Kidnapping a Mafia Boss

Chapter Thirteen – Thea

The restaurant Silus chose is one of the fancier ones downtown, the kind you need a reservation for, with cloth napkins and no prices on the menu. Of course, I don’t get to see the menu because Silus already put our orders in before we even got there.

Oh, and the entire restaurant is empty, save for us, a single waiter, and the chef in the kitchen. He literally reserved the entire space just for us, a show of his money.

I don’t know who he thinks I am, but I won’t be so easily impressed. So what? I don’t care that he wasted a bunch of money doing this for me all to try to prove a point. He’s out of his goddamned mind if he thinks I’m going to be dripping wet for him because I can’t think about anything other than his stupid dick.

I’m not a sex maniac. I can think of other things even in the face of temptation. Yep. I’ll just spend all night focusing on how much this restaurant isn’t my style, how much I hate the food, and how much I wish I was literally anywhere else. By the end of the night, maybe Silus will get so annoyed with me he’ll just let me go.

Yeah, right. How’s that for a daydream?

Silus and I sit in the middle of the restaurant, a wide-open space with rows and rows of tables. Even though the rest of the place is empty, each table is lined with a black table cloth and silverware. Silus sits across from me, watching me take in the scenery with a half-smirk on his face.

My lips pucker into a frown when we meet eyes, and I tell him, “You match the table.” He does. The tables are black, and he’s wearing all black as well, every single layer of his suit and everything underneath. It’s like I’m sitting across from the devil.

The waiter brings out two glasses, which he then fills with some kind of red wine. He bows his head and says, “Your appetizer will be on its way shortly.” Without saying anything else, he hustles away, disappearing into the kitchen.

Silus and I are alone. I can safely assume he has a gun on him, though I don’t know if he’d use it on me. It’d be a short sprint to the door of the restaurant, but I doubt I’d be able to get that far before he caught me. Plus, I can’t forget he has Max somewhere.

I’m stuck. I’m stuck at this date even though I don’t have any chains keeping me here.

Silus picks up his wineglass and takes a small sip before he says, “You match the table, too.”

I look down at my chest, at the dress I wear, and then I shrug. “You picked out the dress, so that’s not surprising.” I say it as an insult, making fun of him—his favorite color is obviously black, with no runners-up.

He shrugs his wide shoulders. “I want my girl to match me.”

I wasn’t going to go for the wine, but after hearing him say that, I chuckle and reach for it. “I’m not your girl,” I mutter before taking a sip. I’ve never had wine before, so the taste is… not exactly bad, but definitely not a favorite, either.

Silus sets his elbows on the table and weaves his fingers together, his hands before his mouth to hide his smirk. “Oh, but you are. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

I have to roll my eyes at that. Just because I intrigued him by being blissfully unaware of who he was the night I asked him to pretend to be my boyfriend doesn’t give him the right to say those sorts of things.

I might be his prisoner, but I don’t belong to him or anything like that.

Our appetizer comes, and I instantly forget what the waiter says it is. Some kind of rolled-up pasta with lots of cheese. I’m not normally a big pasta fan, but I’ll eat anything with loads of cheese.

I reach for one of the cheesy pasta balls first. They’re steaming hot, so I use a fork. I’m the kind of person who needs to eat their food while it’s piping hot, otherwise it just doesn’t taste as good. Pizza? Disgusting unless it’s hot enough to burn the roof of my mouth.

Silus watches me as I cut into it and stuff one half in my mouth. It’s hot enough that I have to do some crazy breathing techniques to cool the inside of my mouth, but that doesn’t stop me from starting to chew. When I notice he’s staring, I ask with my mouth full, “What?”

“You are the epitome of grace,” he deadpans.

“Shut up,” I say—and I make sure I say it before I swallow, just to prove to him that he’s dumb and I don’t think he’s funny at all. He has looks, sure. His body is practically sculpted by a higher power, yes. And his dick…

Where am I going with that thought?

