Chapter XVIII

Breakfast was quiet after that.

I was just about to go back up the stairs when I was pulled back by my arm.

I was pressed against a hard chest. If this continues, I'll get whiplash.

I looked up and saw Dante's beautiful ice-blue eyes. Nice? Oh, pull yourself together, Anastasia!

He just looked at me. Is there anything else coming?

"What is it?" I asked, more bitchy than I intended.

His eyes narrowed and he glared at me angrily.

"Watch your tone, or I will!"

Well, if he wanted someone to idolize him, he should have married the idiot. I mean, the way she behaved yesterday, she would never contradict him.

He took a deep breath and then let me go.

"Get ready, we're going to the shooting range. Your little speech just now reminded me that I need to know how well you can defend yourself."

I turned around and ran up the stairs.

Now he really wants to test me. He'll have a great experience. Ivan has been training me in self-defense for seven years now.

Shooting, kickboxing, situation analysis, several hours every day until Ivan was satisfied with my performance. He started doing this six months after the kidnapping. I have now managed to beat him in shooting, even though he denies it. I have always been gifted at analyzing situations. I find it easy to connect things and see details that most people would not pay attention to. That is exactly what makes the memory of the kidnapping even worse.

The fact that I couldn't help my mother, that I couldn't help us.

Overwhelmed by my thoughts, I went back down the stairs after I had taken my handbag and my cell phone from my room.

Dante hadn't moved. He was busy with his cell phone, even when I was already standing in front of him. Without looking up, he opened the door and stepped aside.

Only he can be a gentleman and an asshole at the same time.

I went through the door and saw the car parked outside.

Without waiting for Mr. I'm-oh-so-busy, I ran down the small stone steps and sat in one of the back seats of the Bentley.

The driver was already behind the wheel. He looked at me briefly in his rearview mirror before turning away again. Are all Italians so rude? What happened to all the gentlemen?

It took a full five minutes until Dante finally sat down and we drove off.

Even during the journey he was only occupied with his cell phone. He didn't say a word or look at me.

That's fine with me. If he can do it, I've been able to do it for a long time.

I turned as far as I could towards the window and looked out.

The sun was shining, so I dug my sunglasses out of my bag and put them on.

After a 20-minute drive we finally arrived.

Dante stayed seated, but I couldn't stand being in the car any longer. The silence and the fact that he ignored me, for whatever reason, was really getting on my nerves.

If this is my future, then maybe I'd rather shoot myself. I had already found the right place.

A large grassy area stretched out across the landscape.

About 10 meters in front of me there was a shooting range. Mafiosos all had their own facilities and this one was outside.

He wanted proof of my abilities, and he got it.

I walked purposefully to a seat and picked up the Glock 17 that was already on the table. I checked the cartridges and my position.

I released the safety catch on the weapon and aimed at the target in the distance.

After I had used up my cartridges and another magazine, one of the employees ran to the targets and took the paper from the holder.

When he got to me, he looked me up and down and I thought I saw something like admiration on his face.

"Your targets, Signorita."

He handed me the ten pieces of paper. I just nodded and looked at them.

20 shots, two per target.

I had hit once in the head and once in the heart.

Except for the last one, when I shot both times in the crotch. It was a gift.

I took the piece of paper and went back to the car. I was gone for a full 15 minutes, but Dante hadn't followed me to the stand. No, he was standing by the car and talking on the phone.

He's acting like I dragged him here and not he me.

I walked straight up to him, with his back to me.

The sound of my footsteps on the gravel made him turn to me, still on the phone.

Without saying a word, I pressed the piece of paper against his chest. He just looked at me, confused.

I didn't even look at him and got into the car, still without saying a word.

Ten minutes later, Dante finally got in.

He held the piece of paper under my nose.

"Is that supposed to tell me something?" he asked, now more amused than angry.

"That? Oh no, don't worry. I'm not aiming at empty targets."

Wow, even I wasn't expecting such a cheeky sentence, but he deserved it.

I mean, first he drags me here and then he just hangs out on the phone.

Oh God, I already sound like an old wife.

Dante's expression changed from amused to pissed off in a matter of seconds. Can't someone handle jokes about their masculinity? Well, he should have thought about that beforehand.

"Thin ice, amore, very thin ice."

I simply ignored him and his new nickname.

After a while we stopped at the side of the road. We were definitely not home yet.

Oh crap, now I'm calling this place home.

Dante leaned over to me and blew lightly behind my ear. His warm breath gave me goosebumps that reached up to my arms.

"Get out, mia vita, we're choosing our wedding rings now."

I snorted in response and pushed open the car door.

Dante came running around the car and put his hand around my waist.

Then he led me into the shop.

The shop was small and had an old-fashioned feel.

It wasn't as modern as the ones I usually went to, but I liked the intimate atmosphere here.

We sat down in a small corner of the couch.

A small, older gentleman came out of the back room; he must have heard the shop bell.

The man greeted Dante in Italian. They hugged and then both sat down.

"You must be Anastasia, very nice to meet you, my name is Fernando. I own the shop."

I smiled at the man and took his hand.

"Very nice to meet you."

Fernando and Dante spoke briefly in Italian before Dante turned to me.

"What kind would you like, my love?"

He gave me a quick smile and I almost believed him.

"You pick one, my love, I trust you and your taste."

No!

But I didn't care. Even if he came back with the ring from a Coke can opening.

Dante looked at the rings that Fernando presented on the table in front of us.

My eyes wandered around the shop. There were much better things to see than stupid wedding rings.

My eyes caught on an old jewelry box. It was beautiful and looked like it was from the beginning of the 20th century.

Suddenly Dante took my hand. My gaze quickly wandered over to him. He put our intertwined hands on his lap and began to run his thumb over the back of my hand.

"In two days, old friend." Dante answered a question that I had missed.

What were they talking about?!

Fernando went into his office to sort something out, leaving me and the mood swings next to me alone.

When I couldn't stand the tension any longer, I broke it to finally satisfy my curiosity.

"What about in two days?" I had a bad feeling and Dante's grin only reinforced it.

"Our wedding, my darling!" he said in a tone that was both amused and stern.

He is also amused by my suffering, great, I'm marrying a sadist.

In two days it will be time. A rage rose up in me that I could hardly control.

Why am I not informed of anything?

First the engagement, now the wedding. No one thinks it necessary to tell me.

After a few attempts, I finally separated our hands and then got up from the couch.

"Where are you going?"

I didn't look at him, but turned around with my back to him and with a loud "wait outside" I left the store.

Outside, I leaned against the outside wall of a shop and watched the people in the city center shopping, meeting friends or going for a walk.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, pulling me backwards.

Before I could even react, a piece of cloth was pressed against my face.

Chloroform. Everything turned black.