14. See Something You Like?
CHAPTER 14
SEE SOMETHING YOU LIKE?
A ntonio
After escorting the dottoressa to the door and being forced to endure her veiled glares and muttered insults, I turn back to the immense double stairway that leads to the second floor. It’s absurd, but I hate that Serena is out of my sight even for a few minutes. Everything is riding on her. Pietro left, his presence necessary in Roma to run the daily operations in my absence. I would have preferred he remain here as an extra guard, but my choices are limited at this point. Otto is standing guard outside her door, a new bandage on his wounded eye thanks to Elena and a dozen other guards line the property. There’s no way she can escape, nowhere for her to run, and still, I need to see that she’s under this roof with my own eyes.
Just over twenty-four hours with this woman, and I’ve completely impazitto . I’ve lost my damned mind.
I drag my hand through my hair and pause on the first step. Cazzo , be the man you were groomed to be, damn it . Papà named you his enforcer, then his heir for a reason. Doubt encircles my lungs, squeezing until I can barely breathe. My gaze travels the foyer, searching for that portrait, the one of the five of us before our life began to crumble.
My eyes linger on the image of the little boy with smiling eyes and wild tumbles of dark hair. He clings onto Mamma ’s side as if somehow, he knew she was going to be ripped from his arms too soon. That boy was not built for this life.
And still, somehow, I forced it upon him.
Or rather Papà did.
I was the eldest, born to take over the Ferrara empire. My father trained me, spent countless hours preparing me for the inevitable day when I would become king. And I failed. Only months after his death and his precious kingdom is crumbling.
The worst part: I’m starting to realize I don’t honestly give a damn.
“ Signore …” Mariuccia appears around the corner, her hands folded across her rounded midsection. She looks at me like I’m a stranger. Gone is the warmth that filled her gaze when she first laid eyes on me less than an hour ago.
“ Signore was my father, Antonio is fine.”
She shakes her head, eyes cast down. “It doesn’t feel right.”
It’s all I can do not to beg for her to call me Tonio once again. Anything to bring back memories of a sweeter time.
“The cook has left dinner on the table for you and the signorina ,” she continues. “Is there anything else I can do before I retire for the evening?”
“ Si . Serena will need clothes for her stay. Can you pick something up in the morning?”
She glances at her wristwatch and begins to move toward the door. “The shops in town are still open for another hour. I can go tonight. She shouldn’t have to sleep in those indecent scraps of fabric she’s wearing.”
I barely restrain a chuckle and the urge to hug the woman. For my own sanity, a less revealing outfit would do wonders.
“ Grazie , Mariuccia. I mean it.”
With a tight smile, she marches the rest of the way to the door. Her hand closes around the knob, then she turns to me, her expression conflicted. “Perhaps it is not my place to say, but I wouldn’t forgive myself for not speaking up. I don’t pretend to know about your life or what has happened over the last two decades to turn the sweet, kind boy I knew into a cowardly, heartless man who would kidnap a woman. This is not who you are, Antonio Ferrara. Maybe Dio brought you here for a reason. Maybe here, in this home, you will remember the man your mother bore, not the monster your father raised.”
I stare at her, my jaw hanging open, as she spins toward the door and walks out, slamming the old timber behind her for good measure. I can’t remember the last time anyone dared speak to me like that or when truer words were spoken.
Instead of continuing up the stairs, I just stand there for an endless moment like a complete coglione . A part of me rages at the idea of being talked to like that, that’s the new me, while the old me can’t help another rueful smile from breaking through.
Mariuccia is right. My mother would be disgusted by the man I’ve become. By the man who just stood by and watched when Papà took out his thirst for revenge on Raf’s innocent girlfriend, when he banished my youngest brother from the family for no good reason. I was a complete and utter coward, just like my former nanny claimed.
But how can I go back now?
After years spent crafting the monster, how can I possibly banish the darkness I’d nurtured within myself? I wasn’t sure there was anything left of that little boy in the gilded frame.
The savory scent of garlic and herbs wafts down the hall, filling my nostrils and distracting me from this completely unexpected moral dilemma. Get a hold of yourself, Antonio . Some things have to be done despite the unpleasant consequences. My feet instinctively turn toward the kitchen, and I follow them in search of the delicious scent, anything to get my mind off the past.
Balancing the tray of food in my hands, I tick my head at Otto to open the door of the master bedroom. The grand chamber that should have been mine. Then again, maybe my parents’ old bedroom would be filled with too many ghosts, and Serena has actually done me a favor by claiming it.
The door swings open and I march through, only to barrel into a naked, wet form. The tray crashes to the ground, the food splattering across the marble, and a hiss escapes through my clenched teeth as I take in all of Serena. Miles of perfectly tanned flesh gleams before me, tiny droplets of water dripping down her shoulders. I trail one of the glistening beads that traces a path from a lock of blonde hair over the perfect swell of her breast, winding around the peaked pink nipple, then diving lower across her abdomen. Somehow, by the sheer will of Dio , I force my eyes up before they delve lower to ogle the hollow between her thighs.