All the man does is chuckle as he takes one of the cheesy balls for himself. “Tell me, Thea, if you could do anything in the world, what would it be?”

Ah, I see we’re skipping the silly questions involving favorite colors, bands, and movies, and getting to the good stuff—note the sarcasm, please. I stick the other half of the piece I grabbed into my mouth.

I don’t want to talk to him. The last thing I want to do is get to know this asshole and have him get to know me. It’s all fake, anyway. He wants to fuck me, that’s all. It isn’t like he really wants to get to know me. A man like that… let’s just say a girl like me doesn’t have a real chance with someone like Silus, kidnapping mishap aside.

Come on. The man could have anyone he wants—man or woman, let’s be real. Why the fuck would he want me? It just doesn’t make sense.

“If I could do anything in the world,” Silus says once it’s clear I’m not feeling very talkative, “I’d climb Mount Everest.”

“So then why don’t you do it?”

“I have no interest in the cold. What about you? Come on, love. We’re going to be here a while. Time will move faster if you join in on the conversation.” He takes another sip of wine, although his gaze never leaves me.

Hmm. I guess, if I could do anything—anything—then there are two specific things I’d do. I don’t want to tell Silus either of them, but he’s right in saying this little date will go by quicker if I talk.

“If I could do anything, I’d go to the moon,” I tell him.

He’s clearly not expecting that answer, because his thick, dark brows lift, and he asks, “The moon? Why would you want to go to the moon?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.” Biting my bottom lip, I add, “No, that’s a lie. I do know. I’d go to the moon because I want to look up and see earth in the sky. Big and round, blues and greens in a sea of black… I think it’d be the coolest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And the silence of space—you can’t get a thought to yourself in this city.” I smile to myself. “Plus, it’d be neat to bounce around in low gravity.”

Silus looks taken aback. “You’ve thought about it a lot, haven’t you?”

“Every kid dreams of something big. Some want to be president or ballet dancers or paleontologists finding new dinosaur bones, but I’ve always wanted to go to the moon. Get off this rock.” My voice quiets. “I always knew there has to be something better out there. If I made it to the moon, I don’t know if I’d ever want to come back.”

He leans back in his chair. “Okay, space is off-limits. If you could do or be anywhere on earth, what would it be?”

Either my original answer wasn’t enough for him, or he wants to learn more about me. I don’t know which one annoys me more. Silus has no reason to care; this whole dinner date, in fact, is just a ploy and not a real date. Still, I know he won’t let up until I give him another answer, so that’s what I end up doing.

“If I’m limited to this planet, then I guess I’d want to be in the middle of nowhere. No stores for thirty minutes or more. A house that’s all mine. Not a big one, and it doesn’t have to be new or anything, but it does have acres and acres of land in all directions. No neighbors to be seen. I’d want tall trees, grassy fields, a river or maybe a pond on the property.” I chuckle at myself. “I think I’d like to learn how to garden. It’s not really a useful skill in this city.”

Silus lets out a heavy sigh. “You continuously surprise me, Thea. You constantly remind me that you are not what you seem.”

I shrug. “A lot of people are learning to garden these days.”

“Yes, but typically when asked a question like that, people answer where they’d like to go. A vacation in the tropics, Rome, Paris, that sort of thing. But not you—visit to the moon aside. If you were given the choice, you’d live a quiet life in the middle of nowhere. You don’t think you’d miss the constant hustle and noise of the city?”

“Maybe for a bit, but I think I’d get used to it quickly.”

Silus asks, “What would your brother think of your dream of living so far removed from the city? I know you mentioned your plan, after selling me off to Cormac, was to buy a house somewhere else and get your mother help once she’s released, but you’d have more than enough money to find yourself a ranch out west.”

A sigh leaves me before I say, “Sometimes you make sacrifices for your family. Besides, in life you don’t always get what you want.” I go in for another cheesy bite of pasta. “What would you do if you weren’t shackled to this city? Besides Everest, I mean.”

