Chapter 2 #2
“I didn’t go either. I was really looking forward to it and all the parties and fun stuff that were being organised for it, but I came down with the flu the day we were supposed to travel to Accardiano.
How unfair is that? Still, at least I didn’t have to see my uncle dying in the church.
” Lorenzo Esposito, the most powerful man in Italy, had suffered a fatal cardiac arrest minutes after discovering his daughter had been jilted at the altar. “Did you know him well?”
“Well enough.”
“I didn’t. I only saw him for big family events that he insisted we go along to. My parents couldn’t say no, what with him paying for our home and stuff, but they never wanted to go. They were always worried that one of us would be abducted. Ironic, right?”
“The only ironic thing is that you’ve lived long enough to be abducted.”
“That’s not what ironic means, Mr Vicario.”
He sighed. “I know. I’m just amazed no one has drowned you.”
“I’m sure Artu would love to drown me. Normally I save my annoying behaviour for him because he’s an arsehole, but I’ve never had to actively work at being continuously annoying like I am now.
It will be a challenge keeping it up for a whole week, but as a lowlife gangster said only an hour ago, nothing ventured, nothing gained. ”
“And what do you hope to gain by being a complete pain in the arse?” he asked roughly.
“Let me think… No, I can’t think of anything other than having some fun at your expense.”
He’d twisted his body and put his face right in hers before he could stop himself. “Just because I cannot physically harm you does not mean there aren’t ways I can damage you, so do not push me.”
“And how are you going to damage me if you can’t touch me?
” she asked without a shred of fear. “Lock me in a dark room? Put headphones on me and force me to listen to screaming babies? I’m not afraid of the dark, and I can tune sound out…
” She smiled. “That’s what you need to learn.
How to tune out noise. I would offer to teach you, but then I’d lose all my fun. ”
“You have a very warped idea of fun.”
“So I’m learning.” She inched her face forward so they were eyeball-to-eyeball. “Who knew being kidnapped could be so much fun? And to think, our fun’s only just starting.”
Francesca stopped torturing Gino when they reached Milan.
She’d spent the last hour explaining in minute detail the plot of the crime series she was currently reading, very much enjoying his rigid body language as he tried to ignore her, but the lights of the big city at night were just too spectacular for her not to want to soak it all in.
“It’s beautiful,” she commented, awed as she glimpsed the Duomo in the distance.
“And look at all the people…” The streets were bustling with groups and couples out for the night, the energy strong enough for her to reach out and touch.
Everyone looked so stylish and glamorous, too.
Francesca had always longed to be stylish, especially when in the presence of her effortlessly chic cousin Siena.
“Can we go shopping while I’m here?” she asked, keeping her face virtually pressed to the window.
“No.”
It was the first response she’d had since she’d started boring him with book plots.
“What am I going to wear?”
“What you’re wearing now.”
“Then you will have to put up with my stink when I begin to fester.”
She heard his exasperated intake of breath and smiled to herself, a smile that widened when his driver pulled up in front of high, electric gates cut in an arch through a spectacular period building.
The gates opened slowly, and then they were driving through them and into a large courtyard with a lit-up fountain centrepiece.
She was trying to discern what the statue in the fountain was when they entered a large garage so brightly lit that she blinked to clear her eyes of the glare.
Four other cars were already parked in there.
None of them was anything like her little Fiat, so she couldn’t guess what they were other than clearly expensive.
The driver opened her door, and as she stepped out, three heavily armed men emerged from a hidden door.
Gino and the two lackies he’d kidnapped her with spoke briefly with the new men, all six of them continuously glancing her way.
She supposed that was because they were talking about her, or maybe it was because they could feel the death stares she was openly giving them.
They deserved her death stares. Even if they hadn’t all conspired to kidnap her, she didn’t doubt they were all conspiring to ensure her family couldn’t rescue her.
After a few minutes of talk, Gino put his eye to a screen by what she guessed was an elevator, then caught her eye and beckoned her with his head.
She made no effort to move.
The elevator door opened.
He beckoned her again.
She folded her arms over her chest.
His handsome features tightened. “Come, Miss Marino.”
“Oh, you want me to come with you?” She bestowed him with her sweetest smile and sprang towards him. “You should have said.”
Francesca had been on the receiving end of filthy looks before, usually from her brother, but never one that made her feel she should drop down dead from it.
Laughing, she zipped past him into the elevator.
His entire body taut with restrained temper, he joined her and stabbed the top of only two buttons.
“It’s hard to believe you’re the same man who kidnapped me with such suave politeness,” she said cheerfully as the doors closed them in. “Have you ever considered anger management?”
He met her stare through the mirrored door. “Have you ever considered sewing your mouth together?”
“It must infuriate you that you can’t do it yourself.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
She grinned. “You’re very big, aren’t you?
” She’d been aware of his size from the first glance, but only now, viewing them side-by-side, did she appreciate just how great the discrepancy between them was.
Francesca had inherited her mother’s shortness, whereas Gino had to be at least as tall as her male Esposito cousins. She didn’t even reach his shoulder.
“And you’re small enough for me to stuff in a box,” he growled.
The elevator stopped. The door opened into a small room where two more heavily armed men were waiting for them. On the table were thermos flasks and plastic boxes she guessed were filled with food. There was also a large open laptop, the screen filled with images of the building’s perimeter.
After exchanging a few words with the men, her kidnapper put his eye to the screen by the steel door. It swung open. He extended an arm. “After you,” he said to her.
Too excited to see the interior to bother winding him up again, Francesca skipped through the door and found herself in a gorgeously opulent apartment.
Ignoring the two armed men guarding the interior, she cut through to a large living area. Turning slowly, she took in the French doors, the abundance of high sash windows and spectacular views, the high ceiling and the masculine luxury seeping through it all. “Wow. And they say crime doesn’t pay.”
“My nightclubs are the most exclusive in Europe.”
“No need to be defensive, Mr Vicario. The house I live in is paid for with the proceeds of crime.” Heading through a wide arch, she found herself in a glorious dining room, another arch taking her to a smaller living room.
Strangely, she was very much aware of Gino silently following her through his home in a way she hadn’t been when confined beside him in the cabin of his car.
Her senses seemed to have tuned in to his footsteps, his breaths, his very presence, and suddenly she found herself in need of fresh air and turned the handle of the nearest French door.
The balcony looked incredibly inviting, but the door wouldn’t open.
“It’s locked,” he intoned.
“Can you unlock it?”
“And risk you trying to escape?”
“I don’t have a death wish.”
“Sure about that?”
“Quite sure. Also, I’m sure I’ve already mentioned my allergy to pain.
” Turning her head, she smiled up at his set, handsome face.
“I enjoy life, Mr Vicario, and I enjoy the body I inhabit. I like to feel the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. I like to dance. I like to hear music. I like the smell of books, flowers in bloom, freshly mown grass and grapes being crushed. I like the warmth that fills my chest and the fuzziness that fills my head from a glass of wine. I like knowing I’ve got my whole life ahead of me to enjoy more of these things and to learn and experience new scents and sensations, and I will never deliberately do anything that could stop my future unfolding as I so hope.
If the worst happens and my cousin fails to comply with your demands and you then decide you have to kill me, at least I will have had this last week fully whole, fully myself and with all my senses working in harmony.
So no. Dying is the last thing I want for me. ”
A long silence followed Francesca’s little speech. The gorgeous dark chocolate eyes studied her speculatively until he gave a tight smile. “Wine makes your head fuzzy?”
She beamed.
“Then let’s open a bottle.”