Page 4

Cara

Beneath the heavy blanket, the air is stuffy, and I can feel a ring of sweat around my scalp; the dress feels constricting, the corset digging into my skin.

I can’t lay like this much longer, I need to get some air, but I have no idea how much further it is to our destination.

If I am even going to get there alive at all.

He hasn’t said a word to me since he took me from the hotel—not that I was expecting witty conversation.

I just want to know who he is, why he is doing this, and what exactly his motives are for breaking into the hotel on my wedding day and stealing me away just moments before I was due to walk down the aisle.

He must know who I am, who my father is, so he must be aware of how much danger he is in, doing something like this.

I shuffle around beneath the blanket, the rumble of the car rocking me this way and that as I try to at least unhook the corset.

If I am going to be kidnapped, then I want to do it in clothes that will not constrict me if I try to make a break for it.

Though I get the feeling that he will make me pay if I so much as think about escaping.

I manage to find the hook of one of the layers of the corset, and I grope around until I can push the hook back out of the eye. There, almost got it, just a little?—

"What the fuck are you doing?"

I freeze. His voice is sharp and laced with anger; I can’t see his face, but I can picture it.

From the moment he laid eyes on me, he’s talked to me with nothing but disdain and distrust, even though I have never met him before.

It must be something to do with my father, something to do with his business.

"I’m just taking off my corset," I mumble back, though the words are muffled by the fabric of the blanket.

"I told you, don’t try anything," he warns me. "If you think I won’t kick you out on the road?—"

I inch the blanket back a little, trying to get a look at him. His eyes dart to mine in the mirror, and a flash of fury crosses his face.

"Get back under there," he spits. "Keep your face hidden. I’m not telling you again."

"We’re in the middle of nowhere," I protest, as I peep up to the window to see streaks of trees and fields passing by. "It’s not like anyone will see me. I need to breathe, it’s?—"

"I said, get back under there!”

The roar in his voice sends me skittering back beneath the blanket, my heart hammering in my chest. I have no idea where we’re going, but I can tell that any more attempts to push my luck are only going to end in disaster.

I don’t know what this man is capable of, and if I’m smart, I will not have to find out.

I still can’t believe this is happening. Just as I was about to go down the stairs to the man I’m meant to marry, this stranger bursts in through the window of the hotel and orders me to scramble down the lattice before he forces me into his car. None of this makes sense.

And yet, there is a part of me that almost wants to thank him.

I have no clue what he is going to do with me, what he has planned once he gets me far enough away from the city, but I know that it means I won’t have to go through with the marriage to Mario.

At least for the time being. I can’t imagine that my father is going to let me dodge my duties that easily, but if I get a stay of execution on my wedding night, I will take it.

Did I put up enough of a fight? I don’t know what more I could have done, especially when he pulled the gun on me.

I know this is part of my father’s world, the violence, the rivalries, but Dad has always gone out of his way to insulate me from having to deal with it.

When he drew that weapon and pressed it to my side, it was like all the breath was knocked from my body, and the only thing I could do was obey.

But if he thinks that I am going to be that easy to control... I have some bad news for him.

After what feels like an eternity, the car slows to a halt beneath me, and I hear him climbing out.

I listen to his footsteps as he approaches my side of the car.

He pulls open the door, and then tugs back the blanket that’s been draped over me for the entire ride.

As soon as I gulp down some fresh air, I scramble out of the car and glare him down.

"Where are we?” I demand. It looks to me like we’re in the middle of some forest. A canopy of green lies above us, a few shafts of sunlight studded where the leaves break to allow the sky through.

"Doesn’t matter. This way."

He grabs my arm, and steers me towards a path. It leads a little further into the woods, and, if I know one thing, it’s that I shouldn’t wander off into the forest with a man I don’t know. Especially when he has a gun.

I dig my heels into the soft ground below, and stop dead in my tracks, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not exactly dressed for a hike."

