Chapter 5 Allegra
ALLEGRA
"Dear God, what's happening?" I mutter to myself, panic taking hold of me. The noise from the engine makes me flinch, and I jump up, banging my head into the trapdoor.
A quick glance at my watch tells me I overslept, and it's almost ten. God, I'm never going to make it back on time, am I? And the boat? Where is it going?
I slowly raise the trapdoor and sneak a peek on deck. It's almost dark outside, so I can't make out who's there. I squint when I see some movement, but when a figure moves toward me, I drop the door and curl into a fetal position.
"Please ignore me," I whisper, a prayer, hoping whoever it is won't find me. But that's the crux of the problem. If I don't tell them I'm on board, where will they take me? My eyes widen in realization. Who knows where the boat is going… and with me in it.
"God…" I say just as the trapdoor is snatched open, a flashlight glaring aggressively at me. I instinctively close my eyes; the light is too strong.
"And who might you be?" a harsh voice asks, the polished Sicilian accent surprising me. I slowly open one eye, then the other, my mouth forming an O as I stare into the most beautiful face I've ever seen in my life.
That should be illegal.
Even in the darkness of the night, I can make out the strong contours of his face, the chiseled cheekbones, and the sharp jaw.
His nose is straight, yet it seems to curve up slightly at the tip.
It suits the rest of him—imposing yet gentle.
But then there are his eyes, a deep shade of green that I have to blink twice to make sure it's not the artificial light playing tricks on my eyes.
I swallow hard, and as I continue my perusal, I feel something in my stomach. It's a ticklish feeling but not at all unpleasant. My eyes settle on his lips, so thick and full, and I lick my own in response.
He can't be real.
I repeat that to myself, because really, no one can look that beautiful. I may have had limited contact with outsiders, but even I can recognize perfection when I see it.
"Are you done staring, kiddo?" he asks, amused. His lips curl upward in a slight smile, and my heart reacts by beating in an odd rhythm.
"I… I'm sorry?"
He raises an eyebrow at me.
"For trespassing or for staring?"
I take a second to think, the conversation wholly outside my comfort zone.
"Both?" I ask tentatively, and he chuckles.
"Come," he says, extending his hand to me, and for some reason, I take it. "Let's get you up, and you can tell me what prompted you to stow away on my ship."
He pulls me up, and I struggle to hold on to my bag. As I step up, the book falls onto the ground, the cover with the naked man faceup. Mortification burns my cheeks as the man stoops down to pick it up.
"Interesting choice," he comments but doesn't return it to me.
He doesn't let go of my hand as he guides me down some stairs and into one of the most luxurious rooms I've ever seen.
My skin is tingling where it touches his, my small hand swallowed in his huge one.
And when he finally lets go, I feel bereft.
"Sit." He motions me toward a couch, and I do as I'm told. Maybe if I explain my circumstances, he will understand.
With that thought in mind, I watch as he settles into the chair across from me, his arms folded over his chest, the same amused expression still on his face.
And what a face.
I shake my head twice, trying to dispel those intrusive thoughts. The priority is to get back to the shore and pedal home.
"Want to tell me what a," he starts, his gaze scanning my form, "teenage boy is doing on my boat at this hour? Did you run away from home, kiddo?"
The moment the words register in my mind, I realize what he's seeing. A boy… a teenage boy. I sigh in relief, since I've heard that men aren't always kind to women. Lia's often told me that it's better to be sheltered than left alone in the world with no protection.
"I…" What should I even say? "I was playing hide-and-seek with some friends and I fell asleep." I quickly make up the lie, deepening my voice to sound like a boy.
"Hmm," he slaps the book on the table, "playing hide-and-seek, or just hiding so you could read that?" He looks at me expectantly, and I gulp, put on the spot.
"I was curious." I shrug.
He laughs, shaking his head.
"Don't be ashamed, kiddo. You're at that age," he pauses, a frown marring his features before changing the topic. "Your parents must be worried. Why don't you give them a call?" He takes a phone out of his pocket, throwing it at me. I barely catch it and stare at it in wonder.
I've never used a mobile phone before, but even so, I have no one to call.
"Erm… I don't know the number." More lies. "How far away are we from the shore? Can you turn the boat around? I parked my bike around the docks. I'll just go home right away." I plead with him with my eyes as I say this.
I don't even know what's going to happen to me. The guards may have already spotted me, and I clearly won't make it back by midnight as I'd promised Lia.
Lia! What will she think?
"We left the port thirty minutes ago," he pauses, gazing at me. "I wish I could help you, kiddo, but I'm on a schedule." He doesn't get to finish his words, as the sound of another engine seems to approach.
He mutters something as he stands up, going toward a window to look out. I immediately follow, and the moment I gaze out, I recognize Mario on the other boat.
"Please don't let them take me," my fingers grasp the material of his shirt and I tug slightly. He looks down at me, his expression inscrutable. His hand comes down on mine and he pries my fingers loose.
