Chapter 2

My head hurt something fierce. That was the first thing that I realized as I came back, slowly and foggily, to consciousness. The next thing that I realized, was that I was no longer in that fated alleyway. My head rested against a pillow, my back was against some sort of cushion, and the television was on.

My eyes blinked open a little, and I squinted at the sudden light. A few moments of adjusting also had me realizing that there were bounds at my wrists and ankles, keeping me from moving too much. Odd, that I hadn’t been gagged.

As far as I could tell, aside from the sound of the television, I was entirely alone. That being said, I didn’t dare move more than to look around, try to crane my neck to see if I could find any trace of the person who had brought me here, who—

A lump formed in my throat as I remember what led me to being here in the first place. The sight of Viktor, dead on ground, is one that forces its way into my mind. I could remember most vividly the blood, which I realized with horror as I looked down to my dress, was still there. It should have been a comfort that at least I hadn’t been undressed, or worse, but it wasn’t enough to make me feel fully at ease. I still didn’t know where I was. I didn’t even know who had taken me. I didn’t know if my father even knew by now that Viktor was dead.

“You’re awake now.”

I jumped at the sudden voice, looking around to see where it had come from. I saw no one, but heard footsteps. I waited with a renewed sense of anxiety, and watched as Viktor’s killer came around to the front of the couch. The brunette man with the brilliant green eyes.

He was indecent enough to be in nothing but a towel, wrapped around low on his waist. The blush that crept up my neck was involuntary, but I didn’t take my eyes away from him as I looked to his face. I didn’t want to give him a reason to think he was under my skin, in any sort of way. This was frightening. I still didn’t know what he wanted from me, why he’d killed Viktor, why he’d taken me. But I was the daughter of a Don. I needed to be strong.

We stared at each other in silence. The television murmured low in the background. I couldn’t make out what it was saying; it sounded like a news broadcast. It didn’t seem to take the attention of the man, either way. His green eyes bore down on me curiously, as if he were surprised. Was he expecting something else? Was he thinking that I would try to scream, or run? It would probably be a good thing to try, but even as the thought crossed my mind I had to remind myself that with all the screaming and fleeing in the world, that wouldn’t stop a bullet from silencing me.

“You’re awfully quiet for a little princess.”

My brow rose when he finally addressed me. His voice was deeper than I had expected it to be, and that wasn’t what I’d thought would come out of his mouth.

“Something tells me you wouldn’t want me screaming,” I said. “And it wouldn’t get me anywhere even if I did.”

His lips twitched, as if he were amused at some little joke. That made my eyes narrow.

“I wouldn’t say all that, cupcake. But you are right that it wouldn’t get you anywhere. No one would hear you all the way out here, anyway.”

“Don’t call me cupcake,” I snapped, irritated by the disrespect. “I don’t know who you are or why you took me – killed my fiancé – but if you think you’re going to get away with it, you’re an idiot. I’m –”

“I know exactly who you are, cupcake, and that’s really the only reason that you’re not dead right now with your little Russian boyfriend.”

I didn’t reply as he reached down to me, but I did flinch when his hands touched me. I squirmed, not wanting him too, as he sat me up on the couch, situating me feet to the floor and my back against the cushions. He squatted in front of me, and I glared down at him. This didn’t seem to have any effect on him.

“Corella Maria Bellini.” My eyes widened as he recited my name perfectly. “You’re the only child to Don Leon Bellini, only the most powerful Italian mob boss to walk the streets in the last four and a half decades. Very impressive, by the way.” And oh, he did sound impressed. “That Russian guy I shot was Viktor Petrov… Who happened to be the youngest son of Vladimir Petrov. Also a mob boss. Lucky me.”

“I wouldn’t say it was,” I said, sneering.

The man shrugged. “Depends on your perspective.”

“And what’s yours?”

“My perspective is that while I probably couldn’t hope to fight off two mob bosses on my own, I could probably buy myself some protection handing over Don Leon’s one and only baby girl. Vlad has a number of other sons, and I’m sure your dear old dad cares more about getting you back than he does about Vlad getting his revenge. Maybe he’ll even offer you as a consolation prize to Vlad and give you to one of his other sons. Win, win for everyone. I don’t die, and you keep being a cute little bargaining chip, huh?”

I was quiet the entire time that he spoke. My anger… my frustration… It all mounted as he continued to speak, so effortlessly, without remorse, as if this were an amusing situation to him.

“And how do you know all of this?” I asked levelly. “Who are you? A mole? An informant?”

Again, the man shrugged. I had the urge to kick my legs out and knock him between his legs, but my desire for answers was stronger. For now.

“It didn’t take long for the news to pick up the fact that Viktor Petrov had been shot point blank in the dead of night. People – wait staff, random witnesses, the like – also knew that you were out and about with him. It didn’t take long for the story to start to circulate about the mob boss’ dead son and the Don’s missing daughter – it’s pretty easy to piece together the rest, given how mob marriages work. The wild theories going around are so interesting. Some people are wondering if maybe Vladimir took you for himself, you know. My sources tell me your father doesn’t disbelieve those rumors. They fear a complete turf war.”

“And I suppose that was your plan? Why else would you do something as stupid as killing someone so high up on the food chain as Viktor?”

“It was an accident,” he said simply. “I got the wrong mark.”

My eyes narrowed further.

“You got the wrong mark? Some wrong mark. You killed my fiancé.”

The man stood then.

“Enough questions, princess. It’s my turn. First and foremost, you have to know I’m not letting you go until I have my ducks in a row and I can ensure an easy trade without you… impeding my livelihood. You gonna stay put like a good girl?”

It was my turn to give him a smirk. “If I told you yes?”

He eyed me for a moment and laughed.

“With that look on your face, I would say that you’re lying. But it’s alright. I’m gonna show you something.”

Again, he put his hands on me. It was with a shocking ease that he pulled me to my feet, and he moved me around the couch, to an open window. It struck me as odd, if my being missing was already on the news, that he would leave windows open for anyone to look in and see me, but when he brought me over and made me look out, I could see why.

There was nothing outside. Nothing but was seemed like a stretch of deserted waste. A long, winding gravel driveway curved on and on away from the home until it disappeared. There was dirt on either side, and no other buildings – there wasn’t even a single tree. We were entirely isolated, and with the laugh from the man following my realizing intake of breath, he had to know that I put that together. I knew there were large expanses of land outside the main city, the problem was knowing exactly where it was we were in that large expanse of land.

And I had no idea.

“See, Princess. Looks like you’re going to be stuck with me. Promise I don’t bite.”