Saviour

Chapter 6

I'd fallen flat on my ass within seconds. Dazed, I sat on the floor for a while in shock until I was snapped into action by a flurry of movement inside the house. Lights switching on and muffled yells from inside, the whole place seemed to wake up, and believe me there was a lot of it to wake. A painted mansion with sprawling arches, towering trees and a ridiculously pretentious fountain, it looked like a dream come true. Or maybe a nightmare, given that I had to run barefoot across at least an acre of land just to get off the estate.

I was immediately on my feet, stumbling and slipping while they were cut and scraped by the rocks and thorn bushes I had to run through. Fucking hell, I swore internally, I thought this was a garden not a torture chamber.

The sound of doors opening made my head turn, a fatal mistake because within seconds I had run smack bang into a wall in front of me. Only (because God apparently still hates me) it wasn't a wall, but an incredibly attractive and slightly irritated man.

"Were you really that desperate to see me Bellezza? I was only on a walk" Castello drawled, "I'll admit you look gorgeous with your cheeks flushed by the night air, but there are better ways to get my attention than climbing out of windows". I scowled at him, making an attempt to run past but no sooner had I shoved him than his hands were around my waist and a self-satisfied smile was on his face. I suppressed a shudder at the feel of his strong hands on me and began a torrent of kicking and yelling, to try and break free. "Bella, you're only making this harder for yourself, look at you, your feet are all cut and bruised. Let's go home, we'll get you cleaned up"

"Home?!" I yelled, my mouth agape, "this isn't my home! I don't know you, I don't want to be here, I told you I don't, now let me fucking go"

"Do you not understand the danger you're in here Kara? If you leave, they will kill you, I'm the only one protecting you"

"Protecting me? Really? I've read about you Castello, I've heard what you've done and you expect me to trust you? I would rather be killed then spend another second trapped here with you"

"Belleza-" he began, but was cut off by the arrival of several suited men who had come from the house. "Boss, va tutto bene?" one of them asked, a tall asian man with short hair and an eyebrow slit. At this, Castello's entire demeanour changed with his posture straightening and a mask of harsh coldness covering his face. He was like a completely different person, not even a shadow of joking remained in his expression as he looked at me and then his subordinates, "We're fine. Go back inside, I'll deal with her" he replied curtly. I shivered at his words; I'll deal with her. He seemed to notice, turning back to face me again and spoke harshly "Kara, I will not ask you again, go back into the house."

"Screw. You."

I was upside-down before I had a second to reapply my scowl, he'd picked me up as if I were as light as a feather and had started an angry march towards the house with him swinging over his shoulder. No past boyfriends had been able to pick me up so easily before (in fact, one ex had even stared at me in shock after his failed attempt, repeating "God, you're heavy") so I was shocked into a sort of intoxicated awe until I remembered I was angry, that is. Much kicking and screaming ensued which obviously had no effect and I even threw out the "pervert" label when I realised his hand was on my ass, although I was secretly grateful to him for keeping my dress down.

A few minutes later I was dumped on a countertop in a room I assumed was the kitchen. "Stay" he ordered sharply and (god knows what happened to my feminism) I obeyed, watching him curiously as he dug through the cupboards.

He seemed to have no idea where anything was, must be because his servants do the cooking, I thought sarcastically. The room was just as stately as the rest of the mansion, with marble countertops and tiled floors, the walls were lined with dozens of knives, pots, pans and spices that seemed a better fit for a posh restaurant instead of a Mafia boss. He was bent down in front of me now, digging through the cupboard opposite underneath the sink and I couldn't help watching his muscles shifting across his broad shoulders and back, taking me a second to realise what he was wearing. He was dressed in jogging bottoms and a tight black t-shirt which seemed so different from the expensive, formal suit he'd had on earlier.

"See anything you like?", he asked after catching me mid-stare. His smile was back now, looking more relaxed now we were alone again and it was a conscious effort for me to keep my rbf (resting bitch face) on. He held a small box in his hands and opened it up on the floor, still crouching.

To my surprise he moved onto his knees before me and reached for my legs hanging off the counter, asking softly "Can I touch you?"

All that came from my mouth was a strangled sort of grunt while I tried not to literally choke on the air in shock. He watched me quietly, no doubt waiting for me to start yelling, as he took one of my feet in his hands and began to clean them with a wipe he'd taken from the box beside him. At his touch, my whole body heated. His fingers were rough and calloused but slid over my skin gently, sending a shiver up my spine as he wiped the mud from my feet and calves, carefully cleaning the scratches I'd obtained from my escape through the garden.

The insanity of the situation hit me as he placed plasters over the worst of the cuts and moved on to my other foot. The leader of the Diavolo Mafia was on his knees in front of me.... Cleaning my feet. At this point I was tempted to look around for cameras, expecting an overzealous gameshow host to pop out any second and tell me it was all a joke. Through the testimonies of others I had heard stories of Castello killing men just for touching him or breaking women's arms for not settling their bills in his nightclubs. How could he, with his gentle healing hands, be that very same man?

When we was done he caught my eye, "What? Do you like me on my knees for you?" he laughed. Yes. "No. Shut up Castello" I glowered and then, lowering my voice, "I don't understand you at all. It's like you're too different people and I can't work out which is the real you. I mean, you kidnapped me but now you're cleaning my feet. What the hell are you playing at?"

"Maybe I just didn't want you bleeding all over the carpet bellezza. Come on, you need sleep" . Quickly he rose to his feet and swept me off the counter, hooking one arm underneath my legs and one behind my back. I gasped, "Woah bossman, you know I can walk right?"

"You're hurt. Plus I don't trust you not to run away again little loose end"

"My feet don't even hurt, it's fine. We all get that you're strong, you show-off, I'm just worried you're going to get into the habit of carrying me everywhere like I'm some sort of china doll"

"Careful, it sounds like you might actually be planning to stick around here with me"

"Please" I replied sarcastically, "as soon as morning breaks, I'm out of here"

"Sure bellezza."

Once we'd reached 'my room' again, he placed me down carefully, unlocking the door and stepping inside with me. He held my gaze for a second and then ran a hand through his hair, sighing "Look, I know this isn't an ideal situation but I'm not letting you go Kara. You could be happy here if you let yourself"

"I could also be happy in my home with non-murderers and without criminals. What do you expect me to say Castello? I'm not going to stay locked in a room in some random country my whole life just so you can keep me as some sort of guiniepig experiment"

"Don't run away and maybe we'll leave the door unlocked"

"Oh hurray, the bare minimum" I droned.

He laughed and shook his head, making his way out of the room, "Goodnight Kara".