Page 6

Katie

“Oh, hi, Leo. Are you coming to join me?”

His nostrils flare. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m sunbathing, silly. Hey, while you’re here, will you put some cream on my back?" I climb off the lounger and stand facing the house. I hear a few whistles and male chatter coming from within.

“Cover yourself immediately!” Leo stands in front of me, shielding my body from the view of the house. His face is red, with beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

“How can I get a tan if I am all covered up?”

“Sunbathing is over.” He removes his shirt and puts it around me.

Mesmerised by his tanned, chiselled chest, I let him dress me.

Taking my hand, he pulls me to the house.

My hand feels so small in his. Stopping on the patio, he notices the broken glass and my lack of footwear.

Leo picks me up in one quick scoop, as if I’m light as a feather.

Marco is standing at the door. He moves at the last second to let us pass.

His face is full of annoyance at the sight of us.

I give him a cheesy smile and wink as we go past him.

Leo carries me to the bedroom and throws me onto the bed.

“Why do you disrespect me?” Leo stands at the foot of the bed with his dark, angry eyes upon me. “You belong to me now.”

“I belong to no one,” I spit back at him.

Leo dives onto the bed, his body on top of mine, legs on either side of my hips, elbows on either side of my head.

He whispers in my ear, “You belong to me. You always have, and you always will. You just don’t know it yet. But you will learn. Every. Little. Part of you—” He licks the edge of my ear with the tip of his tongue. “—belongs to only me. Mine to look at. Mine to touch. Mine to taste.”

“Don’t you touch me!” I push him off me, and to my surprise, he gets up.

“I will only touch you when you beg me to.”

“Ha, that will never happen.”

“We will see. Now get dressed. I am taking you out.”

I put on a summer dress and some comfortable wedge sandals. A bit of light makeup and a wave in my hair will have to do. Leo exits the bathroom, once again wearing in his usual suit. He frowns as he takes me in.

“What? At least I am dressed for the weather. Don’t you get a little hot, always wearing a suit?”

“Let’s go.” He ignores my statement and leaves the room. I follow him out to the front of the house.

“Questa non è una buona idea!” This is not a good idea! shouts Marco as Leo opens the car door for me to get in.

Leo ignores him. He starts the engine and drives away at top speed.

The car is a classic convertible. My hair blows in the wind as we drive. I hadn’t noticed in the dark on the way here, but the house is surrounded by a large vineyard.

“Wow, is this all yours, Leo?” I'm impressed.

“Yes. We grow grapes and lemons."

We exit the grounds and turn onto a road that runs along the cliff edge.

The view of the sea is spectacular. After about five minutes, we pull into a building at the side of the road.

Leo opens my door and leads me up a stone staircase.

At the top is a very traditional Italian restaurant with views looking out to the sea.

The restaurant looks very busy; all the tables are full .

“Signor Guerra, mi scuso per favore—due minuti.” Mr. Guerra, apologies, please—two minutes. The waiter looks panicked.

Leo checks his phone. I watch the waiter.

He approaches a couple eating at a table overlooking the sea.

Speaking to them with his head down, he clears their plates while they are still eating.

The man stands up, saying something to the waiter and looks, quite rightly, very annoyed.

The waiter gestures towards Leo. After a quick glance our way, the couple both help clear the table.

What on earth? Once the table is cleared and reset, the waiter calls us over.

“You do realise the waiter made a couple move halfway through eating so we could sit here?” I mention as we sit down.

Leo shrugs. “This is where I like to sit. He will have moved them to another table.”

“No, he didn’t. There are no other tables available. They are standing up at the bar, eating their soup.”

Leo doesn’t look in their direction. He just stares at me quizzically.

“What would you like to drink, Katherine?”

“Prosecco would be nice.”

“Good choice.”

The waiter appears, and Leo orders our drinks. I have so much I want to say to him, to ask him, but I do not know where to start. So I just sit in silence, taking in the view while sipping my drink.

The prosecco is delicious. Crisp, fruity, and cold. Leo stares at me intently, watching me drink every sip.

“You make this, don’t you?”

“Yes. Well, not me personally, but that is a Guerra Prosecco,” he answers proudly.

The waiter puts some plates down in front of us.

“What is this?” I stare at the plate in front of me.

“Burrata al Tartufo. It’s a mozzarella cheese with mushrooms and truffles.”

“I can order my own food, Leo. Do I not even get to choose what I eat now?”

Leo smirks at me and offers me the menu. Damn. It’s all in Italian, which is fine because I understand Italian, but I don’t want him to know that yet.

I think back to when we met. We would spend our days together teaching each other our languages.

It’s ignorant of him to think that I would not continue to learn his language while he has learnt mine so fluently.

Leo definitely taught me how to say pollo, which is chicken.

