13. A Valuable Prize
CHAPTER 13
A VALUABLE PRIZE
S erena
I follow the housekeeper, Mariuccia, through the winding halls of the grand estate, switching between admiring the decadent artwork on the pastel walls and analyzing the scene in the foyer. Clearly, the man this woman remembers is nothing like the monster he’s become.
Still, he was kind to her, warm and caring even. Shocking.
I struggle to accept the huge disparity between the image I have of the cold, cruel Antonio Ferrara and the little boy in that family portrait. A knot of emotion tightens my chest, a tangle of anxiety, anger and an unexpected twinge of sympathy. What happened to that young boy to create the man Raf warned us about, the one who kidnapped me today?
Mariuccia stops in front of a pale lemon door, the hue matching the orchard filled with citrus trees surrounding the villa. She turns and offers a quick smile. “I’m sure you will be comfortable here, signorina .”
“I hope so.”
She twists the antique crystal knob, revealing an expansive bedroom. I step inside and I can’t settle on where to look. The entire chamber is tranquil and luxurious, reflecting the villa’s elegance and warmth. It’s completely different from my modern apartment in the city and not at all what I ever thought I would like. An enormous canopied king-size bed, draped in fine linens lines the far wall, the canopy decorated with sheer, flowing fabrics that catch the gentle breeze from the open balcony doors.
I move toward the terrazzo , the breathtaking view of the lake beyond calling to me. The large space is adorned with vibrant flowers and elegant wrought-iron railings and a small table and chair to admire the sparkling waters and jagged mountains beyond.
“I think I’m in love.” The words accidentally erupt out loud.
“It is truly a beautiful sight, isn’t it?” Mariuccia sneaks up behind me, her gray eyes twinkling as she admires the lake.
“It is. I guess as far as prison cells go, it’s a damned good option.”
Her brows crinkle, just like they did when Antonio alluded to my imprisonment downstairs. I guess she had no idea what she was getting into when her old employer summoned her to the villa.
Maybe I could get her to help me.
I open my mouth to ask, but the shuffle of approaching footsteps clamps my jaw shut. From over my shoulder and through the wispy linen curtains, I can just make out Antonio stalking toward us.
“This room, really, Mariuccia?” he growls.
Her shoulders lift innocently, a knowing smile on her weathered face. “It has the best view of the lake.”
“This isn’t a fucking hotel. Serena is my pr—” He snaps his jaw shut as the housekeeper’s eyes widen in horror.
“ Scusi ,” he mutters, gaze cast down to the marble floor.
“Antonio Ferrara, your mother would be appalled by that language and this poor girl?—”
He lifts his hand. “Enough. Perhaps I made a mistake having Nero call you here. I’m not the same little boy you knew all those years ago, Mariuccia.” His icy stare flickers in my direction before returning to the woman. “Serena Valentino is the key to salvaging what Papà spent years building, and I won’t let anyone derail me from achieving my goal.”
The elderly woman glances between Antonio and me, the pity in her expression palpable. But was it for me or the little boy she once knew?
“Now, should I have Nero return you to your home?”
She shakes her head, calmly, resolutely. “No, Tonio. I owe it to your mother to stay. After all that she did for me and my family, it is the least I can do.”
His head dips, jaw tense. “We won’t remain here for long. If all goes as planned, Serena’s father will agree to my terms in the morning and all of this ugly business will be over in a few days.”
“ Bene .” Mariuccia’s chin dips. “There are fresh towels in the bathroom as instructed. Is there anything else I can get you, signore ?” Her tone is frostier than his.
“No,” he mutters. “Elena should be arriving shortly. Will you please see to it that she is escorted to Serena’s room upon her arrival?”
“To this room?” I interject.
He eyes me as if he’s forgotten I was here.
“Yes, fine, you can stay in the master suite.”
I can’t help the satisfied smile from crawling across my lips. No wonder he’s so pissy. This was supposed to be his room. And just like that I’m absolutely loving Mariuccia.
He marches back into the bedroom and swings his gaze toward a door along the far wall. “I’ll take the adjoining room.”
“Adjoining?” I splutter.
“You didn’t think I’d let you stay by yourself, now, did you, tesoro ? Such a valuable prize must be protected at all costs.”
His fathomless, obsidian eyes heat, and I hate how my body reacts to that look. An ember ignites, faint at first but with the potential to burn down an entire village.