“I’m not chained here. I could leave, if I wanted to… if I found a reason to.” When he says that, he stares at me a little too hard, and I have to glance away just so I can breathe again. “My brother could handle everything in the city. He’d never leave it. He has the city in his veins.”

“But not you?”

He thinks on it for a while before he tells me, “It might be nice to get away from it all, to be just a man and not someone everyone knows—present company notwithstanding, of course. A house in the middle of nowhere sounds nice, actually. Would you mind if I join you there?”

I chuckle. “Sure, and you can bring a unicorn while you’re at it.”

Silus watches me eat for a minute, and then he asks, “Is it so unbelievable to you that I’d want to join you?”

“Uh, yes? Besides the fact that I don’t think you’d ever leave this city, we also aren’t dating. This—” I gesture between us with my fork. “—is fake. You kidnapped me because I helped kidnap you. We’re not really together. You can’t say you’d want to spend the rest of your life with someone you just met and barely even know.”

“Why not?”

His question, spoken so curiously, makes me speechless. It takes me a good long minute to say, “Because… because it’s just weird. No one does that. This isn’t some cheesy romance movie where the two leads have to fall in love and get together in the span of two hours—an hour and a half after commercials. Life isn’t like that.”

Silus won’t let it go. “And why not? Why can’t life be whatever we make of it?”

I meet his pitch-black stare and tell him, “You’d get bored.”

“Bored of the quiet life, or bored of you? Regardless of what you mean, I don’t think I would. I think, love, you’d constantly surprise me. You’d keep me on my toes, even if it’s just the two of us.”

God, this guy. He just won’t give up, or at the very least he won’t stop saying super weird shit. With a sigh, I say, “It doesn’t matter. It isn’t like I could ever leave Max and my mom. That’s just a fantasy.” The moon or a house in the middle of nowhere; the latter is as unobtainable to me as the former. That house might as well be on the moon.

“Occasionally, fantasies do come to life.”

I say nothing to him—which is fine, since the waiter comes with our entrees. Silus got some kind of chicken alfredo, while the plate that is set before me is full of… chicken fingers and French fries? The waiter even gives me my own personal ketchup in a metal bowl.

When I glance at Silus, I find the man is grinning at me. “After having you for two weeks and seeing how you react to the food I bring you, I’ve come to the conclusion you are a very picky eater and have the palate of a child.”

It almost sounds like he’s mocking me, but that can’t be, can it?

“And yet,” I throw back at him, “you gave me wine.”

“Everyone loves wine.”

“Uh, no, not everyone.”

Silus grins at me. “Would you prefer something else? I could call the waiter back and have the chef cook you something else. Do you want what I’m having?”

“No,” I’m quick to say, making him chuckle in the process. “My child’s palate is fine with chicken and fries, thanks.” I want to be insulted at his words, but there’s no heart behind it. I can’t be, because it’s true. I love chicken and fries. You have to be very bad at cooking to go wrong with deep-fried chicken and French fries.

“That’s what I thought.”

We eat in silence for a few minutes. Silus and his chicken alfredo and me and my chicken tenders and fries. The fries are salted to perfection, and I end up devouring them first. There’s nothing better than crispy, golden fries with the perfect amount of salt. Dip them in ketchup and you have heaven at your fingertips.

“What would you grow?” Silus’s question catches me so off-guard that I don’t respond right away, which makes him repeat himself, “In your garden at this hypothetical house in the middle of nowhere, what would you grow?”

“Um.” I have to take a moment to think. It’s not a question I’ve ever been asked before. Then again, no one besides Silus knows about the house in the middle of nowhere, not even Max. “A bit of everything, I guess.”

“Like what?”

“Food. I’d love to learn how to grow tomatoes, peppers, beans, potatoes, that sort of thing. Pumpkins would be neat, too. Maybe even some corn. You know, try to be a little self-sustaining since no stores are going to be right down the street.”

