20. Complicated
CHAPTER 20
COMPLICATED
S erena
I’m in shock. I recognize the symptoms, the tremor running through my body, the icy chill surging through my veins despite the comforter I’m curled under, the muffled sounds, the slow movements, all of it.
Antonio’s wild gaze lands on mine, and instead of the terror it should bring after that gruesome display, I feel a tiny measure of relief. That dark glare grounds me somehow. Even the blood splattered across his face and dress shirt don’t ignite the fear it should. I just watched this man beat another guy to death and not just anyone but his own employee.
Still, I hold his gaze for an agonizing moment until his phone rings.
He rips his eyes from mine, dropping them to the screen. The moment he answers, I know who’s on the other line. Only my father could make a man like Antonio Ferrara, one still covered in the blood of his guard, go utterly pale in the span of a second.
Antonio clears his throat, the mask of calm he typically wears falling over his features and his color returns. “There is no need for threats, Signor Valentino.”
I can just make out muffled shouts from the other end of the line. If I could only get my brain to start functioning, I would ask him to put it on speaker.
“Serena will be returned home safe and sound as soon as my demands are met.”
More screaming from the other end.
I can only imagine what Papà is threatening to do to my captor. I wish I was in the right state of mind to enjoy it. But right now, all I can think about is what would have happened if Antonio hadn’t returned in time.
I tug the comforter up to my chin, trying in vain to dispel the cold that’s settled deep in my bones. Dio , how could something like sex which I love so much be used against me like this? I feel so completely powerless. I’ve never felt anything like this my entire life, and I’ve been held at gunpoint, shot at and chased more times than I care to remember.
But it was nothing like this .
“Serena?” Antonio’s voice is surprisingly soft as he approaches me. “Your father would like to speak to you.”
Panic overwhelms me. He’ll know. The minute I talk to him, Papà will know something is wrong. And Dio, he can never know. I’d take this secret with me to the grave. Serena Valentino cannot be seen as weak, and that man had me at my most frail. Worse, Antonio had witnessed it, too.
He presses the phone into my palm when I don’t make a move to take it, eyes searching mine. I shake my head, desperately. Brows knitting, his finger jabs at the mute button, then he folds down onto the bed, remaining at the very edge of the mattress.
“You have to speak to your father,” he whispers. “He wants to know you’re alive.”
“I can’t,” I hiss.
“Serena, you must. All of this is hinging on you.”
I draw in a breath, fully aware of how ridiculous I sound, but Dio , I just cannot speak to my father right now. Not so soon after?—
Antonio must read the panic in my eyes because he heaves out a breath and unmutes the line, pressing the speaker button. “She’s in the shower. I’ll have her call you back in the next half hour.”
More shouting, and this time I can make out each and every Italian curse that explodes from my father’s mouth through the speaker.
“She’s fine, trust me.”
“I don’t have to trust you for shit, Antonio.” Papà ’s furious howls echo across the room. “You took my fucking daughter, you cowardly pezzo di merda . If you don’t get her on the phone in the next five minutes, I’m going to get on a plane, hunt you down, cut off your cock and shove it down your throat until you choke on your own cum.”
Antonio swallows hard, his eyes lifting to mine in a desperate plea.
I lift a finger, signaling for him to wait, and shove the comforter back before dragging myself out of bed. Tugging at the hem of Antonio’s shirt, I make sure my ass isn’t hanging out. The idea of even looking at the torn panties sends my stomach into somersaults. I force my feet toward the bathroom, then run the water on full force. Through the open door, I motion for Antonio to come in.
Drawing in a steadying breath, I reach for the phone and force my tongue to move. “I’m fine, Pa,” I call out over the rushing water.
“ Cazzo , Serena, how did this happen? I’m going to murder that son of a bitch?—”
“I’m okay, Papà . Antonio’s been the perfect abductor. Just do what he says so I can go home.”
“Of course I will, cuore mio . It’s just that it will take a few days. Your mother and I and Luca and Stella had some business to attend to in Asia. We’re a bit isolated here, and it’ll require some time to get my men out of his territory.”
He’s being oddly evasive. For some reason, he doesn’t want Antonio to know where he is or what he’s doing.
“Just do it quickly, okay? I have to go?—”
“Wait, you’re sure he hasn’t hurt you?”
“No, Papà , Antonio hasn’t hurt me.” My eyes lift to meet the eldest Ferrara brother, lingering in the doorway, and maybe I’m imagining it, but something like regret surges across the dark surface.
Then he reaches for the phone, and I hand it over, eager to end the call with my father. He’s always known me too well. And now with the pleasant steam of the shower filling the room, there’s nothing I want more than to wash away the feel of Otto’s hands on me.
Antonio walks out, my father still yelling in his ear, and I lock the door behind him. Now alone in the safety of the grand, master bathroom, I strip off my clothes and unlock the dam. Tears stream down my cheeks, my entire body shuddering from the stress of keeping the sobs at bay.
