Page 31

C ontessa

My head is pounding. Blood is coursing through my veins, chased by adrenaline, making me feel delirious. I can only open my eyes a fraction, and when I do get a glimpse beyond my lids, everywhere is black as night. And I have no idea if it is indeed night time because I don’t know how long I’ve been knocked out for.

My awareness comes back in fragments. First, of my limited sight; second of my restricted movement. My hands are tied behind my back. When I try to move them, sharp ties bite into the skin. I don’t know how long I’ve been restrained like this but my shoulders already ache painfully from the unnatural position. My feet are tied, not together, but to a chair—two separate chair legs. And my mouth is immobile because something has been taped over it .

I realize with encroaching dread, I’ve been kidnapped, to be used no doubt for leverage with the Di Santo family. Why else would anyone want me? Even my stalker didn’t have a good reason for wanting to abduct me—he was simply insane.

My heart is banging against my ribcage because as much as I naturally try to make light of every situation, there really is no more doomed a situation than this one. The mafia don’t make friends or do deals. They make threats and do lasting damage, of the homicide variety. I won’t make it out of whatever place this is alive. The blood I did have running through me sinks to my toes, making me lightheaded. Then I hear a door close and long, firm footsteps heading toward me.

I start to hyperventilate. Knowing something of my fate is one thing, but not being able to see it coming is a torture unto itself.

I squeeze my eyes closed and pray for Benito to find me. When he finds out someone has drugged me and tied me up in some damp, disgusting basement… I shudder. He will kill them.

All my awareness is tunneled through my ears—they’re the only reliable sense I have right now. Something wooden is dragged across the floor and placed in front of me. Then I feel warmth at the side of my face as someone tugs at the knot in the blindfold.

I have to blink repeatedly to get used to the change in light, but it doesn’t take me long to recognize the person sitting in front of me. It’s the one person I’ve been more intimate with than anyone else in my life. It’s the man who only a few days ago called me his girlfriend . But now, as he glares at me like he’ll hate me until my dying breath, it’s the one person I suddenly feel most afraid of in the world.

A tide of confusion swells and ebbs in my stomach. Is this a joke? I search his face for some suggestion he’s still playing some weird game, but I draw a blank.

His eyes are black. So black . And ice cold. His brow is furrowed, casting the whole of his face in shadow. Even though he’s sitting calmly, his knees apart and his forearms resting on them, his spine is straight, his breaths steady, the movement of his fingers as he cracks his knuckles, impeccably controlled. There’s no warmth to him at all. In fact, his presence makes me feel as though I’ve been dropped into a tub of ice and held under while I gasp for air.

I suck a terrified breath in through my nose and try to shuffle the chair backward. Benito watches my repeated poor effort at moving out of his space, then he leans forward, grasps the seat between each of my thighs, and pulls me back to him as though I weigh nothing more than a rose petal.

I try to cry out in the hopes he gives up this horrible act, but the thick tape across my mouth pins my lips together making my words senseless.

He gives a small shake of head. “Scream all you want. We’re thirty feet below the ground. No one will hear you.”

Then he reaches forward and pulls the tape off my mouth. The soft skin of my lips burns .

I clench my teeth together. “Then why bother taping my mouth at all?”

He tips his head back slightly and regards me. “I don’t know how much of that stuff you breathed in so it’s possible you could have come round while I was getting you here.”

“And where’s ‘here’?”

His lips quirk into a cruel smile. “Oh Tess, you know I can’t tell you that. It would spoil all the fun.”

“If this is your idea of fun, there’s no wonder you’re single.” I’m shaking with fear but I can’t stop the smart comments coming out of my mouth.

He wipes his smile away with a curled fist.

I glance around the space. It’s a large room, empty but for a few boxes stacked in one corner. I try to read the logos to see if they’ll give me any clue as to where I am, but they’re too far away and it’s too dark to see clearly. What I can see, though, is a dark, crimson stain on the floor about six feet away. I almost wretch. This must be where Cristiano’s men bring their victims to torture confessions out of.

