Chapter 3

• When I opened my eyes, my head was throbbing and my body felt heavy, and I wondered why it was so. It took me a while to recall the shootout at the wedding and the green-eyed guy injecting me something after he carried me to his car.
• Even though my body was screaming in pain and would have appreciated some rest, I needed to get up. My father could have died in that shootout, and Ben might be in danger since he was at Salvatore's house during the shootout. I needed to get up and figure out where I was and then look for my family. I wondered how much time had passed. Ben needed to take his medication. He had type 2 diabetes, and it was never good for him to skip medication. With me away from him, I was not sure if that happened.
• I sat up straight before opening my eyes. A sharp pain stuck my head and I held my head in my palms, trying to contain the headache. When the ache toned down, I looked around and the room I was in was completely lifeless. Just the bed and nothing else
• I jumped out of the bed and I was only in my pants; the gown I was wearing lay discarded on the floor, and I wondered who had taken it off me. But that was the least of my worries at the moment.
• I quickly grabbed the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around my body and walked to the window. I realized it was not a window at all, but rather a solid glass wall, completely sealed, with no way to open it. I was going to have to break it instead if this was to be my escape plan.
• I took a look outside. Nothing looked familiar. I had no idea where I had been taken. I leaned out a bit, trying to gauge the distance to the ground below, assessing whether it would be a safe journey for me to jump if I succeeded in breaking the window.
• My heart sank as I realized I was high up in the sky and I could not even see the ground.
• “Don't even think about that,” a voice from behind me startled me and I turned.
• Green-eyed, mafia-not-looking man walked into the room.
• “You will not be able to break those windows, and even if you can, you will be dead before you reach the ground,” he cautioned.
• He had the most soft and smooth voice I have ever heard. He sounded nothing like danger would but he was still the one who had drugged me and dragged me to wherever we were.
• “Where are we? Where the f*ck did you take me to?” I demanded, “And who the f*ck are you?”
• “You don't know who I am?” He raised his eyebrow while shoving his hands in his grey jogger pants that I suddenly noticed that they were hanging lower than his waist.
• “I just asked, now you answer me? Who the hell are you, and where the f*ck are we?”
• “Well, since we are going to be family, maybe I should introduce myself properly,” he said, his voice low and I could not help but notice the mockery in it.
• He took a few steps forward, moving close to me before he uttered, “Alessandro Conti, son to Salvatore Conti.”
• Green eyes was Salvatore’s son? Salvatore had mentioned his son at a point, but I had imagined a block of ice and darkness, a younger version of Salvatore. He was nothing like that. So different from his father, from his appearance to his aura. I had a hard time believing the two were related.
• “You are Salvatore’s son?” I had to ask and he nodded.
• “I suppose I should call you stepmom, Amelia Banks,” he said, his voice still laced with mockery
• “Don't you dare f*ck*ng call me that!” I shouted, my anger flaring, and he raised that perfect eyebrow again.
• “But you are. You are married to my father,”
• “Just don't call me that,” I said, “And you haven't answered all of my questions. Where the f*ck are we?”
• “Oh, you got to ask questions? I thought my father's whores are paid to do what they are told to do and not ask questions.”
• “Did you just call me wh*r*?” I asked, disbelief washing over me at his audacity to call me names when he was the son of Salvatore. His blood was tainted just from that.
• “I am not anybody's wh*r*,”
• “Didn't my father pay for you?” he said calmly, his eyes boring into mine with no shame or remorse if he had not just insulted me.
• “Your father...” I busted but caught myself before I said anything else.
• Salvatore had made it clear nobody was to know the terms of our agreement and I was not sure if that also included his son.
• “What?”
• “Nothing,”
• “You were about to say something about my father,”
• “Not anymore. It is none of your business.”
• He slowly nodded, “Well, I don't plan to make it my business so thank you for not saying whatever it is that you were about to say. I had come to check if you were alive or dead. Now that I have seen you are alive, I will take my leave,” he said and turned to live.
• “Wait,” I said and he turned to look at me.
• “What happened back then? Is my father okay? How about my brother?” I asked and he shook his head.
• “I don't know,” he simply answered.
• “How the f*ck don't you know?!”
• “The same way you don't know. We left together and we are here together.”
• “But you should know something! Haven't talked to your father? Anyone?” I shouted with frustration.
• “I got no news for you, sweetheart,” he shook his head and left.
• “Alessandro!” I called his name out and took a step in an attempt to go after him but I stumbled on the sheet and fell down as the door banged closed.
• I knew there was no way of getting myself out here. This was probably one of those mafia safe houses I had read about. So for now, I needed to know if my father and my brother were okay. And maybe get something comfortable to wear. Just then my stomach growled, reminding me I had not eaten anything. My stomach had been in knots and I could not eat anything.
• I got up from the floor and looked for something to wear in the built-in cupboards and came out with nothing. So I just went in search of Alessandro with the sheet still wrapped around me.
• The place was not big, so it was easy to find him tucked behind a desk in the study room with a computer in front of him.
• “How can I help you?” he asked without looking up, still staring at his computer.
• “Some clothes to wear would be a good start,” I answered, “And some food in my stomach.”
• He looked up at me. His eyes traveled up and down my body as if he were sizing me up. Or maybe, he was ogling me.
• I felt my body getting warmer and I wrapped my hands around my body, securing the sheet that covered me.
• Alessandro chuckled and stood up from his chair.
• “I will get you something,” he said leaving the room and I followed him. He got into what I assumed to be his room and I stood outside.
• A few minutes later, he came out holding a pair of joggers and a T-shirt.
• “Thank you,” I said as he handed them to me and he only acknowledged me with a nod before walking away.
• “What about food?” I asked and he stopped on his tracks and placed his hands on his waist, sighing.
• “Listen, I am not your babysitter here, okay? Find something in the kitchen, and leave me to do my work in peace,” he scolded and I frowned.
• I had not bothered him. I had only asked for two simple things and he was there, acting I am the world's most nagging person.
• “Before you go back to what you were doing, can I ask you something? I will not bother you after this,”
• “What?”
• “Is there a way you can find out if my father and my brother are okay?”
• “No, there is not,” he answered.
• “You can't call your father and ask?”
• “I do not call my father.
• “You don't call your father or won't call your father?"
• "I don't call my father, period,"
• “Oh,” I simply said and asked nothing else. Though I really wanted to know why he didn't call his father, I didn't want to pry.
• “Yes, oh. I am sorry to tell you this, but if you miss your husband, you will have to wait for him to come here,” he said and walked away.
• I sighed and turned in the direction where I had seen the kitchen earlier on. I was not going to get anything from him so I decided to leave him alone and wait for his father to come and I hoped he was not going to take long.