10. A Good Little Hostage
CHAPTER 10
A GOOD LITTLE HOSTAGE
A ntonio
The familiar scent of leather and polished wood greets me as I step onto the private jet I hired for this little excursion. It’s likely an extravagance I shouldn’t have indulged in given the precarious state of the business, but with my prized tesoro in tow, I didn’t have any other option.
Even with a sprained or possibly broken ankle, not to mention the handcuffs I was forced to use to restrain her, Serena doesn’t stop fighting. I find it oddly endearing. The woman has fire, and a mouth that would seem more appropriate on a puttana on the streets of Napoli. I watch my new hostage as Ottavio, whose eye is still bleeding, drags her onto the plane. She’s kicking and scratching him, more feral animal than female.
And fuck, if it doesn’t make my dick hard.
What is it about this woman?
I sink into the plush leather seats across from the polished mahogany tables which shine under soft ambient lighting. The hum of luxury and relaxation is shattered by the screams and curses coming from my newest guest.
I huff out a breath and drag my fingers through my hair. “There’s no point in fighting him, Serena. You’ll only hurt yourself.”
Her eyes are wild, the brilliant sapphire ablaze with fury. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I did a damned good job hurting good old Otto.” She twists her head back and tosses my scowling colleague a shit-eating grin. His bloody left eye is bandaged, the right one bruised but still functioning.
She’s not wrong. The man may lose his eye from those lethal tongs. At least now, I’ve learned never to underestimate Serena Valentino.
With a growl, Otto shoves her toward the seat beside me. She trips, her bad ankle faltering and she barely gets her hands out in time before her face slams into the back of the seat.
A jab of unexpected fury lances through my insides as I see her fall. “Enough, bastardo ,” I snarl as I leap up and curl my fingers around his throat. “That’s the last time you lay a hand on her.”
“But, capo ?—”
“I don’t want to hear it. She is to be treated with the respect a woman deserves. From now on, no one touches her but me. Capisci ?”
My fingers tighten until he finally nods reluctantly. I release him and stalk back to my seat. Serena is curled into the supple leather, her gaze shooting daggers as I slide past to sit beside her.
Once I’m settled in, I pivot to face my new captive. “Let me see your ankle.” At least I could wrap it, like I did Otto’s eye.
“ Vaffanculo ,” she hisses, folding her arms around her legs and turning so that her back faces me. Go fuck yourself .
“I see that went well.” Pietro appears from the back of the jet, and a woman scurries out behind him. His dark curly hair falls in messy tangles across his forehead, and the redheaded flight attendant has that just-been-fucked look about her. She lowers her gaze as she zips by and disappears behind the curtain to the cockpit.
My righthand man saunters down the aisle, stopping just in front of Serena, a stupid smile on his face.
“Do you really think that ”—I tick my head toward the cockpit— “was the best use of your time and mine?”
“Sorry, capo . You took longer than I expected—” His words fall away as his gaze wanders toward Otto. “What the hell happened to you?”
“I happened,” Serena grits out. “And you’ll be next if your capo doesn’t release me at once!”
A deep chuckle vibrates Pietro’s barrel chest. “She seems feisty. Maybe we should have stuck with the original target.”
Serena’s head whips in my direction, her eyes smoldering with rage. “The original target?” she hisses.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Pietro, state zitto ! Can’t you keep your mouth shut?”
“Who?” Serena glares at me, eyes narrowed, fingers clutching the armrest between us.
I see it the moment she realizes the answer. All the fight in her eyes vanishes, her entire body deflating.
“Isabella…” she whispers. “You were going to take my cousin.”
“This isn’t about you,” I grumble, unsure why I feel the necessity to explain. “It’s about my family business, my father’s honor and the way my brother pissed all over it for her .”
“Let’s just go,” she mutters. “I swear I’ll be a good little hostage. Get the plane in the air or whatever the hell your plan is. You’ve got me, so now let’s get the hell out of here so we can get the negotiations rolling.” She reaches for the folded-up blanket on the seat and drapes it across her scandalous romper.
I gape at her for a long moment, caught completely off guard by this sudden change in demeanor. What happened to the feisty, spirited woman jabbing tongs at my men and jumping out of moving vehicles?
“You heard her,” I bark at Pietro. “Tell the captain we’re ready for departure.”
Despite the metal cuffs and Serena’s reassurances, I don’t dare close my eyes the entire flight. She sleeps beside me, chair stretched out so that it lays totally flat. Her breaths come in soft, measured intervals, her chest slowly rising and falling. Apparently, someone is completely at ease in my presence. I’m not certain if I should be insulted or flattered.
I should be content. In the grand scheme of things, my mission was a success. I have Serena and, in a few hours, once we land, I’ll contact Dante and if everything I’ve heard about the man and his love for his daughter is true, I should have the Ferrara territory whole once again within the week.
Then why the fuck does the victory feel hollow?