“This isn’t funny, Benito. I don’t want to play this game.”

He tips his head to one side and his eyes dance with morbid amusement. “Game? This isn’t a game, Contessa. At least, not one that I would have started.”

I narrow my eyes as if that might help me make sense of his riddle. “At what point do you bring me up to speed on why I’m here?” I sigh heavily, hoping for dramatic, but the air shivers too much as I breathe it out .

“I was wondering when you might ask that.” He stands and walks around the back of the chair. Despite his air of calm control, his fists are clenched and his jaw ticks as he grinds down on his teeth.

“But first, can I just say…” He uncurls his fists and turns his body to face mine, then brings his palms together in a slow clap… clap… clap. “Congratulations, Contessa.”

I frown and gulp down damp, frigid air.

He laughs bitterly and clasps his hands together. “You had me completely fooled.”

What?

He shakes his head again. “I even thought your feelings for me were genuine, but I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

He rests his forearms on the back of his chair and glares at me.

“What are you talking about?” I whisper. I feel a tsunami of dread fill up my core. I don’t think he’s playing around.

“You and Federico…” His tone cuts through the words like glass. The mention of my childhood best friend doesn’t feel right in this stark, empty room.

“You had me believe it was just some teenage crush on his part, that my actions forced you to sleep with him, and if you could turn back time, you wouldn’t have given him your virginity.”

“It’s t?—”

He cuts me off. “But that’s not exactly how it happened, is it? ”

My pulse races through my eardrums. I’ve no idea what Benito is getting at but his weighted stare and aggressive stance are scaring me.

“You don’t regret that night at all. You would have slept with him even if he hadn’t asked.”

I start to shake my head but he bellows at me. “It’s NOT a question.”

I jump with fright, my eyes so wide they hurt. I don’t understand what’s going on. I’ve never seen this side of Benito before and I’m terrified .

He straightens and starts pacing the floor. My gaze follows him side-to-side until he stops and looks over his shoulder at me. “You loved him.”

I want to scream that I didn’t but his temper is bristling over his entire body like a livewire.

“You still do.”

I’m too afraid to defend myself so I just let my lids close. Even when he’s burning up with bitterness and anger, Benito Bernadi is still the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and the pain of seeing him hate me so much for reasons unknown to me is unbearable.

“Do you know how much that hurts?” His voice carries a softer note but I dare not look up. “To know that you’ve been lying to me? You had me think it was all my fault, when you’d wanted it all along. I suppose you were a little bit honest in the beginning… You said you hated me for having the Falconis sent away. Well, now it’s time for me to be a little bit honest with you. I can live with you hating me for that. What I can’t live with is knowing you’ve hated me all along , that you’ve been playing me this whole time to help Federico get his revenge…”

I look up sharply. His summary is so far from the truth it’s laughable. “What?”

He opens his jacket and pulls out a folded note. I recognize it immediately. It’s the note Bambi passed to me at the lunch. My stomach drops as I try to remember everything Federico wrote. I wasn’t able to take in or process a whole lot in because my mind and body were so preoccupied with being in the vicinity of this man.

“You’ve been writing to him,” he states.

“No, I?—"

He points to the note. “It’s here, Tess. In black and white. ‘I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to reply’. Reply, to what, Tess?”

“I—” Shit. I haven’t written to Federico in a few months but I kept it up for a long time. Still, it was before I became close to Benito. I haven’t anything wrong. “My letters. I write to him every month.”

His eyes narrow. “So, you knew his address?”

“No! I had a PO Box number. I have no idea where he lives.”

He ignores my defense and ploughs on. “You’ve been discussing ways to get revenge on me.”

My breaths are short and tight. “We never discussed that…” My gaze darts about, frantically. He talked about it before he left, but it was one sentence, Benito! I didn’t take him seriously. And I haven’t heard back from him at all… until now.”

