldn’t be,topolina?”
“Stop calling me that,” I bite out, “I’m not your little anything.”
“Again, you forget that you are not in charge here, Ms. De Luca,” he replies, uncaring. “And if you don’t want me to call you that, then perhaps you should start by telling me your name.”
I glare at him stubbornly, clearly any idea of being cool and collected flying out the window. My name is my current ace in the hole and I don’t plan on letting him know what it is without a fight. “You haven’t told me yours either.”That's it, Gia, just keep on pushing him. That’s a great way to get out of here.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t get any angrier. Instead, his eyes flash with amusement, and he eases back ever so slightly. Not enough for me to squeeze by or get away, but enough that I have a little more breathing room. “Then I guess we’re at a stand still,topolina. Because until you tell me your name a I’ll get to call you whatever I wish.”
I stare at him.
“Unless your parents named you something hideous, then I won’t be using it anyways,” he says casually, easing back just a little further. If I can get him to move back just a bit more, maybe I can kick him or something and get to the door. “So how about you tell me and I’ll leave you to get some sleep?” He sounds perfectly reasonable, like he’s just any other man and not someone holding me here against my will.
I’ll give him that if this was any other situation I might consider it, but I’m not so far gone that I can’t see what he’s trying to do. “Not until I get your name first,” I tell him evenly. I carefully shift, easing back and away from him, hopeful he doesn’t notice.
“I think you’re forgetting you’re not in the position to bargain,topolina,” he reminds me drily. “Though I admire your—”
I burst into action, catching him off guard. I bring up my leg quickly, catching him in the side of the head, making him grunt and stagger slightly. I scramble back and jump over the footboard running for the door as fast as my legs can carry me. I reach it, twisting the knob and throwing it open. I hear him curse and run after me, his feet pounding on the floor, even as I race from the room and down the darkened hallway. Even in the bright light of day this place casts shadows.
I run as fast as my legs can carry me. Fear and determination war as I rush down the hall to the top of the steps. I don’t even slow down as I rush down the few steps that lead to the wing, and then grip the railing of the main set heading to the main floor, throwing myself over it and using the momentum to slide down the old, wide wooden banister. I glance up as I hit the bottom to see him rushing down the steps after me, his face a thundercloud.
I turn and run down the long corridor, covered in pictures and paintings on both sides. The carpets are old and dark red with gold throughout, but the only thing I care about is that it softens the sound of my running. A part of me is a bit surprised that my captor hasn’t called in his guards, but maybe he doesn’t like the blow to his ego letting it be known that I made my escape.
When I reach the end of the corridor, I find a hallway that extends in both directions. I make a left, though I nearly run into a shocked cleaning woman, who jumps back and out of my way as I race away.
No one stops me, they only stare as I pass by. I don’t bother stopping to ask for help. They’re all loyal to him, and it will only give them a chance to stop me. It’s only when I hit the end of this long hallway that I realize the goddamn house is a maze. I try to orient myself from the light through the windows, but with everything so damn dark and the shadows everywhere, it’s not that simple.
I look down both halls quickly, and finally decide to try the right this time, but skid to a stop when my captor suddenly steps out from one of the rooms, right in front of me. I whirl to go back the other way, but he grabs me by my braid and yanks me back against him, making me yelp in pain. Still I struggle, but he pulls my head back further and wraps an arm around my waist, holding me tight to his body. “Enough,” he growls in my ear, using my braid to turn my head toward him so I can stare into his eyes. I see some anger, but also something else that I can’t quite figure out.
Something that makes my heart pound even harder and my body quiver in his grip. I struggle again, but still when he tightens and moves his arms up around my ribs, making me whimper in pain. “Now,” he says silkily in my ear, “as fun as this little game of cat and mouse has been, I’m done playing and have no more time or patience for it. Consider yourself lucky I’m lenient where you are concerned, Ms. De Luca. But try it again, and you will not like the consequences. So are you going to walk calmly and quietly back to your room, or do I have to drag you there?” I say nothing, staring at him defiantly. “My choice then.”
He quickly loosens the hold on my ribs, spins me around, making me hiss at the pulling on my hair, and then drops his hand from it, before he leans down and throws me over his shoulder. This position is killing my ribs and stomach, but I force myself to stay as still as possible. “Damn it, Giulia, should have hit him harder,” I mutter quietly under my breath.
I study my surroundings, looking for any details that I need to remember for the next time I try to escape. Because this is not a one and done deal. He caught me this time, but next time, I’ll be much more careful.
I try to look down the other hallways as we pass by them, but again, I see nothing but walls of doors, paintings, and windows. All casting dark shadows and obscuring the view of what lies beyond. It’s beyond frustrating to know that no matter where you go, you’re going to get lost, and apparently, the man carrying me has some tricks up his sleeves because how the hell did he get to that hallway before me?
Suddenly, it hits me like a ton of bricks. There really are secret passageways in this place just like my father’s home. That’s the only explanation. Which means that there might be another way out of here for me if I can find one of those passageways.
My determination builds and I carefully look at everything as we go by. Father had the passageways built so that you couldn’t see them as you walked by, or behind something that wouldn’t seem obvious. Nothing stands out to me as we pass, but now that I’m on the lookout, I’ll be checking my room more thoroughly.
But how am I going to do that without my captor finding out what I’m doing? Especially if he’s watching me? That’s something to figure out later I guess. For now, I need to focus on the fact that we’re almost back to my room, and I have no idea what he’s going to do once we get there. A small ball of dread settles in my stomach, but at the same time, my mind reminds me that if he decides to beat me, it can’t be any worse than what my own family has done.
When we reach my prison, he kicks open the door, walks inside, and boots it shut with his foot, though he doesn’t stop walking until he’s at the bed, and then flings me off his shoulder and onto it. I bounce a couple of times, making me groan at the pain that shoots through me, but it’s short lived before he grabs me by the shoulders, hauling me further up the bed, so that my head suddenly finds itself resting on the pillow. I barely have time to register that though, before he clamps a hand on my left wrist and uses his free hand to pull the tie from around his neck.
I have never seen a man able to do that one-handed before, and for some reason, it captivates me. Which is why I don’t struggle when I should. Once he pulls it from around his neck, he wraps it securely around my wrist, the soft silk of the tie keeping it from chaffing, and then he secures it tightly to the bed frame. I narrow my eyes at it, flexing my wrist to test it, but it doesn’t budge. I lift my gaze to him, where he now stands tall, smirking down at me. “Perhaps now you’ll stay put,” he says silkily.
I don’t bother struggling anymore. Instead I just stare at him calmly.