I would always sneak chicken nuggets out of the restaurant for us to eat together.

It looks like I am having the chicken, then, annoyingly.

I would much prefer one of the fish dishes.

“I’ll have the pollo,” I say, putting down my menu.

Leo stifles a laugh.

The chicken is actually delicious, and I have polished off another two glasses of prosecco. Having swallowed a little Dutch courage, I decide now is the time to question Leo.

“So why me, Leo, out of all the women in the world?”

“Why not you?” Leo’s phone rings. He answers it when he sees the caller ID.

“Si?” Yes? “Come è successo di nuovo!?” How has this happened again!? “Impostare una riunione.” Set up a meeting. He ends the call and stands up. “We are leaving.”

On the journey home, Leo is very distracted, but I press for more answers.

“When is ‘our’ wedding, then?”

“In two months.”

That surprises me; it’s not as soon as I would have thought, which is good—it buys me some time. “My father has some medical treatments in a couple of weeks, which puts him out for a while. By then, he will be strong enough to attend the ceremony.”

The car is speeding through the narrow streets. I hold on to the seat to stop myself from being thrown into the side of the door. Leo looks tense.

“Is everything okay?”

“What?” he barks, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Is everything okay? The phone call at the restaurant—was it bad news?”

“No, everything is not okay!” Leo puts his foot down even further, throwing me back into my seat.

Going the speed we are, returning to the house doesn’t take long. He pulls to a quick stop at the front steps. He quickly rounds the car and flings my door open, not waiting for me to exit; he rushes into the house, shouting for Marco.

Back in my room, I get out the contract and read through it again, still in disbelief.

Number 7 on the list of what is expected of “Mrs. Guerra.”

7. The Guerra family must continue their bloodline therefore, a minimum of four children are expected to be born in the first six years of marriage. Two of these children must be male.

This can’t be legal. Surely, I cannot be forced into this.

I decide to ring Damien, my friend Bella’s husband. He owns a security and protection company and has dealt with many difficult situations. If anyone can get me out of this mess, Damien can. He answers on the first ring. Listening intently, he doesn’t say a word until I have told him every detail.

“Okay, Katie. Send me copies of everything you have been given. Coincidently, I know of Leonardo Guerra. He is a distant relative, although I don’t know him well.

The Guerras are a powerful family, Katie.

However, I don’t think you are currently in any immediate danger.

But you need to be careful. Try to keep the Katie cheekiness to a minimum.

I will contact my solicitor, Mr. Davies, as soon as we end this call.

Try not to panic; just give me some time. ”

Although I am a little disappointed Damien didn’t say how ludicrous this all was, that there’s no way he can force me to do this, I do trust Damien and have faith that he will sort this out for me.

I google Leonardo Guerra and the Guerra family, but all that comes up is their wine business.

I’m not an idiot; I know there’s more to Leo.

Trust me to promise marriage to the Italian Devil.

Putting all negative thoughts to the back of my mind, I take myself on a tour of the house.

It’s a beautiful modern Italian house. There are many different hallways; I lose my bearings a few times.

After having a nosey around the gym, which I will be using, the library, and numerous sitting rooms. I hear voices coming from behind a bookcase.

I quickly hide in the room opposite and watch through the crack in the door.

I’m mesmerised as the bookcase moves out and to the side, making way for Leo, Marco, and two other guys I don’t recognise.

Well, now I am intrigued. I need to find out what is through that secret door.

Unfortunately, the bookcase quickly returns to its place not long after the men disappear.

I burn some energy off in the gym. When I’ve finished my intense workout, my gym shorts and bra are soaked and stuck to my skin. Having had my earphones in, I’m startled to see Leo in the corner, watching me.

“Oh, you made me jump. How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough. I will always find you now, Kat-er-een. You cannot hide from me again.”

“I wasn’t hiding.”

Goose bumps spread across my body in the wake of his gaze.

“We are going out tonight. Have you got something sensible to wear?” His tone is sarcastic as his eyes roam my body .

“Well, that depends on what you mean by sensible.”

“I will find you something to wear.” He straightens from his leaning position against the wall.

“That won’t be necessary. I have plenty of clothes. Where are we going anyway?”

“To dinner with my family. Wear something decent... and underwear.” He glares at my nipples protruding through my sports bra before he turns and closes the door. The noise echoes throughout the gym.

On my way back to my room, I decide to check out the bookcase; it’s been on my mind throughout my workout.

After pulling on a few books that don’t move, I find one that gives way to reveal a number panel.

It doesn’t move an inch with my pushing and pulling, so I give up.

Deep male voices coming down the hall have my heart racing.

I quickly return to my previous hiding spot opposite.

In the rush, I haven’t returned the book to its position covering the control panel.

Panic sets in. I hold my breath and watch.