Mariuccia must feel the intense shift in the atmosphere because she lowers her head and makes a beeline toward the door. “I’ll have your luggage brought up,” she calls out over her shoulder.
Once we’re alone, Antonio steps closer and I mirror his move backwards. His eyes lock on mine and a flash of something indecipherable streaks across the endless night of those piercing orbs. As if he’s finally realized what he’s done, he heaves in a breath and knots his arms across his chest.
“It’s too late to call your father tonight. I’ll see to it first thing in the morning.”
“Yeah, we sure wouldn’t want Pa cranky when you tell him you’ve stolen his only child.”
“I already told you, this isn’t about you. Dante did this. He conspired with my enemy, the Sartoris, to dismantle my father’s entire organization. This is all his doing.”
Shit. I knew that deal with Enrico Sartori was going to come back and bite us in the ass. Only I thought it would be Isabella to pay the price. Uncle Luca is going to be furious with my dad, and he deserves every ounce of his wrath.
“Wait a second, Isabella said something about your father making moves in King territory in Manhattan. Wasn’t he the one that started all of this?”
“He only did that in response to Dante’s encroachment in our territory in Roma,” he growls.
Okay, that’s believable. My dad is always looking for ways to expand the King’s sphere of influence. But why’d he choose to do it in a city where Bella had been living? Idiot . If it had been Isabella instead of me, I’d find myself a fatherless orphan. Papà and Luca didn’t exactly have the most stable relationship as it was. Maybe it is a good thing I was the one nabbed after all.
“Okay, I get it,” I hiss. “It’s all my father’s fault. That still doesn’t excuse you kidnapping me, so don’t try to pretend you’re some chivalrous guy just because you’re keeping me captive in a beautiful estate.”
The hint of a smile tips up the corners of his lips, and the word beautiful vibrates across my skull. “I’m glad you think it’s beautiful. It was my mother’s greatest masterpiece.” He pauses for a long moment before whispering, “Besides my brothers and me.” A rueful chuckle slips out. “And look how well we all turned out.”
A charged silence fills the room once his jaw snaps shut, as if he hadn’t intended to divulge that little bit of personal history. From what I’d heard from Bella, Raf and Antonio had lost their mom to cancer when they were just kids. Raf barely mentioned her but given their age difference, Antonio probably remembered more of his mother than his younger brother did.
My mind wanders back to my mom and every childhood memory that she stars in. I couldn’t imagine what life would’ve been like without her. Again, that twinge of pity rears up. I shove it far down as I continue this weird game of chicken. Neither of us looks away as the tension in the room only escalates.
“She’s right this way.” Mariuccia’s voice echoes down the hallway, along with her footsteps.
“I hope it is only a sprain,” says the other female voice. “If what you said is true and the girl has been walking on it for hours, she could have done irreparable damage.”
My head snaps toward the door where the housekeeper and a second woman, this one at least a decade younger than Mariuccia’s sixties, if I had to guess. She’s holding a big leather bag, nearly limping from the additional weight on her small frame.
“ Dottoressa Bergamaschi.” Antonio dips his head at the new arrival. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”
“I didn’t do it for you, Tonio. It was only in your mother’s memory.” She pushes the wire-rimmed glasses up her nose and drops the bag on the bed, then turns to me. “ Signorina , take a seat so I can look at that ankle.”
I stare at the woman wide-eyed, then my gaze pivots to find Antonio’s again. He called a doctor in for me? He must really be scared of returning me broken to my father. He makes a move in my direction like he’s going to help me to the bed before he stops in his tracks and clears his throat.
Instead, Mariuccia closes the distance between us and weaves an arm through mine. “Come, Serena, Elena will take good care of you.” Shooting a scowl at her employer, she gently guides me to the bed.
The doctor starts poking and prodding at my ankle, and I can’t help wincing at each touch. Antonio watches every move, a tendon in his jaw tweaking at each of my grimaces. His lips are set in a grim line, the flutter at the pulse in his neck so powerful its visible over the collar of his shirt.
Finally, a long minute later, the woman’s kind eyes lift to mine. “It’s not broken, but it is badly sprained. I will stabilize it with a bandage, so the muscle has time to heal. You must try to keep off it as much as possible for the next two weeks. I’ll have crutches delivered in the morning.”
I groan internally, all the while keeping a smile plastered across my face. Wonderful, so much for my plan of a great escape.