Chapter 5
EMILIA
"Oh, that fucking mobster," I seethed. For the last half hour, I'd been searching the room he'd locked me in.
Every corner, every potential exit, every possible weakness in my gilded cage.
I checked all the windows and doors, and nothing; they were all locked tight.
Heavy deadbolts, reinforced frames, and probably bulletproof glass.
I'd kill him. I'd slit his throat and slice him up like the pig he was, giggling as his guts fell out onto the floor.
The fantasy played out in vivid detail behind my eyes, satisfying in its violence.
Who did he think he was, ruining my entire life? Not only did he out me to my father, but he also stole my entire operation as well. Two years of work, two years of careful planning and strategic maneuvering, gone in a single evening. Now, he had me trapped in this room, claiming it was my prison.
"I'll have you begging me to do dastardly things to your pretty little body and more.
Mark my words," I mocked, pitching my voice lower in a ridiculous imitation of his growl.
No man had ever touched me that way, and I definitely wasn't going to beg him to be the first. I'd die first. I'd put a bullet in my own head before I gave him that satisfaction.
I flopped down on the bed, anger coursing through my entire body. My muscles were tense, coiled like springs ready to snap. I was tired, so tired. The adrenaline from the warehouse, the confrontation at the symphony, and the car ride here, it was all draining away and leaving me hollow.
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling as the day rushed back.
Niccolò arrives at the symphony. My family discovered what I was doing.
Having to get married. Being locked up here.
Not to mention, my arm was screaming in pain.
The bandage felt too tight, the wound throbbing in sync with my heartbeat.
Gently, I rubbed my hand over it, taking deep breaths and trying to endure the agony.
Sitting up on the bed, I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs.
Making myself small, like I used to do as a child when my father's rage filled the house.
This might be a nightmare having to be here until my wedding, but at least I'd be safe.
If I'd gone home, I would have been beaten to within an inch of my life.
My father's fists wouldn’t discriminate between his men and a daughter when his authority was challenged.
I could see the anger in my father's eyes at the symphony, and his clenched fist, white-knuckled and trembling, as he was itching to lash out at me. It was all he could do to keep himself under control. The vein in his temple had been throbbing, his jaw so tight I thought his teeth might crack.
Part of me wondered what would have happened if he'd dared to hit me in front of Niccolò.
Would the man who was somewhere in this massive home have protected me, or just stood there and watched, taking notes?
Would he have seen me as damaged goods, or would he have killed my father on the spot for touching his property?
Crawling up to the pillows, I pulled the blankets around me, cocooning myself in the expensive fabric.
They were softer than anything I'd had wrapped around me in my life.
Like sleeping in a cloud, if clouds were made of Egyptian cotton and down feathers.
For tonight, the door was locked, and I was safe from the terror that would have awaited me at home.
Tomorrow I'd figure out if I'd need to run.
Leading a double life was exhausting, and now I had to put up with this. Another role, another mask, another performance. I felt myself drifting off. The exhaustion finally caught up to me, pulling me under like a tide. I took immense pleasure in my final thought before I closed my eyes.
I encourage you to enjoy your last days breathing, Niccolò Venosa!
A loud bang at my door woke me from the dead sleep I was in.
The sound reverberated through the room, jolting me awake with my heart pounding.
It wasn't someone knocking, more like they were going to break it down.
"Hang on!" I yelled as I rolled off the bed, my dress tangling around my legs.
Sleeping in a ball gown definitely wasn't the smartest idea, but I had little choice.
The boning had left stabbed into my ribs, and the fabric twisted and wrinkled beyond recognition.
Nothing of mine was here, which led me to believe this hadn't been a well-laid plan.
Something happened I wasn't aware of yet, but I wasn't supposed to come home with Niccolò last night.
This had been improvised and rushed, which meant there might be weaknesses I could exploit.
Pulling open the door, I was greeted by a frown from an enormous man.
He had to be six and a half feet tall, broad as a barn door.
His bald head made him look like the villain in every thriller movie I'd seen.
"Breakfast." His low voice grumbled as he shoved a tray toward me, the dishes rattling with the movement.
I hastily grabbed it before he decided to drop it.
Reaching for the door, he pulled it closed, and the lock clicked into place. Once again, I was trapped.
"Fuck." I grumbled to myself as I walked over to the table in the corner of the room.
Who lived in a house so large that there was a table big enough for four in a bedroom?
It was a ridiculous opulence. The entire house was over-the-top.
Everything dripped with money, from the crown molding to the crystal chandelier above my head.
I'd heard whispers about the Venosa bank accounts, but I'd assumed it was gossip, like most things in our lives.
"Old money, blood money, ill-gotten gains.
" It was all laughable, considering the business that we were involved in.
There was very little money changing hands that wasn't dirty.
We were all thieves and murderers playing dress-up in designer clothes.
Looking over at the table, I saw papers on it, with a note and a pen.
Fill out.
Like I needed that little piece of information.
Flipping through the pages, I had to fill out what size of clothes I wore, and what my preferred bath products were.
