Chapter Fifteen
Chiara
I finish brushing my teeth, the cool water running over my face.
I can’t get his face out of my head—their father.
He’s so different from Nikolai and Mikhail, but also so similar too.
He looks like them—tall, broad, strong—exactly like his sons. Their hair is blond, whereas his is black, but they all have that same cold intensity in their gaze.
But he had something more; a presence heavier, and more commanding.
And the way he spoke to me…it was so fatherly. I felt it the moment he came closer to me, and the soft tone he used. And after he took me out of that room, and into this bigger, nicer one, it only made me miss my Papa even more.
Tears slide down my cheeks, thinking of my family, my heart heavy as it aches.
I wipe my face quickly, blinking away the tears.
I wonder how much longer it will take before my family is here with me.
Walking out of the bathroom—the new one—I make my way towards the communal area of this mansion.
Isaak, Nikolai and Mikhail’s father, specifically asked me to come here once I finished freshening up.
As soon as I step foot into the massive room, my heart rate immediately picks up, noticing the many men who are standing around the walls, their guns in clear view.
There’s a noise behind me, a door opening from somewhere in the hallway, and it makes my heart jump.
I freeze, my body immediately going rigid, as I try my best to calm down.
I hold my breath, listening closely.
Could this be Nikolai?
Or even Mikhail?
Or is this somebody else altogether?
My pulse races as I wait, my mind spinning with possibilities.
Now that I can see the sun once more, and I have access to a clock, I know that two days have passed since Isaak found me.
I’m not exactly sure how many days it’s been since they left, but I definitely know that it’s been more than two now. I just wonder how much longer it will be before they’re back.
Footsteps sound out, and I immediately spot Isaak stepping towards me. His expression is unreadable, the same commanding presence filling the space as the soldiers standing by the wall nod at him as he passes.
I also notice another man behind him.
The second man steps into view, and recognition creeps into my mind like a whisper. My heart stutters in my chest, and before I can help myself, I gasp.
The man standing before me is Italian. He’s a man I recognise from my childhood.
“Alessandro…”
I rasp, barely able to say his name aloud.
I was only six when I last saw him on the day of Mama’s funeral, but you don’t forget a man like Alessandro Santoro.
According to Papa, Alessandro took the title of being Don at only nineteen, and he was a well respected man too.
He was one of the youngest to ever take that title, but one of the very best too.
When he spots me, his eyes narrow. He takes a long moment to look me over—his gaze running over every inch of my body—assessing me. His eyes linger on my face, and my arms, obviously looking for any visible signs of injury, but he doesn’t find anything.
He won't find anything, because I’ve not been harmed.
His focus is intense as he steps closer towards me.
“Are you okay, Chiara?”
He asks me, his voice deep, as his accent wraps around each word.
His eyes are locked on mine now, his focus unwavering as if he’s trying to read me from the inside out. It feels like a weight pressing down on me, and I suddenly feel a wave of dizziness washing over me. My chest tightens as I swallow hard, feeling like I’m about to pass out.
I try to steady myself, but it’s hard.
The sight of him, the familiarity of his face mixed with the strange reality of this all, makes it become too much.
I can barely hold myself as I begin to slip, my eyes becoming heavy when I jolt at his words.
“Chiara!” Alessandro’s voice is sharp, commanding as it shakes me from the fog of confusion that’s settled over me.
Before I can fully process what’s happening, he storms forward, closing the distance between us in an instant.
He grips my arm, holding me upright as I find myself swaying slightly, my mind still reeling from the mere sight of him in this place. “Are you okay?”
He asks me again, his grip becoming unbearably tight around my arm.
His eyebrows are furrowed, concern and frustration clear in his gaze.
I find myself nodding, whispering.
“H-How are you here?”
His jaw is tight as he runs his eyes over me again, his gaze harder this time.
“You’re safe now, Chiara. That’s all that matters.”
I blink, my mind racing, but I nod anyway.
A voice speaks to the side of us, and I turn to look over at Isaak.
“Let’s take this somewhere more private.”
I don’t argue with him.
He leads us, and I follow behind Alessandro.
Though my legs feel weak beneath me, Alessandro’s steady presence keeps me grounded.
I still do feel a little disoriented with every step that I take.
