Chapter Eighteen Ella
Chapter Eighteen
Ella
After this morning’s infuriating excitement and a silent breakfast with Gualtiero, he informed me I’d be accompanying him for the rest of the day.
Eager to leave my high-security prison-resort, I didn’t argue and got ready. Now I’m in the backseat of the usual black SUV, with security in front of us and behind. Gualtiero sits beside me on the phone, speaking Italian. He doesn’t sound happy.
I stare out the window at the scenery, which only last week held so much appeal. Now it feels oppressive, closing in on me, and I desperately want to escape from it all.
To be honest, I’m hopeful an opportunity will arise today, but with this much security in tow, it’s not looking good.
Still, one has to have hope, right?
Even if it would probably be no better planned than my last attempt.
I glance out the rear window. The other car is still following us. I spot Alonso in the front seat and two other men in the back.
“Why do we need so much security?” I ask when Gualtiero ends the call.
He takes my hand from where it’s been resting on the seat and lifts it to his lips, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to my skin.
“I’m not taking any chances with you,” he says calmly.
“What does that mean?”
His expression shifts, the amusement gone, something harder settling in its place.
“My men will be securing all entries and exits at the places we’re going.”
So much for slipping out through a back door.
“Is that to stop me from escaping, or from someone kidnapping me?”
“Both,” he replies. “Always remember, you can’t run from me.”
The certainty in his tone presses in on me, just like everything else. Still, I say, “So you keep telling me.”
Can he read my mind? Does he expect me to try again?
I did tell him I would.
Stupid mistake. I should have kept my mouth shut, but that’s hard when he annoys me so much.
He kisses my hand again, but I snap it back, looking out of the window to avoid his gaze. He chuckles next to me.
God, I want to punch his face.
“Making me feel like a prisoner is a sure way to make me fall in love with you,” I mumble sarcastically, loud enough for him to hear.
He seems unaffected by my words. “Even down the track, when I can trust you not to run, you’ll always have security with you. Get used to it. You’re too precious to take risks with.”
How romantic. A week ago this would have warmed my heart. Now it just sends a cold ripple through me.
I keep my gaze fixed on the passing landscape, but I can feel him beside me, solid and immovable, like the space itself bends around him.
No matter where I look, there’s no way out.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“To one of my businesses in Catania. I need to check up on things,” he says.
“What kind of business?”
Gualtiero ignores my question. “I booked you in for a spa treatment while I’m busy,” he tells me.
Plucking imaginary lint off my dress, I force out a laugh as irritation gets the better of me.
“Why do you always do that?”
He raises an eyebrow.
“Why can’t you just answer the question?” I ask, raising my voice. I don’t care that Santino and Fabio can hear.
He seems entertained by my outburst. I close my eyes and shake my head.
“There are certain topics I will never discuss with you. My business dealings are no concern of yours. If there is something you need to know, I will tell you.”
I huff. “What sort of relationship do you see us having? One where I just do as I’m told and spread my legs whenever you want?”
He has the audacity to smirk at me. “This is neither the time nor the place to discuss this,” he admonishes.
I ignore him and continue on the rampage. “Let me tell you right now, Gualtiero, I’m neither pliable nor obedient like a dog. I’m used to being an equal partner and—”
Gualtiero raises a finger to silence me, and for some reason I comply and shut my mouth.
Didn’t I just say I wouldn’t do that? I roll my eyes at myself.
He taps a button on the center console, and a screen I never knew existed rises up. Santino and Fabio can still see us if they turn around or glance in the rearview mirror, but they can’t listen in.
The sudden privacy doesn’t feel like a good thing.
“So you want to become Mrs. Mafia, do you?” he asks, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
The blood drains from my face. My eyes widen, my mouth falling open.
Oh my god.
For a second, everything goes quiet. Like the world outside the car has been muted.
It’s the first time he’s admitted to being a Mafioso.
I mean, I’ve suspected it. Too many things didn’t add up. But I ignored that little voice telling me something was off.
Holy shit.
I got involved with a criminal. And not just any criminal, but the don.
No wonder I have a target on my back.
It’s probably not just other gangsters who are after me, but law enforcement, Interpol… God knows who else.
A wave of nausea rolls through me. I press my lips together, swallowing it back.
I’m in way over my head.
And to think I only got into this mess because of a random act of kindness.
I should have listened to my gut when it told me to stay away from Gualtiero De Marco.
What am I going to do?
My gaze snaps back to him. Glaring feels like a good option. So I do, with a bravado I don’t feel, narrowing my eyes and spitting fire in his direction.
“That’s what I thought,” he says evenly.
I drag in a breath, forcing my voice to steady.
“Do you traffic drugs?” I ask, needing to know what kind of person I got involved with.
He doesn’t respond, just holds my gaze, his expression unreadable.
Does that mean yes or no? I can’t read him.
“Weapons?” I ask.
Again, nothing.
A cold dread creeps up my spine. What if it’s worse?
“Please tell me you’re not into human trafficking.”
The horror in my voice finally makes him react. He exhales slowly. “No. We’re not.”
Some of the tension eases in my chest, but not nearly enough.
“Then what?” I press. I need to understand what Tiero is capable of.
“Ella,” he says, his tone turning firm, “I won’t discuss business with you. It’s best you know very little about what’s going on. There’s a reason we keep women out of it. This is a man’s world.”
I scoff. What century are we living in?
Then again… I want nothing to do with his world.
“Stop asking questions and watch your smart mouth,” he continues. “It won’t get you anywhere except over my knee for a good spanking.”
I roll my eyes.
He is under the misguided impression he can shape me into a compliant little plaything.
Oh boy, he’s in for a rude awakening. Nobody controls me.
But I hold my tongue. Telling him that would only turn it into a challenge.
No, thank you.
“Don’t worry,” he adds, his voice almost amused. “You’ll learn your place soon enough.”
God, he really wants a fight, doesn’t he?
I draw in a deep breath, biting my lip as I count to ten, trying to calm my anger.
Nope. Still annoyed.
“Learn my place?” I repeat, staring at him in disbelief. “And I suppose that means following your every command? Dream on.”
He’s still smirking, clearly entertained. “Everybody follows my orders. It’s one of the perks of being the boss.”
I snort softly. “You’ve got obedient little puppets all around you. Doesn’t it get boring?”
He laughs, the sound low and unbothered. “Oh, Ella. We’re going to have a good life together. Keeping you in line will be fun.”
Bastard.