My knees give and I drop down to the floor, the cold tile sending another chill up my spine. I bury my head in my hands and allow the tears to fall until there’s nothing left. Once I’m good and numb, I crawl toward the claw foot tub, turn off the overhead shower and haul myself into the warm water.
Closing my eyes, I lean my head on the edge of the basin, carefully avoiding the tender bump. A pair of soulless, dark orbs flash across my vision, and fear snaps my eyes open once again. A strong hand holds me down, a sickening warm breath drifting across my face, then another hand runs down to my panties.
No. Dio , no.
My pulse skyrockets as vivid images of the attack flood my mind. Attempting to clear my thoughts, I slide down beneath the water until my heartbeat begins to slow. Everything is muffled around me and for a few seconds, there’s peace. But my breath is quickly fading, and I’m forced to emerge.
I don’t know how long I stay in the tub, but by the time I get out, my fingers are wrinkly and the chill has returned to my bones.
Wrapped in a new robe that just appeared in my bathroom today, I open the door a crack. Antonio sits at the foot of the bed, at the exact same spot I left him. He rises when his eyes find mine, hands twisted into a knot. “I—I wanted to be here if you needed anything.”
Ignoring his comment, I eye the bed, then the puddle of blood on the floor. Otto is gone, along with my torn panties, and I can’t help but wonder what Antonio did with them. Or was it another one of his goons to dispose of the grisly reminder of the assault? Would I really find the former guard’s head on a spike outside the villa? A dark, deeply buried part of me wants to see the asshole pay. I’d enjoyed seeing Antonio beat the shit out of him. I would never admit that out loud, of course.
I draw in a breath, banishing the dark thoughts. I’m not a monster. Not a monster. Just because I have the Valentino name, doesn’t mean I have to follow in my family’s questionable footsteps. Look at Isabella, she’s going to be a doctor.
A weariness sets in as I stand there, after the spiking adrenaline and the relaxing bath. A part of me wants to sink back under the sheets, but the other part is loath to ever sleep in that bed again. So instead, I remain standing, hugging the soft fabric of the terrycloth robe and rubbing my arms to spread the warmth. On the bright side, I re-wrapped my ankle, and it feels a little better.
“What did Papà say?”
“He said Tony will begin the negotiations while he’s otherwise detained. I’ve agreed to giving him seventy-two hours before?—”
“Before what?” I snap. “Before you kill me?” Anger. Isn’t that one of the steps? Yes, anger is good. It’s much better than fear or pain. I latch onto it, wafting air onto the growing flames.
“Serena, you know how these things work.”
“No, actually I don’t. Because no one has ever been stupid enough to take me hostage.”
“You know it’s not what I wanted…”
“Right, you wanted Isabella, but thanks to Raf, you couldn’t get close enough. So I’m your second choice.” I pace the room, the fury growing with each staggered step. “So now what? Papà is presumably doing exactly what you’ve asked, so what do I do in the meantime?”
“We wait.”
“Wait for another one of your goons to attack me?”
His eyes widen, mouth curving into a capital O like I slapped him. As if I’m the one insulting his integrity.
“Did you not see what I just did to Otto? That man has worked for my family for twenty years. I did that for you .” His eyes are wild as they regard me. “I made an example of him so that anyone who comes across your path again will think very hard before daring to lay a finger on you, tesoro .” This time my nickname holds a whole new connotation, one I’m not sure I like any better.
“Of course I saw,” I hiss. “It was hard to avoid the blood splatter.”
He stands, dragging his hand through his mussed-up dark locks. “ Cazzo , everything has gone wrong in the past few days. This is not at all how it was supposed to go.”
“Did you think kidnapping me would be easy? That my father would simply bend to your will? That I would bend to your will?”
“I don’t know,” he growls. “But I never meant for this to happen.” He motions at the bloody pool on the floor. “Or for anyone to ever touch you. Not like that…”
“So are you waiting for a thank you?” I snap.
“No!” he grits out. “I only want you to know that I would never have allowed that. That is not the type of man I am.”
“Then what type of man are you, Antonio?” I slap my hands on my hips and glare up at him. “Because according to your dead guard you haven’t been acting like yourself either.”
“This was supposed to be a simple business transaction, that is all.”
“And now what? It’s gotten complicated?”
“Yes,” he hisses. “Otto is right. If it had been my father to have captured you, he would have beaten you bloody by now. He would have sent pictures to Dante, he would have tortured you for information you likely don’t have. But I can’t?—”
“Why?”
He inches closer, those dark orbs searing to mine, wild and chaotic. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.” I narrow my eyes at him, challenging. I’ve grown up in this world, and I know the dark truths. You must be willing to do anything to get what you want, to succeed and become a savage prince among ruthless royals.
He closes the distance between us, eyes devouring every inch of me. “Because of you,” he growls. “And maybe even this damned house. Together, you’ve done something to me in the past few days. You’ve forced me to reconsider everything, damn it. You’ve made me soft .”
A satisfied smile curls my lips as I regard him. “Good.”