He moved toward the door, raking his hands through his glorious hair.
Undaunted by his threat, I jumped off the bed, grabbing the bucket and tossing it at him. His quick reflexes allowed him to deflect the attack and the contents; however, it was flung all over the wall. He stiffened, shooting me another stern look. "Clean that up, Francesca. You're collecting some serious demerits that I will be forced to deal with. Dinner is in one hour. Do not be late." He placed his hand on the doorknob. "I will trust you enough not to lock the door, but if you're debating escaping, I'd think again. There will be two guards placed at your door at all times and I assure you, they are very well trained with authority to do what's necessary in order to keep you in line."
I folded my arms, angry with myself for being so impetuous. "Just tell me one thing."
"You haven't earned that right."
"One. You kidnapped me against my will. I believe I deserve to know your name."
He seemed to be thinking about my request, turning just enough in order to slide a lewd gaze all the way down to the tips of my toes. "Fair enough. My name is Michael Cappalini."
Stunned, I tumbled backward until I fell against the dresser, wincing the moment he closed the door.
Michael Cappalini, son of mafia kingpin Ricardo Cappalini, considered the most notorious and dangerous man in all of California. And the bastard had given me a spanking. "Fuck." Francesca
Captured.
Kidnapped.
I'd never even considered the concept until now. While my father had been an excellent teacher, training me in various methods of assault, he'd never fully explained the reality of being captured by a predator.
And Michael Cappalini was certainly a dark, imposing, and volatile predator.
He was also an actor, having shoved aside his upbringing for a more glamorous life. The irony that he had been the one to kidnap me left me with far too many questions. What was the purpose? My guess was thwarting the attempt at taking control of the West Coast. I was merely a pawn.
However, he was playing a very tedious and dangerous game. I'd heard enough of the scuttlebutt regarding the recent murders that occurred at a nightclub only a few miles away from my apartment. His father's men had been murdered, gunned down in the street. Then his father had been shot, was presumed dead. Maybe this was simply about revenge. How deep was my father into all of this? My father was brutal in every manner, but this wasn't like him.
The Saltoris? I could buy they would attempt a takeover.
I rubbed my bottom for the fourth time, cursing under my breath. I wasn't going to tolerate his discipline for any reason. I'd make that very clear. To hell with him.
I'd renege on my deal with the devil.
I finished cleaning the wall after having found an entire closet full of towels and toiletries. The shower itself, even while standing under the sizzling steam, left me cold inside. Terrified. I'd heard the guards talking, chatting just outside of the room as if they had no care in the world. They were merely on an assignment.
After wiping the condensation from the mirror, I glared at my reflection. I had indeed wished to be taken away from my impending marriage, longing for another chance at life. This wasn't what I had in mind. When the steam had cleared, I shifted in order to see my ass-my well spanked ass-shuddering from the thought of being turned on.
Okay, so I hadn't enjoyed a sexual encounter in at least two years. Thank God Vincenzo had never attempted, preferring me chaste for my wedding night. Another round of revulsion hit me. Which was worse; being trapped with a man like Michael or a lifetime spent with a vile creature like Vincenzo?
I could only explain my absurd thoughts by exhaustion wrapped up in fear.
With the towel still wrapped tightly around my body, I took a few moments to glance out the window. We were in the middle of nowhere. I could see nothing but trees and green for as far as the eye could see. I knew nothing about the Cappalini holdings, had never bothered to learn because it hadn't mattered to me.
Now?
I realized I'd been a fool.
My father had always told me to research our enemies, including in the United States. He knew facts and figures like the back of his hand on every kingpin's operation. I'd grown bored after two minutes.
I shifted toward the closet, curious as to what the jerk had left me to wear. The simple dress was emerald in color, soft and luxurious. Did the man actually think I was going to enjoy being held prisoner? Another quiver shifted down my spine, sliding into my legs. There were no shoes and no underwear. Michael was a total prick.
I also double checked for anything I could use as a weapon. He wouldn't be that stupid. I jerked open the drawers of the dresser, not surprised to find it empty. The bathroom was well equipped and I jerked out the various things, biting back a laugh when I found one long metal nail file. It would have to do. At least the end was sharp. I had no problem attacking the bastard as necessary.
No matter the consequences.
The small clock in the room indicated I'd wasted almost the entire hour allotted. Following rules. His rules. The anger flowed as I slipped into the dress. I snickered, realizing the design of the frock allowed me to hide the file in the bodice. Wouldn't he be shocked when I stuck it directly in his eye? Maybe I'd choose his groin instead. Soon enough I'd be rescued. Then I would enjoy watching him carved up, sliced and diced by men working for my father. In the meantime, I'd inflict my own level of damage. They wouldn't hesitate in their methods, enjoying their work of tormenting him for hours on end. Why should I?
At least I could relish the thought.
The file in place, I stood behind the door for the few remaining minutes, gathering my courage. I was forced to admit, I was intrigued by Michael and his reasons for kidnapping me. He had his entire life ahead of him, no need to follow in his father's footsteps. Why the change? Why the need to enter into a war where there could be so many casualties? Michael had no idea as to the lengths my father would go to in order to secure my release.
He also had no idea of my father's capacity for revenge.
I finally opened the door, feeling smaller than my five-foot eight-inch height as I walked into the doorway.
The soldiers gazed up and down the length of me before glancing at each other. I could feel the heat of their eyes, the hunger hidden behind their well-trained exterior. They would never be allowed to touch but looking and yearning was another thing altogether.
"I'm expected," I threw out, not bothering to wait for them. They gave me the creeps, even though I'd been around well-trained soldiers all my life.
"Hold on," one of the brutes commanded.
I stopped short, refusing to turn back in their direction. "Yes?" I heard his approach and cringed. The damn file was biting into my skin already.
"Need to make certain you're clean," he grumbled.
"Do you really think I have a gun or a knife located somewhere under this dress?" The second asshole snickered. I shivered. He was going to search me. Shit. Shit. Shit.