Serena murmurs something in her sleep, and I inch closer, that voice, even now, waking something raw and primal deep within my core. “No,” she whimpers, her expression darkening. “Not Bella… anyone but her.” Tears fall, stealing down her cheeks, and my insides twist. “Take me instead, just leave her alone.”
She continues to whisper, to plead and with every passing moment, that guilt squeezes my gut tighter. I’d always heard the Valentinos were close, but to prefer to give up her own life for her cousin? It’s completely unexpected.
They’re not even sisters…
My thoughts whirl back to a time when I had two fratelli , two brothers that I would do anything for. When the hell had our relationship gotten so fucked up?
Papà .
The answer comes from that dark voice in the furthest recesses of my mind, the one I refuse to accept. Our father had broken our bond long ago. Even Giuseppe and I weren’t close, not really, not when it counted.
Serena shifts beside me, drawing my attention away from my muddled past. Her eyes slowly open, meeting mine. The moment of shock passes quickly, the haze of sleep vanishing as she takes in her surroundings. Papà often pitted us against each other, dangling the business’ fortune over our heads. Though I was his enforcer, his heir, he often insinuated given the right circumstances Giuseppe could steal it all from my grasp.
Now I often found myself wishing my brother was still here. I’d hand it all over to him happily.
“Dammit, I was hoping it was all a bad dream,” she mutters, drawing me away from thoughts of the past.
“Hate to disappoint you, tesoro .” My lips slide into a smile, unbidden.
Her bound hands pop up from beneath the blanket as she runs slender fingers through her disheveled hair, revealing angry red skin ringing her wrists beneath the metal. Another twinge of guilt rears up. I could uncuff her… There’s nowhere to go here and given her familiarity with guns, she wouldn’t be stupid enough to start a midair shootout.
“I have to pee.” She presses the button on the leather seat, and it adjusts until she’s sitting upright, matching my pose. “Are hostages allowed bathroom time or what?”
I nod and slowly rise, my legs stiff after six hours of little movement. “This way.” I tick my head toward the door in the back which boasts a full bedroom and second bathroom. I can’t explain why I don’t take her to the bathroom in the front, which everyone else uses. I tell myself it’s because it’s too close to the cockpit, and I’m afraid she’ll try something desperate.
Even though it’s only now I’m beginning to truly understand her sudden compliance. She wanted me far away from her precious Isabella. What the hell is it about that girl? First my brother and now this…
She trails behind me, moving slowly even though she’s shed those sexy heels, and from the corner of my eye, I note she barely puts any weight on her right foot. Cazzo , I hope it’s not broken. Dealing with Dante will be difficult enough, but explaining a broken ankle? I have no intention of torturing the girl, not that I haven’t done it to men before, but the idea of physically hurting a woman makes me sick to my stomach.
“You don’t trust me to pee by myself?” Serena’s bright eyes lift to mine as I motion through the mahogany doors into the bedroom.
“I’m not going in with you, tesoro . I’ll simply wait outside.”
She eyes the bed, the lavish sheets and her eyes darken for an instant. That look alone has a direct link to my cock. Clearing my throat and my mind of the completely inappropriate thoughts, I open the bathroom door.
She hobbles inside before spinning around with a grunt and flashing me her handcuffs. “I can’t exactly unzip the back of my romper with these sparkling bangles.” She twirls around, and I catch a quick glimpse of the zipper. “So can you take these off if I promise to be a good girl?” She flashes me a flirty grin, and I remind myself she’s playing you, you coglione.
“No,” I grind out. “But I can help you with that zipper.”
With a frustrated groan, she twirls around again and lifts her hair off her back, revealing more skin. I creep closer, my fingers closing around the tab and a spark of electricity thickens the air. I succeed in getting it down about an inch before it catches on something. I place my free hand on her shoulder, attempting to get some leverage on the damned zipper and she startles at my touch. She staggers back, her ass grinding against my already hardening cock. She must clearly feel it because a hiss of air escapes through the perfect bow of her lips.
Fuck.
She pauses for an instant, frozen against me, as if she’s debating whether to take advantage of this clear moment of weakness on my end. Then she peels her body free of mine and wraps her hand around the door handle, steadying herself. “Can you hurry? I really have to go.” Does her voice sound breathier than normal or have I lost my damned mind?
“I’m trying, tesoro ,” I mutter, and I’m certain my breathing has become more ragged. I finally get it past the trouble spot and the rest of it glides down easily, revealing a black lace bra and… no panties. Cazzo , this hostage situation will be the death of me.
My hand lingers at the perfect swell of her ass, the tab of the zipper in a death grip between my fingers. I can’t help but stare at the miles of exposed, perfectly tanned flesh.
“Done?”
Clearing my throat, I inhale a deep breath, and her sweet scent of ripe strawberries and spiced vanilla invades my nostrils. “Yes,” I grumble, prying my hands from her back.
She darts inside, moving surprisingly quickly considering her ankle and slams the door behind her.
The moment she’s gone, I slump down on the bed and mumble a curse. This is not at all how this was supposed to go.