39. Vivi
VIVI
I’m drifting in and out of sleep when a sound reaches me. A whisper on the breeze. That voice calling my name.
I sit up in bed, clasping the sheet to my bare chest. It takes me a moment to get my bearings. To remember whose room I’m in, what happened last night.
A delicious warmth sweeps across my skin as snippets return.
Feeling Gio inside me. Making me come with his fingers, his mouth, his cock. My pussy flutters, muscles flickering, the ache present but more than bearable.
I flop back against the pillows, a stupid grin splitting my face.
I had sex with my husband, and I flipping loved it.
A giggle escapes, and I drag the covers over my head, kicking my legs in silly, reckless glee. I didn’t know what to expect, didn’t know how I’d feel, but who knew—sheltered, virginal Vivi loves fucking.
My lips are swollen, well-kissed. My breasts tingle from Gio’s mouth and teeth, the scrape of his stubble against my sensitive skin. Muscles in my back and core and legs are sore, used. Muscles I didn’t even know I had.
And the place between my legs…
My pussy. A word I never used to use now permanently seared in my vocabulary, spoken in Gio’s low, rumbly voice.
My own private recording telling me how much he loves touching me there, pleasuring me there.
How good I taste, how hot and slick I feel.
How he wants nothing more than to kiss and suck and fuck my pussy until I’m coming, day and night, his queen worshipped just as she should be.
My breathing hitches at the memory, the words he whispered to me in the middle of the night as he stroked me to yet another orgasm. And I was the one who put his fingers there, needy, despite everything we’d already done.
He tried to stop me, worried that I’d be too sore.
I told him I wasn’t—not enough for him to stop. That I wanted to feel him again, feel that bliss with him again.
Beneath the sheets, I tease my fingers over my already slick skin. I’ve woken aroused, hungry for him again.
I slip a finger lower, tease my entrance. I am sore. Stretched beyond what I thought possible. Maybe Gio is right. Maybe I need to rest. Let my body recover. Sink into some hot water.
Yes. A bath before breakfast is exactly what I need. And maybe, if I’m lucky, Gio will return from wherever he’s wandered off and join me.
I’m slipping on a robe when something outside catches my attention.
I swing open the terrace doors, inhale. Crap, it’s definitely smoke. There’s movement on the ground. A figure racing through the garden, toward the smoke. And Gio isn’t here…
Dread curls around my throat as more gray plumes fill the air. Somewhere from within the grove of trees, I hear that voice again. The one that’s been haunting me since I arrived on the island.
I hear someone calling my name.
If Gio is out there, trapped in a fire, calling my name… Fuck. I can’t stay here. I have to go, now. Help him.
Shit. I don’t have clothes in here. Nothing but my discarded gold gown.
I haul it on, rush out of the suite and down the hall to my room.
Inside, I take just long enough to make sure my little stone makes it to the bedside table before yanking on a random dress from my wardrobe and shoving my feet into a pair of sneakers.
Then I’m running down one flight to the second floor. There’s no hint of smoke here, or fire. No cries of distress. But I need to check on Aurora.
I’ve only just met the little girl and she’s already carved a place for herself in my heart.
Could she be with Gio? Is she hurt?
My brain is running away with me, too many scenarios playing out in rapid succession, all of them cutting straight to the quick.
Please let them be okay.
Quietly, I crack open Aurora’s bedroom door. Gio mentioned last night which room was hers. The one next to Francesca’s.
The girl is peacefully asleep in her bed. Thank God. I close the door silently, not wanting to disturb her.
For good measure, I check on Francesca, too. She’s asleep, limbs relaxed and all akimbo under her covers. Alik and Dimitri will be with Sera; the Russians will do everything necessary to keep her safe. The security staff in the villa will look out for everyone else.
Good. Good. I direct all my focus on finding Gio. Running, I make it down the stairs and into the early morning light. Outside, I have to stop, get my bearings. Figure out which direction to go.
I close my eyes, inhale. The island is far too quiet. No birdsong. Little breeze. I’m starting to freak out, not sure which way to go, when grey trails creep along the path that leads to the chapel.
I dart forward, seeing the bougainvillea only a second before I see the chapel. Smoke is rolling out of the old building, curling across the ground and reaching for the sky. I don’t see any flames, can’t spot any fire, but there doesn’t need to be for this situation to turn fatal.