Silus watched me as he chews and swallows a piece of chicken. “Is that all?”

I rip into a chicken tender and dip it in the ketchup. “No. I’d grow flowers, too.”

“Flowers? What kind? You don’t seem like the sort of girl who likes flowers.”

Whatever he means by that, I’m not sure, so I send a glare his way. Is he saying I’m not girly enough to like flowers? Jerk. “I like flowers just fine. Maybe not in a bouquet—they’re stupidly overpriced and pointless because they just die—but in the ground? Yeah, I like flowers. It’d be cool to grow some, have a yard full of tons of different kinds.”

“A lot of flowers means a lot of bugs.”

“I don’t mind bugs—unless we’re talking bedbugs or roaches, in which case I’m out.” When Silus smiles at me after that, my stomach flips, and though I try to fight the way my body reacts, I just can’t.

He’s the hottest man I’ve ever seen, and sitting with him here like this, it’s easy to forget I’m his prisoner.

“Would you have any animals?” Silus asks me. “Other than the unicorn I’m supposed to bring with me.”

God, this guy… he probably thinks he’s a regular comedian. He’s not, and I should tell him that, but I don’t. Instead, I say, “Maybe. Having a horse or two would be neat. A cow. Some goats. A big dog, too. Oh! And a cat.”

“And if I said I’m allergic?”

“Tough luck, buttercup.”

The laugh that comes from Silus then is deep and throaty, and I stuff a big piece of a chicken tender into my mouth to stop myself from saying anything else that might make him laugh like that. Even his laughter is sexy. How wrong is that?

Silus tells me once his laughter dies down, “I’m not allergic, but thanks for the kind words, love.”

“Hey, this is my daydream, not yours. You wanted to climb Mount Everest, you freak.”

“I’m a freak for wanting to be on the highest point in the world?”

“Uh, yes? You are aware people die all the time trying to get to the top, right? And then they just let the bodies lay there because it’s too hard to bring them down.” I’ve seen things online. It isn’t pretty.

Silus takes a small sip of wine. “It sounds as though you care for my well-being. I’m touched. You may say you don’t care, but you do, and that makes me all warm and fuzzy inside—”

I get him to shut up by throwing a chicken tender at him. It lands on his chest and falls to his lap, leaving a few crumbs on his black suit as it goes.

All the man does is lift a single brow in my direction and say, “Really?” He picks up the tender and sets it on the table cloth near his plate, never breaking eye contact with me and still giving me that lifted eyebrow.

“Yes, really. You talk a lot for a mafia boss. Aren’t you guys supposed to be stoic or something? You’re a chatty fucking Kathy.”

“All I’m doing, love, is getting to know you.”

“No, you were making fun of me.”

“I was not.” That eyebrow of his finally lowers in line with its twin as he says, “Teasing is not the same as making fun of someone, just so we’re clear. And, for your information, stoic mafia bosses are a terribly wrong stereotype. You should know we love hearing ourselves talk.”

I roll my eyes. “Clearly.”

I resist any other urges I have of throwing more food his way and finish the majority of what remains on my plate. Fifteen minutes later, our dessert is chocolate lava cake, and I’m not going to lie, my mouth waters when the waiter brings it over.

It looks fucking delicious.

Okay, as much as I don’t want to admit it, Silus chose well. The appetizer, my meal, even the dessert; I can’t complain about any of it. That said, I’m not going to tell him that. If he thinks he’s going to get praise from me for any of this, he’s dead wrong.

The dessert comes with two forks and a single plate, meaning we both have to lean toward the center of the table to get some of it. Silus doesn’t go for it straight away. Once he picks up his fork, he watches me with a twinkle in his dark eyes.

I don’t care. I stuff my face. Whoever eats the fastest eats the most and all that crap. I’m not going to waste a perfectly good, super chocolatey cake, and I don’t give a flying fuck about acting ladylike in front of this man.