"Are you in danger?" he asks, and I can only nod, hoping he will help me. He's been nothing but kind to me so far.
"Don't worry." He pats me on my head, over my hat, before leaving the room.
Curiosity eats at me, and I run after him. I open the door and stick my head ever so slightly through the gap.
"What brings you here, gentlemen?" my savior asks, his voice holding a suave quality.
"The boy. We know he's here. The cameras caught him sneaking onto your boat."
"Boy? I haven't seen any boy. I think you're mistaken," he answers confidently.
"Then you won't mind us searching the boat, will you?" Mario asks, and for a moment I'm afraid I might have put the good man in danger.
"You?" the man asks after a pause, before laughing. "Do you know who I am?"
"We just want the kid," Mario continues, and I'm glad he hasn't blown my cover. But he can't admit who I am, not when it would mean my ruination.
"And I told you there's no boy here. You need to leave. Now." The man's voice has an edge to it, and I hope Mario does as he's told.
"Listen here, pretty boy, I'll only ask one more time. If not…" he trails off, and I hear a gun go off.
No!
What if he gets hurt because of me?
I open the door wider and am about to show myself when the man speaks, his words rooting me to the spot.
"And risk war with Agosti?" he asks, and Mario sputters.
"Agosti?" he repeats, sounding dumbfounded.
I frown at the unfamiliar name, but it seems to have an effect on Mario.
I stoop low and take a few steps, wanting to see what's happening.
"War with Agosti or the Marchesi have my head… I'd say it's about the same to me," Mario finally replies, raising his gun and aiming it at the man. He seems unbothered as he slowly shakes his head, laughing.
"You'd kill the Agosti heir? You must be very brave or…" he steps closer, fitting himself to the gun, "very stupid."
They seem to be engaged in a staring contest before Mario takes a step back, holstering his gun.
"This isn't over," he says, signaling the others to go. A few shushed words are exchanged between them before the other boat turns around and leaves.
When I see the man returning, I try to scramble back to the living room, but he's quick as he grabs me by my collar, raising me up so we're at eye level.
"Why would Marchesi be after you, kiddo?" His eyes glint dangerously in the moonlight, and fear grips me.
"I don't know," I say, hoping he will believe me.
"You don't know?" He smirks, turning around and taking me to the edge of the boat. My eyes widen, thinking he can't possibly…
His hand tightens on my shirt, and he raises me over the boat's railing. My feet are dangling in empty space, the sea staring threateningly at me from below.
"Did they send you to spy on me?"
"Please," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I'm petrified. Why would I spy on him? I don't even know him.
"Tell me the truth, and I'll let you go," he continues, his eyes cold and emotionless. It's like the man from before disappeared into thin air. The more I stare into his unfeeling eyes, the more I realize there's simply no way out of this. He will throw me over if I don't answer.
But what can I tell him? How much can I tell him?
"I… the Marchesi are my parents," I answer quickly, squeezing my eyes shut and hoping he'll be true to his word and let me go.
"There, see? It's possible to be truthful." He makes a tsk sound, and I open my eyes to see him smirking. "Go on," he urges me, but I just shake my head.
"That's it."
"I wonder…" He drifts off, his hand moving as he balances me from one side to the other, the threat of drowning looming closer and closer.
"Please," I whimper.
"Fine," he sighs in a bored manner. He brings me closer to the railing, and just as he's about to pull me to the other side, I hear a popping sound.
No!
Everything happens in slow motion. I watch in horror as the material of my shirt tears, a big chunk of it remaining in his hand. My mouth opens in a loud gasp, a cry for help that won't come out.
And I'm falling.
I break the surface of the water with a painful thud, and then I'm sinking.
I open my eyes, my limbs flailing around in an attempt to stay afloat, but nothing works.
I open my mouth again, trying to ask for help, hoping he'll hear me.
But water floods in from all directions.
There's a deafening silence as I fall lower and lower under the merciless assault of the waves. The more I struggle, the worse it gets.
Until I give up.
I look at the magnificent blue of the sea and tell myself that maybe it's not the worst way to go.
Somehow, I'm resigned.
But then, a mass of bubbles signals another presence, and my slowly deteriorating awareness notes strong arms holding on to me and hauling me back to the surface.
I come back with a sputter, water coming out of my mouth and nose, and I keep coughing it out.
"Easy, kiddo. I got you," he says, treading water with me in his arms until we reach the boat. He pushes me up a ladder, and I use all my remaining strength to climb up, collapsing on my back once I reach the deck.
"Hell, you scared me," he breathes heavily when he reaches my side, and I turn to look at him.
His eyes widen in shock, and his gaze moves from my face and my unbound hair to my body. I'm barely aware of what's happening, but I can tell something is wrong.
I look down and realize what he's seeing. What's left of the wet shirt is molded to my body, following the contour of my breasts, my nipples puckered from the cold and visibly straining against the material.