3. Gabriella
Iremain seated in the van. Dante can drag me out if he wants, but I’m not moving just so I can be locked up in some house that will be my prison for however long it takes my brothers to find me. And I know they’ll find me. I’m counting on it.
Dante turns around to look at me. “Are you coming?”
“No. I’m good where I’m at.” I shift in my seat, trying to get more comfortable.
Dante narrows his eyes. “You know I’m just going to drag you out of there if you don’t come.”
“I figured as much. But then I thought about it and realized I have no desire to do what you want me to do, so I’m staying put.”
“Fine.” He shrugs. “Stay in the van for all I care.” He shuts the door, surprising me. I glance at the empty front seat. The driver had already got out. I could make my escape this very second.
I lunge for the driver’s seat, but then I see … the keys are gone. Damn it. Of course, they are. Dante wouldn’t let me stay in here if I could escape. And I have no clue how to hotwire a car. My brothers know, but they never taught me. Rocco didn’t think it would be appropriate for me to learn. Massimo tried teaching me, but then Rocco caught us and scolded us. After that, Rocco kept me even more under lock and key.
I sigh and slump down in the driver’s seat. I take a moment of quiet to look around at my surroundings. We’re in the woods; that’s obvious from all the trees. Glancing to my right, I see a small little cabin. Looking to my left, I see nothing but a long stretch of road. Who knows how many miles that is? There are no other houses in sight. There’s nowhere for me to go.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t try.
I get out of the van and take off running down the road. Looking back, no one is chasing me, which worries me. How far is this road that Dante isn’t worried about me escaping? We’re clearly nowhere near the city any longer. We’re in the rural areas of New York, which I’m unfamiliar with. I’m a city girl. The concrete jungle is my home. The woods … not so much.
But I’m not going to stop, so I keep running.
And I keep running.
Then, I start walking when I get tired of running.
And then, I eventually give up and sit on the side of the road, if you can even call the stretch of dirt a road. My wedding dress is dirty, which sucks because it was the only part of my wedding I was actually happy about. Now it’s getting dark and colder outside.
I sit there and wait for Dante to get me. I’m shivering by the time he shows up in the van.
“Need a ride?” he asks.
I grumble as I get back into the car with him. “I can’t believe this. How far is this road?”
“Oh, if you had kept walking, you probably would have reached the town within five minutes.”
I stare at him. “You’re joking.”
“Am I?”
“I’m going to tell myself you”re joking to make myself feel better.”
Dante drives me back to the cabin. “You coming this time?”
“No. I’d rather stay in the car.”
“Be my guest. But you’re going to get cold tonight in your flimsy dress. The door is open if you decide to come in.” He gets out and goes into the house.
I lean the seat back and try to get comfy for the undoubtedly un-comfy night I’m going to have.
Within minutes, I’m shivering again. Without heat on, it’s cold in the car. It’s also kind of creepy. As darkness settles around me, all I can see is black. I feel like I’m in a horror movie.
Well, I guess I am. I was just kidnapped.
And yet, for some reason, I don’t feel as afraid as I should. Dante just … doesn’t scare me. I know I should be afraid, but it’s easier to flirt with him than be afraid of him. But I shouldn’t be flirting with the man who kidnapped me. I belong in an institution, I swear.
I try to put up with the shivering for as long as possible until it’s too much. With a groan, I get out of the car and march to the cabin. I hesitate for a moment before knocking. I can’t believe I’m willingly walking into my kidnapper’s house, but I’m freaking cold, and hopefully, Dante has a warm bed I can sleep in.
Not with him, of course. I won’t let him touch me. Even though I’ve been dreaming about him ever since we met. He doesn’t need to know any of that. Dante doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. Once my brothers save me, I’ll forget all about Dante and move on with my life.
But I am not marrying Antonio. I’ll die before I let that happen again.
Dante opens the door, looking way too smug. God, I want to punch him. I also sort of want to kiss him. What the hell is wrong with me? He looks good, though, with his dark hair falling into his eyes and broad shoulders and muscular chest on clear display as he stands before me shirtless.
“Ready to come inside?” he asks.
“The only reason is because I’m cold, and self-preservation is taking over. It has nothing to do with you.”
“I never said it did. But if you wanted to see me again, you could have just asked.”
“Can I come in or not?”
He steps out of the way and motions me inside. The cabin is warm, bringing me instant relief. It’s probably from the fire in the fireplace. The living room and kitchen are all in one large space, but it’s quaint and cozy. I was never one for camping, but glamping? That was my jam. Give me a cute, cozy cottage any day of the week. (Just not one with Dante in it).
“Let me give you the tour,” he says. “This is the living room and kitchen. Through there is the bathroom. And in there is the bedroom.”
I look into the fairly spacious bedroom. “Only one bed?”
“Of course.”
“Why? There’s two of us.”
“It’s large enough for two people to share a bed.”
I shiver though I’m unsure if it’s from fear or … something else I shouldn’t be feeling. “I’ll take the bed. You can take the couch.”
“Uh, Gabriella, this is my cabin. Not yours. I can take the bed, and you take it with me.”
“Couch it is.” When I walk over to it, he follows.
“Fine. I’ll give you the bedroom,” he says. “I promise I won’t try anything.”
“Oh, you promise, huh? Then it must be true.” I flop down onto the incredibly soft couch. “The couch is fine. You can’t assault me on the couch.” I pause. “Well … I mean, you could. But I’m hoping you won’t.”
“I have no desire to rape you, Gabriella. I’m just trying to make your brother suffer.”
“Well, good luck with that, then. I’m going to sleep.” I fluff the pillows and lie down.
“You can take the bed.”
“I’m good.”
“I insist. Take the bed, Gabriella,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Well, if you insist.” I get up and hurry to the bedroom. I’d be damned if I had to sleep on the couch. “But you’re taking the couch.”
“Fine, I’ll take the couch.” He watches me from the doorway as I sit on the bed. “Comfortable?”
“Very.”
“Great.” He shuts the door on me … and locks it.
I jump off the bed and run over to the door and try the knob. It won’t budge. “Hey! Dante! You can’t lock me in here.”
“I just did. Now, have a good night’s sleep, princess. You’re going to need it for tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow? Dante! Tell me!”
He doesn’t respond. I keep trying to open the door and yell at him but get no response. Not once. Eventually, my throat gets tired, so I decide to rest it. My body feels suddenly depleted of energy. I crash onto the bed.
Dante is playing games with me; that’s for sure. I need to remember he’s not a cute guy I can flirt with. He’s a bad man who kidnapped me to hurt my brother. I can’t let him get in my head.
That’s the last thought I have before sleep takes me under.