Chapter 3
Luci
W hen I stir, fuzzy memories of a strange dream I had appear. How did I get home last night? When did I get home last night? Maybe I drank too much and had to call Mamma or my grandparents to come pick me up. Unfortunately, now I have to face the three of them. Maybe if I keep my eyes closed, I’ll fall back asleep and then I won’t have to get lectured about drinking alone at a bar. I can imagine what they would all say.
“You should never go drinking alone, my Luci Girl,” my mamma, Caterina would say. “That’s how I got pregnant with you. And while you’re my greatest gift, I should have been safer.”
“Si,” my nonno, Aldo would say, scolding me. “You never know anyone’s intentions, especially men. They can be charming on the outside and have the wrong intentions on the inside.”
“Oh sweet Luci, don’t listen to your grumpy nonno,” my nonna, Stella would say. She is the sweetest and calmest out of the three. Also, the one I go to when I need advice. “All we want is for you to be safe.” Afterward, she would kiss me on the forehead and subtly remind me that I should eat breakfast before getting ready for the day.
I groan, deciding to get up and get the lecture over with before hopefully enjoying my weekend off. When I pry my eyes open, I know immediately that it’s still dark outside and this is not my room. It takes about two seconds for me to remember that I wasn’t dreaming. Instantly I jump out of bed, trying to figure out how to react.
Alessandro, the bar, flirting, walking me to my car. Oh no! He knew my name. How did he know my name? He drugged me. That’s not entirely true. Someone he knows drugged me. My voice squeaks as I sit down on the edge of the bed and yell, uncharacteristically cursing. “That son of a bitch!”
I know my next actions aren’t ladylike or remotely Catholic of me, but I need to find him. I need to get out of here. Screw Alessandro and screw his flirting. Stupid men. Nonno is right.
I glance out the window and notice I’m on the third floor of a large estate with . . . are those guards? Who is this man? When I decide jumping isn’t the best idea, I go with the obvious answer: the bedroom door. He should be in the house somewhere. I’m confident I could sneak out if I’m quiet enough. If I could sneak by Mamma and my grandparents in high school to go see my secret boyfriend, I could sneak by stupid Alessandro. I settle my nerves, finding the courage to open the door, but it’s locked. Of course, it’s locked. From the outside? Seriously?
From here, my only option is to pound on the door, screaming for someone to let me out. When the door opens, I’m face to chest with a man who’s larger than the one who drugged me. Why is everyone Alessandro knows massive?
The large man in front of me doesn’t speak but crosses his arms, filling the doorway. Not that it’s hard.
I copy his movement, except compared to him I’m as terrifying as a puppy with my short frame. “Excuse me. I need to get out of here. Wherever here is.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Luciana. Boss’s orders to keep you in your bedroom.” It’s annoying with how official he is. Hold on. What does he mean by boss?
I stand there, arms still crossed, as I lean into one hip. It’s risky to get an attitude with a man almost a foot and a half taller than me, but there’s no backing down now. “Why not? You know, kidnapping is against the law. It’s in your best interest to let me out before you get arrested.”
He scoffs at my statement “We don’t need to be worried about getting arrested. Now, it’s pretty late. You should get some rest.” He shuts the door in my face, cutting off any response I could have.
Who does Alessandro think he is? He flirts with me, drugs me, kidnaps me, and now has me guarded while he takes his sweet time talking to me. Oh, no, no, no! That’s not how this goes. Anger envelops me while I pick up a pillow from the bed, throwing it at the door while screaming. Is this ladylike? No. Do I care? No. Alessandro may assume he can keep me as a prisoner and I won’t escape, but I won’t give up that easily.
I pace around the room, devising a plan to get me out of here when it hits me. If the room is destroyed, they’ll have to move me to a different space. That would give me a chance to run.
I shouldn’t stoop to this level. On the other hand, it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. My fingers hold the crucifix on my necklace, hesitating, knowing this isn’t the right thing to do. “The Lord our God is merciful and forgiving, even though we have rebelled against him. Sorry, God.”
Before I can talk myself out of it, I swipe everything off the desk, a few things breaking in the process. A heavy bookend catches my attention when I hurl it at the cheval mirror, and a cracked spiderweb pattern covers the once beautiful object. I whip around and grab the pillows and sheets from the bed, stripping the bed down to the mattress and tossing the remaining pillows in different directions. The last pillow catches on the elegant painting hung on the wall, ripping it down as the frame breaks. The nightstands are the last thing that remains in the same shape it was when I woke up. These lamps are fragile and old, but it's too late to back down.
I have the bedside lamp in my hand when I hear a man yelling and heavy footsteps from the hallway, his voice escalating as he gets closer. The door swings open as Alessandro angrily barges in, rushing at me.
With incredible strength, he grabs my arm, holding me in place. “What in the entire fuck are you doing?” After seeing the deranged expression in his eyes, I think that maybe this wasn’t the best idea.