He pauses, facing away from me, and I can see the tension rising in his body at the sound of my words. I shouldn’t be pushing him like this, but hell, maybe if I can annoy him enough, he’ll think better of keeping me here...?

"I have clothes at the cabin. Move."

"The cabin?” I ask him, raising my eyebrows, still not taking a single step. "Why are you doing this? Who are you?”

His face darkens, and he finally turns to face me. I can see the bulge of his gun in his pants, and a cold shudder rushes through me at the sight of it. I need to remember what he is capable of—what he could do to me. I’ve already been held at gunpoint once today, and I don’t intend to repeat it.

"You don’t need to know what this is about. You just need to do what you’re told. This way."

He takes my arm and pulls me along roughly, and I nearly careen straight into the ground below. I let out an indignant squeak, trying to wrestle myself out of his grip, but it’s no use.

"Slow down!” I protest, and this time when he rounds on me, I can tell that I have pushed things too far.

His handsome face is twisted into a mask of fury, his eyes dark with anger.

He grabs my face in his hand, tilting my chin up so I have no choice but to look into his eyes.

His grip is tight, leaving no room for argument, and I know that I am staring into the eyes of a man who is willing to do far, far worse to me if I don’t start behaving.

"If you think I’m going to let a Leone tell me what to do," he snarls at me, "you’ve got a lot to learn. Keep your mouth shut, keep your voice down, follow me, and you might make it to the end of this day alive. Got it?”

For a moment, I can’t come up with the words to reply.

There is something about the way he’s holding me that’s almost intrusive.

People don’t talk to me like this, let alone men, and my father would certainly never have allowed some man to grab me by the face when I was talking back to him.

Hell, he’d have likely killed anyone who tried.

And yet, as his thumb rests just an inch or two from my bottom lip, it seems as though everything else has vanished from my mind, leaving nothing but the feel of him in front of me.

Finally, I manage to nod, and he drops my face, turning back to the path and guiding me through the trees. I lift my skirts and do my best to catch up; I wasn’t kidding when I said that this was hardly the outfit for hiking, and I feel as though I snag on every tree branch I pass.

Eventually, though, we round a corner and I find myself staring at a log cabin. It looks like the kind of place a hunter would live out of, barely big enough for a single person, but my kidnapper strides up to the door and unlocks it, gesturing for me to get inside.

"This is where you expect me to stay?” I ask, as I come to a halt, my feet aching in these heels.

"You can sleep in the woods, if you prefer," he shoots back, jerking his head inside.

I glance around, for a moment considering taking him up on that offer, but then I let out a sigh, brushing the thought off and doing as I’m told.

I’ve never been somewhere this rural before in my life; the closest I have come is staying in a luxury villa that my father owns on the outskirts of Bologna, and even that had a live-in chef and a swimming pool.

Somehow, I doubt that this place will have the same luxuries. ..

Inside, the place is tiny. There is room for little more than a kitchen that opens out to a small living space, a fireplace surrounded by three chairs, and two doorways that lead through to what I assume are the bathroom and bedroom.

The floor creaks as I pass over it, and my lips turn downward as I take in my new surroundings.

"What is this place?" I ask as I turn back towards him. Now that I’ve done everything he asked of me, he has to explain himself, right? But he’s not even looking at me, instead striding over to the fireplace where he starts to stoke up some flames. He doesn’t reply, utterly ignoring me.

I plant my hands on my hips and stare down at him as he finally brings to life a flash of fire in the hearth.

I feel ridiculous, standing here in this tiny log cabin in my dirt-stained dress, a few twigs and leaves still clinging to my hair and the fabric of my gown.

A rush of anger hits me all at once; who does this man think he is, stealing me away from my wedding like this?

I mean, yes, of course, I didn’t want to go through with it, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stand by all demure and sweet while this person orders me around and threatens me.

"I’m talking to you!” I exclaim, jabbing my finger in the air at him. As he looks at me, his eyes flicking back and forth between my own, I can tell that I’ve made a mistake. I draw back as a dark shadow flits across his face, whatever patience he might have had left slipping away.