Feminine hygiene preferences and bra size.
Well, at least he's thorough, I thought to myself.
The questions were detailed and invasive, as if he were cataloging every aspect of my existence.
My stomach growled, and I was instantly reminded I was starving.
I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten, maybe lunch yesterday, before everything went to hell.
Lifting the cloche off the plate, I was greeted with the most hearty breakfast I'd seen in years. Poached eggs, bacon, toast, three pancakes piled on top of one another, and a sliced apple. Steam rose from the food, the smell making my mouth water.
Coffee wafted up to my nose, and I reached for the magic elixir before I even thought about trying the food. The cup was warm in my hands, the ceramic smooth and expensive.
Closing my eyes, I took a sip, and it filled my soul with a fleeting hope that all might not be lost. Rich, dark, perfectly brewed. Even if I were stuck here for the rest of my life, the coffee was on point.
When I finally opened my eyes, I looked out the window and was amazed at the view. Snow covered everything as far as my eyes could see. It was like something out of a painting, pristine and untouched. There were large pine trees surrounding the property, but they were off in the distance.
A massive oak tree sparkled and swayed in the light breeze outside the window. It was covered in frost, with its crooked, jagged limbs reaching out from the girthy trunk, appearing just as majestic as it would with green leaves. The morning sun made the ice crystals glitter like diamonds.
Girthy trunk? Majestic? It was official, being locked up in this room was going to cause me to lose my damn mind. Grabbing a piece of bacon off the plate, I leaned back in the chair, sighing.
"Good, you're up," his voice boomed from the doorway, and I jumped out of the chair. Thank god I hadn't been holding my coffee, it would have been all over me.
"What in the hell are you doing? Haven't you heard of knocking? What if I'd been naked?" My voice rising in anger, my heart still racing from the surprise.
"Why do I care if you were naked? I'll see it all eventually anyway." He glanced at his watch and shrugged, the gesture casual and infuriating. "In four days, to be exact. Why are you still in that dress?"
"Four days my ass, and what else did you expect me to wear?
You brought me here, under duress, and I have nothing but the clothes on my back.
I sure as hell wasn't going to parade around here in nothing but my underwear for your personal perversion.
" He just stood there, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, and a cocky grin on his face.
He looked completely at ease, like he owned the world. Which, I suppose, in his mind, he did.
"Your belongings are being sent over and will be here within the hour. I've also arranged for your dress fitting this afternoon. I can give you a shirt and pants to wear if you'd prefer."
"Your pants, I presume? I knew you were desperate, but isn't that a little much, Niccolò? How would I even keep them up?"
"Emilia, this offer is purely for comfort.
When I want you in my pants, you'll know it.
Also, it's called a belt." With that, he turned and left my room; the door was standing open, taunting me.
I don't know if he's testing me or if I'm supposed to follow him.
Either way, I should protest all his little plans and sit my ass back on the bed and not move.
But I can't. The temptation to see exactly what I can get away with takes over.
Maybe there's a weakness in his security I can exploit, a blind spot, a moment of inattention.
Peaking around the door, I watched Niccolò walking down the hallway, his stride confident and unhurried.
If I go left, I follow him, go right, and I could make a run for the door.
"Stop staring at my ass, and get over here.
" He yelled without turning around. Glancing one last time at the stairs, I lifted my dress and follow him.
"There's guards at every door twenty-four hours a day, and one at the gate you'd have to get through.
" He opened the door, and I followed him into what I assumed was his room.
It was massive, easily twice the size of mine, with dark-wood furniture and deep-blue accents.
"Every person in this house has been employed here for a minimum of ten years and is treated as part of this family.
They've all been made aware that you’re now their responsibility.
So please don't do something that will make me have to end their employment.
" The threat was clear. If I ran, innocent people would pay the price.
He disappeared into another room, and I didn't know if I was supposed to follow him or stay here.
I stood awkwardly in the middle of his bedroom, feeling like an intruder.
Niccolò returned in a white button-down shirt and black slacks.
It looked exactly like what he was wearing.
I could picture his closet lined orderly with the same clothes.
He struck me as a man who didn't stray from his usual routine and relied on structure.
Everything in its place, everything controlled.
"Do you need help?" He arched his brow as he held out the clothes.
"Pretty sure I know how to put pants and a shirt on." I shook my head and rolled my eyes.
"I meant with the zipper on your dress. It's down your back, and it might be hard to reach." His voice had softened, and I could feel heat creep across my face. Why was I embarrassed? He was the one who'd been making innuendos since he'd walked into my room this morning.
"Please." My voice was barely above a whisper.
"You'll change here. I won't have you wandering all over the house with your dress gaping open." He moved behind me, and his fingers brushed the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. His touch was surprisingly gentle, almost careful.
Slowly, he lowered the zipper, and I wasn't sure if he could move any slower.
Each tooth separating felt deliberate, measured.
His large hand brushed the top of my ass when he stopped.
The fabric did, in fact, gape open, and he ran his palm up my spine, his skin warm against mine.
"Where's the bathroom?" I asked hoarsely.