Italian Coffee House [BWWM]

- C h a p t e r 41 -

"I can't," I finally replied, edging in her general direction. The closer I got, the more my performance chipped away at her brazen exterior.

"Ada, pleased don't do anything you'll regret." Ortensia pleaded, her chest visibly undulating with each waning step.

"Where did you hear that name?" I fumed, physically shook that she seemed to have some idea about who I was, despite evidence that I knew nothing about her.

"Your husband, of course." Ortensia stated as though it wasn't nearly as outlandish as it sounded. Why would Niccolò know her?

Ortensia was a sophisticated woman. Besides being unearthingly gorgeous, she seemed to have a depth to her that wasn't easy to superceded. She was well-endowed, her choice in clothing falling elegantly against her figure. Sure I had a few curved here and there, but they were eclipsed by my not-so-subtle baby bump. Ortensia was free of fat, though she retained a nice thick physique. It would be impossible not to fall for her charms, even with the scar that somehow added more depth and mystery to her personality.

Less than pleased at the direction my thoughts were headed, I tried to suppress the bitter sting of tears in my eyes. God could I really be that stupid?

"This way," I gritted out, angling my head in the direction of the bed I'd been in only moments ago.

"Please I know you're expecting." She announced. "I am a mother as well."

"Get in the bed," I said, my anger noticeably spiking. She obeyed making her way towards the bed, climbing into it. "Don't follow me!"

I quickly made my way down the low-set staircase and out the door, closing it behind me. What on earth was I doing? Truth be told, I didn't have one inkling about where to go. I had no signal as to where I could be and therefore, it was near impossible to plot my escape. So I would have to go with my gut.

Turning left, I ducked out into the hallway, my bare feet padding against the hex terra-cotta flooring. The surface was so different to the barren cage I'd been in, how many hours, prior. Cantera stone again lined the seamingly endless and curving hall, matched with a high cove-vault ceiling. Oddly, the place gave off a regal finish.

The sound of shuffling caught my ear, prompting me to glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, there was a menacing looking man hot on my heel. Just what I needed. Lord God almighty, why was this happening to me? My feet hurt a lot and my body was still recovering from exhaustion, but I pushed on. I couldn't give up now.

A lavish sitting room came into view, along with an assortment of men clad in black. Where on earth was I?

Just then my eyes caught his. The pale blue that somehow seemed to see all the way through me to my soul. Right there among them. Besides God, the source of my comfort and the one from whom I drew my strength. His eyes were tired, dark circles lay under his them. A days worth of stubble on his square jawline. He wore a common clothes and a pair of sneakers. His black head of hair seemed a little longer for some reason. At the moment, my heart pulsed. I was so happy to see him.

Suddenly, a hand caught hold of my wrist. The one without the weapon, and reflexively, I swung. The man hissed, cursing under his breath, as the gravity of my actions hit. His cold eyes pinned me and I was certain he would retaliate. However, he looked over my head his mouth forming into a fine line. He backed away slowly clutching his lower arm, from which I drew blood. I watched him carefully making sure that he was a good enough distance before I turned around.

"Ada." He was a few feet from me now, holding his arms up in surrender, as if I would hurt him. He moved slowly toward me, with careful precision not to make the wrong move, until he was with reach. Sluggishly, his arms reach out to mine, removing the shard of glass from the grasp of my hand. Unknowingly, I'd clutched so tight the blood marred the base of my palm and the back of my knuckles.