Page 19

CHAPTER 19

Sienna

I ’m lying in bed, flipping through a book about the rise and fall of Roman civilization because I’m too embarrassed to tell Alessandro that I read smut, when the glass door beeps green and slides open.

I raise my head from the book and try to bite back the giddy smile that spreads across my face.

My smile dies a quick death when I see the man standing at the door.

It’s one of Alessandro’s men, the one in charge of making sure I don’t leave the building. He’s also the same one who installed the new TV and set up Netflix on it.

His head is shaved clean, and tattoos cover him all the way to almost the top of his head. The first time I stepped out of my bathroom and saw him in my room, I screamed bloody murder. Until he smiled.

He smiles now. “Miss D’Addario.”

I glance down at his hand and see a huge black box tied with a bow in my favorite color. “What do you have there?”

“It’s from the boss,” he replies with a shrug. “He says he’ll be coming to get you in thirty minutes, one hour tops.”

“Get me?” I raise an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t ask questions when the boss gives me instructions.” He plops the package down on my bed, then turns and walks away. I wait for the door to shut and the light on it to blink red before I leap for the box, unable to control my curiosity.

I tear off the cover of the box and push aside the tissue wrapper. The first thing I pull out is a black Louis Vuitton sandal with four-inch pointy heels. My eyes widen when I spot the red fabric next.

Holy shit.

Half an hour later, I slide the red dress up over my hips and do some jumping and maneuvering to be able to do up the zipper at the back. By the time I’m done, I have to stop and catch my breath.

I’m slicking on lipstick when the door beeps open again.

I whirl around with a smile and then freeze as I set my eyes on the gorgeous, blue-eyed man standing across the room from me.

“Fuck, Si,” he rasps. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

I can’t speak, my eyes drinking him in greedily. It doesn’t matter that I’ve seen him nearly every day, and it doesn’t matter that he has twisted me into every position possible in this room and had his head between my legs barely six hours ago.

None of it matters because he still manages to take my breath away every single time.

The dark tux and bowtie he has on at the moment only serve to make him look more distinguished and irresistible.

“You’re wearing a bowtie,” I say, feeling at a loss.

He walks forward until he’s a hairsbreadth from me. “Am I? I can’t tell.”

“What’s happening?”

“What’s happening is that right now, I want to push you against the wall and kiss you so hard that you forget your name, and then I want to put my hand between your legs and check how glad you are to see me before I push that dress over your hips, move your panties to the side, and bury myself to the hilt inside your hot, tight cunt.”

My breath wavers, and I resist the urge to bite down on my lip. “Yes, please.”

He buries his face in my neck and then takes a deep breath. “Later. I want to take you somewhere first.”

I whine as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to my skin before pulling away. I pout at him, and he chuckles.

I glance over his shoulder, just now realizing that the door is open behind him. “Where are we going?”

He tangles his fingers with mine, something he has been doing more recently. The innocent contact has electricity crackling through me, and heat swirls in my belly.

I thought the animal attraction I feel for Alessandro would have waned by now, but instead, it just seems to be getting deeper, dragging me down into its dark depths.

“Come.” He leads me out the door and to the bank of stairs at the back of the apartment. Unlike the time when I tried to escape, I now take my time running my gaze over the rest of the apartment.

After being confined to one room for close to two months, all the space around me feels overwhelming, and I cling to Alessandro’s side tightly.

“Where does it lead?” I ask when I notice the stairs leading up. “I thought we were on the top floor.”

His only response is his mouth ticking up into a mysterious smile.

I let out an annoyed huff and allow him to lead me up the stairs and past a heavy metal door. We step out onto the wide expanse of the roof, and I suck in a breath at the sight before me.

Colorful flowers burst out of every corner of the roof, and there’s a flower arch ahead.

“Oh my God,” I gasp as I hurry forward through the arch.

Just ahead, there is a small canopy with a single table and two chairs in the center. Fairy lights hang around the ceiling of the canopy and illuminate the space.

“It’s beautiful,” I choke out. “When did you do all this? How did you do it?”

He holds my chair out for me. “I have my ways.”

If someone told me two months ago that I would be sitting at a romantic dinner with a deadly mobster while I was a captive of said mobster, I would have asked them to get their heads checked.

But here I am, dropping into the seat he’s holding out for me.

“Thank you,” I tell him with a pleased smile.

With a nod, he walks to a table at the side that I hadn’t noticed earlier and produces a tray with covered dishes. My eyes light up as he places the dishes before me and unveils them with a flourish.

“I feel like royalty right now,” I say with a laugh.

He bends down over me and brushes his mouth over mine in a kiss so featherlight that I barely feel it, yet my body trembles and my nipples harden, so attuned and sensitive to his every touch.

I don’t know where all this is coming from, but I’m afraid to ask for fear of ruining the moment.

Things between Alessandro and I have really changed. He’s no longer the terrifying, sadistic asshole to me that he had been that first day. First, he changed my wardrobe to the brightest colors that I favored, and then he set up a TV for me and even got me paints and canvas, which I haven’t touched yet.

It is terrifying how I now crave his presence, his touch, and those half-smiles of his.

I know all about Stockholm syndrome, but it isn’t that. There has always been an attraction between us, and we’ve fanned its flames by giving in to it.

