Chapter Two
Lily.
My next thought is to find a weapon.
I don’t feel a gun on either side of my pocket. I can’t do anything because my hands and legs are bound.
Eyes closed, I let my brain do the work. Waiting for him to do something. Anything!
I’m completely helpless at this point. The best I can do is try to reason with this man.
My eyes flip open and I see him. I see him staring down at me with those cold gray eyes. No emotion at all in its depth. It’s the color of the clouds right before a storm. Those eyes tell me I’m a prey. They rake all over my skin before they settle on my upper arm where a dark bruise has formed.
His forehead wrinkles and I inhale sharply. The rest of his face is sculpted to perfection.
It's a crime to be this beautiful as a man. It’s a crime because I know his soul is the opposite of beauty. This man before me is Andrea Calvesi, the one contender to my father’s power. The thirty-two-year-old Italian Don, born to conquer my Family.
He hums and takes a long drag from his black cigarette again. The scent is rich. The expensive kind.
What does a man like him want with me? Why would anyone at the manor let this happen? I’ve been captured by the enemy and I still have no idea what he wants to do with me.
I make a sound but the stupid thing in my mouth makes it come off as a moan.
Andrea arches a perfectly shaped thick brow, then a slim finger lifts to scratch his dark stubble like he’s thinking hard about what to do to me too. I watch the rise and fall of his wide smooth chest, one which is covered in the tattoo of rattlesnakes. The art covers the left side of his upper body, disappearing down his waist—and oh, there’s the stupid white towel, that makes embarrassment wash all over me. My eyes betray me and drift to his tight torso, his powerful legs, and his hair which is disorderly and wet on his head. I swallow and look away.
I’ve had the chance to see him around the estate from my window but never up close. Andrea was an enemy and a friend to the Rostovas. My father has adopted the habit of keeping his enemies close to avoid war. Rostova claims that when he was younger he easily raided the Calvesi home with his men more times than he could count. He’d hated Andrea’s father with every drop in his blood. Calvesi was a threat to his business growth in the past. My father’s pride was bruised because he’d come into the business before Antonio Calvesi. The Italian Family suddenly attained one of the biggest warehouses in the states and made a total revenue of 50 million dollars a year from the Illegal gun trade my father was known best for in the world. Their revenue was more than half of what Rostova made at that time. Rostova had been wild and reckless but alas he surrendered the gun business to the Calvesi and went on to build an empire in something else—Cocaine. That was when the frenemy friendship formed between the two families. It’s been safe so far. Well until Andrea took over from his father.
I take one long look at the brute and his nostrils flare.
He’s fucking enjoying this. If this is some game to him then I’d better give him a piece of my mind.
I try to push myself to a sitting position but it proves difficult.
Andrea makes no move to help me. He watches with amusement like I’m some theater performance that’s here to spice up his day.
It takes some painful minutes before he eventually expels a sigh and reaches out to offer help.
I shrink back, glaring at him.
His brows shoot up and his lips curl. “Relax, Lily. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice. I hate it: it makes me weak to the bones. I hate my body for obeying. I hate my muscles for turning to mush when he gives me a reassuring nod.
I shouldn’t be deceived. I’ve been taken away from home for some reason and there are chains on my hands and feet. I still need to find a way to knock him down and bolt out that door But first…
His strong hands meet both sides of my arms then he moves closer.
Shit.
His scent fills my lungs. It’s a rich mix of something so male and invigorating. My stomach does a little flip and flop.
His eyes are even more gray from this angle. He is a beautiful man, no doubts about that now but I don’t need to read the papers or watch the news to figure that there is so much darkness around him.
Together, we bring me to a sitting position. Now, the devil’s only about three inches away from me.
He sits in his chair, his arms folded on his chest.
The room goes very quiet. I can’t hear the honk of cars or the occasional bustle of New York City.
“Where am I?” I ask but it comes out more as mmm mmm hmmm.
Andrea’s smooth, thin lips form a small smile. I note a dimple on his left cheek. All my years studying him from my window, I never knew that was there.
He lifts a hand and I tense, readying myself for whatever is about to come.
He frowns and grunts. “Relax, Lily.” He repeats.
Before I can blink twice, the cloth around my mouth is removed in one swift move. I watch him move to a drawer then he takes out a set of keys, then prowls back to me, inspects me with his gray eyes for some seconds before he kneels to unbuckle the chains on my hands and my feet.
A jolt of heat spreads through me when his large palms grab my hand. I’m utterly ashamed that my body registers how attractive he is at the moment. My heart starts to beat faster, and I can’t decide if it's from fear or something else.
When his face lifts to inspect mine, he gives me a bemused smile, his gaze slowly sliding to my lips.
I frown.
His smile widens.
Then he sets back to work. It’s like his hands are all over me, making me lose my senses and struggling on the mission at hand which is to figure out a way to overpower him and make my escape.
He’s taking precious time with the chains but I note how careful he is not to hurt me.
5. 4. 3. 2. 1.
The chains drop to the ground.
Perfect.
I slap his hands away and push him to the ground, heading straight for the door.
“Lily!” He barks.
Fuck you. I’m getting the hell away from you.
I manage to make it to the large hallway.
Shit. I don’t see any stairs or at least a staff. I don’t know which way to go.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” I’m running in any direction that my gut leads me, the carpet below my feet muffling the sounds my feet make on the ground.
Luckily, a door appears ahead and I almost break down in tears. I just want to go back home. To my room. To my boring old life being the boring daughter of a drug lord who only knew how to give financial advice and improve her father’s business.
My fingers mold around the cold knob.
5. 4. 3. 2. 1.
I pull it open and fall right into the hands of a bulky man. He’s even more of a giant than Andrea. He is big and muscular, bald and scarier.
I start to cry.
“Please just let me go. My father will do anything. Anything. Please. I don’t know how this happened but please I’m not the person you want.” I hate myself for sounding like a coward but at this point, I’m awake to the situation that I am in grave danger and no one in this building is my ally.
The man looks down at me, his expression blank, then he looks up. “I’m sorry, boss.” She came at me from nowhere. The man’s accent is purely American.
I can smell the boss from miles away. I don’t need to turn to see him walking toward us, his hands clenched in anger.
“It’s fine, Ed. I’ll take care of her.”
Take care of me? Doesn’t he mean to torture me and hurt me and kill me just to get to my father?
Like a newborn baby, I’m moved from one powerful hand into another, my face colliding with Andrea’s brick chest.