The mansion is grand, to say the least. The rooms are large with high ceilings, and marble floors which gleam under the soft lighting. A strange mix of beauty and coldness settles in my chest.
When we finally reach the second floor, we walk through a long hallway and towards a door that opens into a sitting room.
There are plush chairs here, a large crystal chandelier, and bookshelves filled with leather-bound books.
As my eyes scan over the shelves, I notice the small spaces where books have been moved, and I swallow hard, knowing exactly what happened to those.
They gave them to me.
I force myself to drag my eyes away, looking all around the room.
The pure luxury in just this room alone is overwhelming.
There’s something so unsettling about this entire situation; where I am, and who I’m surrounded with. This place is no longer the four walls I had been living in all this time.
This is their world, and they’ve made me part of it now.
I wonder what’s to come.
What will they ask of me next?
And will I ever find peace again?
Will I ever be able to forget Nikolai, to forget Mikhail, and return back to the life I once knew?
A shiver runs down my spine.
No.
The answer is no.
They have taken every part of me; my body, my mind, my soul.
There’s absolutely no way I’ll ever be able to forget them, or even leave them behind.
Them…me…we belong together. And I know they’ll never let me go so easily.
Isaak takes a seat on one sofa, and Alessandro takes a seat on the sofa beside it. My heart races as my eyes dart between the two spaces, wondering where I should sit, when I decide to sit beside Alessandro, but I do leave a gap between our bodies.
As soon as I’ve sat down, Isaak nods towards the hallway, and as I turn to watch why, I spot a woman, a maid perhaps, rushing forward with a glass of water in her hands.
They tremble slightly as she offers it to me, and I take it from her, thankful for this.
The woman gives me a tight-lipped smile before she retreats again into the background.
Sipping slowly, I’m grateful for the coolness of the liquid against my dry throat. I reach forward, leaving the glass on the table in front of me, before sitting up straight again.
My body is still tense, every muscle coiled with fear and confusion.
The men speak quietly between themselves, glancing over at me every few seconds or so.
Alessandro turns to face me, his dark eyes scanning me as if he’s trying to read something between the lines of my expression. The weight of his stare makes me shrink back into the plush fabric sofa even further. My heart races as I wonder what he’ll say next.
“How long has it been since you have been here, Chiara?”
His voice is deep, steady too.
I swallow hard.
I don’t know the exact number of days since everything is a blur in my mind. I do try to force the words out, but they only leave my mouth in a stammer.
“I-I don’t know…maybe it’s been a week now? Perhaps even two?”
Alessandro’s frame grows rigid.
He turns back to look at Isaak, his jaw tense, as he shakes his head. When he faces me again…dread washes over me.
“We were made aware of your abduction almost five weeks ago now. Have you been here all this time, Chiara?”
I freeze, all the air leaving my lungs in a big whoosh.
I feel numb as I nod my head.
I can’t believe it…
Isaak growls beside us, a low string of Russian words leaving his mouth as his expression grows furious.
Alessandro doesn’t seem satisfied with my answer. He leans in closer to me, practically closing the distance between us.
“I need to know what happened.”
I take another breath in, trying my best to collect myself.
“I was…taken.” I begin saying, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.
“I was in my new place, in England, and then…they were there. They were dressed in black, masks covering their faces, and a gun was pressed to the nape of my neck. I left with them, because they said that…they told me my friend would die if I didn’t.
I think I’ve been here from the very first day I was taken. ”
My voice falters towards the end, too ashamed to admit it out loud.
Alessandro seems to notice, but he doesn’t comment on it. He only watches me, waiting for me to continue.
“Have you been treated well, Chiara?”
He asks, his voice softer this time.
I nod quickly, almost too quickly.
“Yes. I’ve been safe here, and I’ve been treated well.”
I have no idea how he’ll react to my words.
I’m not lying though, not about that.
“Exactly how long have you been here, Chiara?”
Alessandro asks again, his voice sharpening.
“I-I’m not too sure. It’s been hard to keep track as everything became confusing very quickly.”
This time, I try to sound more confident.
I don’t want Alessandro to think that I’m lying to him, to think that I’m hiding something from him. He doesn’t seem to be convinced though. As he stares at me for a moment longer, he releases a heavy breath.