Finding a pair of amused sapphire orbs watching me stare at her, a smirk quirks up the corners of Serena’s lips. “See something you like, Ferrara?”
Squeezing my eyes closed, I grit out a curse before spinning around. Otto stands in the doorway gawking at the still naked Serena, who hasn’t even made a move to cover herself. Cazzo . A wave of unexpected irritation crashes over me, and I take it out on the gaping guard.
“ Smetti di fissarla e vattene da qui ,” I growl at Otto. Stop staring and get the hell out of here .
With one final glance at Serena’s perfect form, and a smile that says he’s memorizing every delicious inch of her, he whirls around and starts to retreat.
“And have Fabi come up here and clean up this mess,” I shout.
“Yes, capo .” He marches out, slamming the door behind him.
My fingers tighten into fists, nails digging into the flesh of my palms. The idea of him, of any man, seeing her bare has unexpected rage consuming my insides.
“Get dressed,” I hiss and crouch down to toss her the discarded towel, ignoring the splatter of ravioli and cream sauce across the floor.
She barely wraps it around herself before her eyes meet mine, taunting. “In case you forgot, I don’t exactly have anything to change into. I’ve been wearing that romper for more than twenty-four hours, and it’s starting to chafe.”
I heave out a frustrated groan and march across the space to the door that connects my room to hers. Until Mariuccia returns, I’d rather have her in one of my shirts and a pair of boxers than a measly towel. “Follow me.”
I’m surprised when she does, the soft pitter patter of her feet on the marble echoing over the suddenly escalated thrumming of my pulse. I scan the smaller room, still fitted with a king size bed and find my suitcase nestled beside the armoire. Picking it up and splaying it out on the bed, I rifle through its paltry contents. I didn’t exactly plan for a lengthy stay at the villa so my options are limited.
Serena peers over my shoulder, eyeing the random assortment and lingering on the compartment that holds my boxer briefs. Grabbing one, I toss it to her then reach for the first shirt I find. “Here. This should suffice for now. Mariuccia has gone into town to buy you something suitable for tomorrow.”
“Really?” Her voice rises a few octaves. “You’re buying me clothes?”
“Well, I can’t exactly have you running around naked in my house. My guards will lose complete focus.”
She cackles, her head tipping back and locks of damp blonde hair fall across her eyes. “Just the guards?”
Her grin grows wicked.
“Yes,” I hiss.
“Maybe that’s my plan.”
“It would probably work.”
She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, batting those dark lashes and burning need zips down to my cock. Fuck, what is it about this woman?
I’ve heard about love at first sight but lust at first kidnapping? I’m a complete stronzo .
Dropping the towel, which barely covers anything, she presses the shirt to her chest and her nostrils flare. “What cologne do you use? I like it.”
Heat rises up my neck, and I clear my throat awkwardly. “I don’t wear any,” I mutter. Not unless it’s a special occasion, but I don’t find it necessary to clarify.
“Hmm, interesting.” She continues to watch me from beneath waves of damp hair, clutching my shirt and boxers in her hands, and merda , seeing her naked like that holding my clothes has my stupid cock thickening.
“Put on the clothes,” I bark.
“Okay, okay.”
I turn away, focusing on the terrace on the opposite side of the room and the setting sun’s reflection on the lake. It may not have been as grand as the master terrazzo but at least I’ll have a place to sit outside and stew tonight.
Who knows what tomorrow will bring once I deliver the news of his daughter’s abduction?
This could be my last sunset…
The thought is oddly comforting.
Thirty-five years and already I find myself looking forward to the quiet peace of oblivion. Mamma ’s passing was anything but peaceful. When my time comes, I long for a quick bullet to the head.
“You can turn around now. I’m decent.”
Serena’s voice has the dismal thoughts waning and my head spinning over my shoulder. “ Cazzo ,” I rasp out through gritted teeth.
Serena’s even more tempting in my clothes.
The black dress shirt is barely buttoned high enough to conceal the sensual swell of her breasts and her long, sexy legs peer out from beneath the hem. I can’t even see my boxers under there, but I can imagine the soft material cradling her ass, caressing her pussy…
Dammit, stop that.
“You should go to bed,” I murmur, my voice rough.
“Right. Busy day of hostaging tomorrow.”
“Serena…” Her name comes out as a needy rumble.
She moves toward the adjoining door before spinning back. “You’re not sleeping?”
Of course not. I won’t be able to sleep knowing my precious tesoro could be trying to escape. “Not tired.”
“Right.” A sigh parts her lips, and she pads out of my room. “Night.”