My eyes sting. I swipe at the gathering tears, trying to keep my vision and head clear. Running into a burning building is a categorically bad idea, but I’m not sure I have a choice. Not if Gio is somehow stuck inside.
Legs starting to shake, I’m halfway to the main entrance when I catch sight of another opening. One in the side of the church. The one I saw the priest exit the first time I came here.
The opening is cut cleanly through at least a foot of stone, an equally thick door hanging open.
Smoke lingers here, too. I hesitate, not sure if this is the right way to go.
That’s when I hear a voice drifting up from the darkness below.
One step, two, I’m inside the narrow space, and there’s no turning back.
The air is colder in the stairwell. Damp and oddly salty. Like it’s being fed by the sea. It’s dark, too. The stone steps spiral down and down, and I’m dizzy before I hit bottom.
I reach the final step and brace myself on a wall.
I’ve just walked into a prison. All the surfaces are rough-hewn and heavily packed earth, enormous beams stretching high and wide to stop the entire place from collapsing.
The lighting is crappy, but there’s enough to see a series of cells lined up in a row.
Five human-sized cages, with bars anchored between the ground and ceiling.
I thought my room on the top floor of the villa was confining. This place is downright claustrophobic. And terrifying. What kind of person do you have to be to end up in one of these cells?
What kind of person do you have to be to lock someone in?
It’s hard to reconcile the man I was with last night with the knowledge that this is his. His domain, just like everything else on the island.
If he’s down here, I don’t see him.
I move down the dark hallway that runs along the cells. Each one I pass is empty, until I get to the last one.
The door to the final cell is open.
Inside, a body is half-curled, half-slumped on the ground. I can’t see much more than a torso clad in a dirt-streaked shirt and the back of the dark head. The shoulders are moving slightly. Whoever it is, they’re still breathing.
Heart pounding in my ears, I’m about to step closer when there’s a creaking sound. A warning that comes a half-second before the cell door swings shut, sealing the prone form inside.
“Not so fast, Vivi.”
My head whips in the direction of the disembodied voice. Someone else is in here with me. A man stepping out of the darkness. A man that, for the longest time, I wanted nothing more than to see again.
“Tino?”
“In the flesh.”
“But…how?” I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’s here—or ignore the bile that climbs my throat when I realize he’s not a hallucination. Not one of the tricks my mind has been playing on me.
He’s real. Flesh and blood.
Tino Valori is alive, on the Lisca Bianca, and it’s the opposite of a dream.
It’s the worst nightmare imaginable.
“I don’t understand?—”
“Really? ‘Cause it’s so simple. Your husband has been keeping me in there.” Tino waves his hand at the cell. The one that’s holding a gun. “But, thanks to a newfound friend, we’ve traded places. He’s locked up, and I’m finally free.”
It is Gio on the ground.
Instinctively, I lurch toward the cell, trying to reach him. But my arm is too short, and he’s too far away. “Fuck!” The curse explodes out of me before I can stop it.
Tino starts to laugh. It’s rough, crass, and makes my skin crawl.
“Well, well, little Viviana has learned how to curse. What a charming surprise.” Tino’s tone shifts, turns slimy. “Does that mean he’s taught you how to fuck too?”
I don’t answer him. I don’t care what he thinks about me anymore. As far as I’m concerned, Tino Valori is as good as dead.
Behind me, Gio groans. It snaps what’s left of my self-preservation instincts, morphing me into something feral, protective. I lunge at Tino, a snarl on my face. “What did you do to him?”
“Calm the fuck down, puttana. He’s drugged, not dead. And he’ll stay that way, as long as you do exactly as I say.”
Dread washes down my spine. “What was it? What did you give to him?”
“Someone was kind enough to pass me a sedative. A mild dose. It won’t keep him down forever. Just long enough for us to get the fuck out of here.”
Tino raises an arm and levels the gun at my face. “Come here, Vivi.”
I’m stuck, rooted in place. Tino fires a warning shot into the ceiling. Splinters of wood and hunks of earth scatter down around us. “Now!”
I do, moving at a measured pace as Tino locks bloodshot eyes on me.
“Closer.”
It is the last thing I want to do, but Tino is past the point of rational conversation. I don’t want him shooting Gio or me.
I move toward him, stopping when he says. Tino lifts the arm holding the gun, presses the muzzle against my head. “You don’t want a bullet to the brain, you stay close and do exactly as I say. Got it?”