He thinks I’m going to bend over and beg him for his dick? He’s got another thing coming. What happened before, on the first night, wasn’t something I’m proud of. If Silus thinks he can play me like a fiddle, he’s got another thing coming.

It’s only when he takes his first forkful of the cake that Silus asks me, “How is your brother liking his confinement?” What a weird way to ask me how Max likes being kidnapped.

The only thing I can do is glare at him. He knows it’s a sore subject. He’s purposefully poking the bear that is me, wanting to get a reaction. If I don’t know any better, I’d say he enjoys seeing me react.

“Oh, you know, Max is doing great. He’s so happy to be a prisoner,” I say dryly.

“He should be. It’s only because of you that he’s still alive. If it wasn’t for you, love, I would’ve gotten my hands dirty on him a long time ago. What you and your brother attempted… I can’t say anyone’s ever tried before, but many people have tried to kill me, and they’re lying face-down in the dirt now, being eaten by worms.”

He’s trying to act intimidating, but I’m not going to let it work on me. I roll my eyes and mutter, “Surprised they’re not swimming with the fishes.”

Silus laces his hands together and stares at me over them as he says, “There aren’t any deep rivers nearby. Only shallow ones. I don’t know about you, but when I have my men dispose of a body, I typically prefer that body remain in the ground.”

I can keep making jokes. I can say and do anything I want to make myself feel better, but it will never change the fact that I am this man’s captive. Silus basically owns me now, and he is probably the most dangerous man in the city. The things he’s done I’m sure I could never even dream of.

Honestly, I don’t know what makes me ask, but I find myself questioning him about something that is absolutely none of my business: “How many people have you killed?” A morbid curiosity, something whose answer I should never hear, especially while I’m in his care.

Though his hands are before his face, he still holds onto his fork. He slowly twirls his fork as he says, “That depends. Are you asking how many I’ve killed myself, or how many I’ve had my men kill?”

The question brings out an uneasy feeling in my gut, and I have to look away and say, “You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to—” But it’s too late. I already asked him, and the answer is not shocking.

“What kind of man keeps count of the lives he’s snuffed out? Someone proud, someone so lost up his own ass that he wants others to worship and fear him. I don’t give a shit about worship when it comes to everyone else in this city, and I’d rather not have fear—those who only fear you are those most easily swayed. I demand respect. True respect.”

Silus lowers his hands and carefully sets down his fork. “I do not seek out people to kill. I don’t kill random people in my spare time. Thea, I only give what’s been given to me first. An eye for an eye, so to speak. To most of the people in this city, the ones who keep their heads down and their noses clean? I would never harm a hair on their head. But the ones who try to steal from me, the ones who try to sabotage me or my businesses… I do what must be done.”

I guess, if I have to choose between an absolute psycho and someone like Silus, I’d rather choose Silus. He might have twisted morals, but at least it’s a code of some sort.

He continues, “Make no mistake: I am no stranger to torture and killing, Thea. The only reason your brother is still alive and not in a dozen pieces is you.”

“Lucky us.”

“Most people would consider themselves lucky if they were in your position, having done what you and your brother attempted. You drugged me, kidnapped me, and intended to sell me to my enemy. I think I’m being rather reasonable, don’t you? Especially considering the fact that I offered you and your brother all the money you’d need—”

Shaking my head, I cut in, “Like you really would’ve given us anything if I would’ve let you go.”

Silus is a deadly sort of serious when he tells me, “Yes, I would have. I am a man of my word. This could have all been avoided if you would’ve been more reasonable—although, if I’m honest with you, I’m glad you weren’t reasonable. Our fun together is only beginning.”

When he says that, it sounds like he’s insinuating something else, and that something is a thought I’ve been fighting all night.

All I can say is a quiet, half-hearted, “Fuck you.”

And Silus? He only smirks and says, “I’m working on that, love.”