I should hate him.

I shouldn’t feel pleased that he put in all this effort for me.

“Wine?” His voice breaks into my reverie, and I blink at the bottle of red wine in the crook of his arm.

“Yes, please,” I reply. “Are we celebrating something?”

“I saw the dress and thought it would look good on you. I was right, by the way,” he says. “And then I realized I had to create an occasion for you to wear it.”

“Thank you,” I tell him honestly. “I love it.”

Then, I glance down the sides of the building. The nearest building is quite a distance away, and I wonder where exactly we are.

“Cagliari.”

I raise a brow at him.

“We are in Cagliari,” he explains. “This area is being redeveloped by a company I own. I ordered them to stop construction for now so I can have the area to myself.”

My mouth drops open, and I turn my gaze back to the city. There’s really nobody for miles. Even if my foolhardy plan to escape had worked, I would have quickly found out that I was stranded.

“No one knows I own this building because the company is a subsidiary, and I own it under a different identity.”

I sit back with a smile I don’t feel. “You really thought your plan through. There’s not a single plot hole.”

His blue eyes find mine and hold them, and then he says seriously, “You’re the plot hole in my plan, Sienna.”

When he finally looks away, I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. I’m the plot hole in his plan? What does that mean? The question is on the tip of my tongue, but at the last moment, I decide I’m too much of a coward because I’d rather swallow my burning questions than ruin dinner.

After dinner, with my hand in his, we take the elevator to the eleventh floor. He types in the code for the door in one of the apartment complexes and allows me to precede him.

“What is this place?” I ask, squinting into the dark space.

Behind me, he drags a lever down, and the lights flicker on. There are no windows in the apartment. It’s just one large box with endless rows of paintings lining the walls.

I spin around, taking in the splash of color everywhere. Then, I caught sight of the paintings he had me evaluate on the day I was taken.

“The Revelation would have made a good addition to your collection,” I tell him sadly.

“No, it wouldn’t.”

I flinch and then duck my head to hide the hurt from his words.

His feet come into view, the tip of his shoes kissing mine, and then he grabs me by my jaw and raises my head until his electrifying eyes are on mine. “The Revelation is better than everything in this room. And that’s why it’s not here.”

My forehead wrinkles. “What do you mean? You have paintings by great artists and?—”

“Sienna,” he cuts in, “if only you could see your work through my eyes. Your paintings would have made the rest of my collection look like cheap knock-offs, which is why they have a place of honor as the only works of art hanging in my home.”

I go from confusion to doubt to surprise in the span of seconds. And finally, my heart soars. “Y—you have them?” I step forward and press my mouth to his. “Thank you, Ale.”

He doesn’t tense like the first few times I used the nickname.

As I turn to explore the space, his fingers drag down my spine, which is exposed by the non-existent back of the red dress.

“What happened to you?” he asks.

I let out a breath. I’m surprised it took him this long to ask about the spine tattoo. The artist did a good job of covering up the scar, but it’s still visible at close inspection.

“I got the scar when I was thirteen.” I swallow as the memories assault me. “After my mother died, I spent the summer with my uncle. Dad was too busy burying his grief under endless work hours, and I was kinda glad to be away from it.”

Alessandro’s hand settles on my hip, and he spins me around to face him, his face a blank mask.

“My uncle was…he used to drink. I don’t know if he still does. I haven’t heard about him in years,” I shrug as if I hadn’t spent years feeling rotten after the incident. As if it hadn’t reshaped me entirely. “I should have seen the signs. A touch here, a hug that was just a little too long there, a kiss to my cheek that lingered too long. I soaked it all up, you know. The stupid kid who just wanted some affection after losing her mum and feeling like she lost her dad too.”

“You were a child.”

“I should have known better,” I choked out, tears filling my eyes and running over. “I was asleep when I felt someone’s hands on me. The room was dark, and I was groggy. I didn’t understand what was happening, why his hands were squeezing my breasts or—” I trail off, ashamed.

I don’t know why I’m telling him these things. I’ve never told anybody else, not even Kat. There’s just something about Alessandro, something that makes me want to fall into him and bare all those long hidden parts to him.

His thumb begins to make circles on my hip encouragingly.

“I fought as hard as I could because it felt wrong. But he was too strong. I managed to get away. I was going to run across the courtyard to the neighbors when he fell and grabbed me by my ankle. The path was rocky and steep. Those country hills and their uneven terrains. I remember falling and thinking I would die. But I didn’t.”

Alessandro’s jaw clenches, and I rush to assure him. “He was sorry afterward. He didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean for me to get hurt.”

“He hurt you, Sienna. Don’t make excuses for him. He didn’t just hurt you. I can see he broke something inside you.”

“I’m fine,” I insist. “It’s been years. I should be over it now.”

But I’m not, and I don’t think I’ll ever be. I still flinch when people brush up against me. Throughout my relationship with Sal, I found excuses to avoid intimacy and then faked it the two times we went all the way.

He broke me.

“Come here,” Alessandro whispers.

Going to him, I bury my face in his chest and weep for thirteen-year-old Sienna, who had to live through that experience, and the Sienna now, who still exists with that stain on her soul.