“Until now? ”

He walks around the chair and holds the note up in front of me. “Don’t you mean two months ago?” He points to the date in the top corner and my heart plummets into the base of my stomach. The note is dated March, not long before I saw Benito that first time at Cristiano’s house. That day was the first time I ever spoke to Benito and I wasn’t polite to say the least. I look up into his eyes. They’re sad and hostile at the same time. “Interesting timing, wouldn’t you agree?”

I rewind back to that afternoon, trying to piece together the chronology of events. “Bambi gave it to me after lunch. I read it once but I was too preoccupied to process it so I put it in my bra to read properly later.”

A sadistic slant crosses his face as he straightens. Then he laughs. “You expect me to believe that? The timing is too perfect, Contessa. You’ve hated me for three long years, then you show up at Cristiano’s and suddenly your childhood sweetheart is ‘replying’ to your letters explaining in some detail how he’s planning to exact his revenge on me. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

My heart is rocketing around making me feel nauseous. “Benito?—”

His jaw grinds, then he holds up three fingers. “You were thinking about him when I ate you out on the hood of your car,” he rasps, ticking off one finger. “You were thinking about him when you came to my apartment and jerked me off.” Second finger. “You were thinking about him when you crawled to me.” Third finger.

I shake my head frantically. “That’s not true! ”

“What do you know about the Marchesis?” he shouts, spit landing on the damp floor.

My hands curl into fists behind the chair. “They killed my mother!”

“And?”

Tears start to well in my eyes. I can’t believe this is happening. “What do you mean ‘and’? Isn’t that enough? They took away the most important person in my life.”

Damp air licks at the streaks on my face as tears course down it and drip to my knees.

Benito pauses for a second, then inhales deeply. “What is Federico’s involvement with them?”

I sniff, unable to wipe my nose, and look up through watery eyes. “I don’t know, Benito. I haven’t spoken to Federico in three years. I promise you, I don’t know anything.”

He folds his arms, continuing to regard me with real, venomous suspicion. I have a terrifying feeling I’m not getting through to him. He doesn’t believe me.

His voice dips even lower. “When is he coming here?”

“What?” I hiccup through a sob.

“Federico,” he repeats. “When is he coming here to ‘ruin’ me?”

I shake my head and don’t reply. There’s no point when he doesn’t believe a word that comes out of my mouth.

Seconds pass that are only filled by the sound of my soft cries .

“When Cristiano finds out you’ve tied me up in some basement…” I choke out.

“He knows.”

That stops my tears instantly.

“And Trilby?”

Benito waves a hand like it’s irrelevant. “That depends on how much he tells her.”

I feel a small nugget of hope in my belly. There’s no way in this world Trilby would allow Benito to hold me hostage like this. It’s unbelievable.

“You’re colluding with someone who is affiliated with the Marchesi’s, Contessa. And as you said, they killed your mother. And Trilby should know… She was there.”

He leaves those words to penetrate my brain. If Trilby believes this, then the rest of my family could too. The thought makes me feel hollow and helpless.

“I’ll leave you to think about that, Contessa.”

“No—” I glance up sharply. “You can’t leave me here.”

“You need some time to reflect, I think.”

“No, Benito, please…” More tears pour from my eyeballs. I had just started to care for this man, but the first suggestion that I might be keeping the truth from him, he gives the benefit of the doubt to Federico, not me.

He’s about to walk out of the room when he stops and turns to look at me over his shoulder. “Federico was right about one thing though… ”

I hold his gaze, seeking the warmth I once found there but finding none.

“He does know my Achilles heel.” He feeds his hands into his pockets and regards me one last time. “It’s you . And he’s done what he set out to do. He’s ruined it.”

Then he spins back around and walks to the far end of the room. He pulls open a door and exits, leaving me alone, in tears and feeling so utterly helpless I could die.