↬ a d r i a n n e ↫
Since that moment, I barely got out of the room. I felt embarrassed about how easily he got to me and how he knows he did.
Though I plan to take it as a challenge, it's more to prove to myself that I can be in control of the attraction I have towards him than to tie him up and lead him on.
Both options, I can prove. Simultaneously.
With the same clothes that I have worn for the last two days, I feel disgusting, I reek of everything but my expensive perfumes and body lotions.
I need my shit.
"Get up, I will take you to your apartment to get your stuff, " he barges in as if he were reading my mind.
I smile at his face. He is serious, yet I feel the playfulness emitting.
"I thought you were coming here to fuck me, " I fake pout, getting on my feet.
"You're the last person I'm thinking of fucking," he says with that thick Italian accent that drives me insane.
I roll my eyes and begin striding in direction of the door.
During the ride, all I kept thinking was a way of running away. Any opportunity I get I'll take. As much as I would love to taste that man, I got my shit to deal with and I'm scared to death about what can go wrong in this game I think I'm good at.
I'm messing with the mafia.
Although those are my thoughts, I can't keep my hands to myself. It's like every time I hear him speak or peek at him, something inside of me twitches a bit. Not in an unpleasant manner, it's the opposite. I like how it feels.
It's dangerous, secret, challenging. All the things I'm good at managing, all traits I look forward to in a man.
I shake my head, coming out of my daze.
I see my neighborhood, but I'm not even going to bother asking how they know my location.
"You're allowed to take merely underwear, your paperwork, and a couple of clothes, " he, with a gruff voice, indicates me. "I'll have my colleagues watching you, so don't try stupid shit."
I scoff and roll my eyes.
Once we're inside my beloved apartment, his men just begin going through my stuff. They don't wait after properly feel comfortable in my home, they just barged in picking and choosing what they want.
Do I look like an investigation? Does this place look like a crime scene? Because the last time I checked... Well...
Yeah, my clothes are still scattered all over my living room area and following a path to my bedroom door. A crime definitely happened here.
And what an outstanding crime!
Memories of that night begin to fog my vision, and I have to shake them off to not lose myself against these men.
"Excuse me, che cazzo pensi di fare?" I ask, bringing my hands to my hips. {what the fuck do you think you're doing}
Marcello's tall body breathes indifferently against the back of my head, "Rummaging, " it entices me.
Rummaging. Such a strange word, yet so sexy when it comes out of his mouth.
"Go get your stuff and don't ask questions. Otherwise avremo problemi. Non vuoi avere problemi con me, tesoro," he adds, but this time, this time he says it looking at me and walking past me with a dead expression on. {we will have problems. You don't want to have problems with me}
I don't say a word, hence I silently proceed to go to my bedroom, grab the biggest bag I own, and begin to throw all he said I could into it. When I get to my bathroom to get a perfume bottle, I remember what I hold in possession.
I take a look back to the huge men dressed in black that are stalking over me.
Cautiously, I smile at them and begin to creak the bathroom door close. Once it is closed, I open a cabinet where I put my hair treatments. Aw my babies.
If he only knew how expensive it is to treat my hair.
"La porterò da te. Lei sarà tua prima che tu te ne accorga," i hear Marcello's voice from the other side of the wall. I freeze, I instantly get alarmed. My hands behind to shake and palms begin to sweat. {i will bring her to you. she will be yours before you know it}
Fuck, I need to stay focused for this to work.
I tap the inner wall of one side of it. The wooden rectangle is detached from the rest of the carpentry. To prevent it from falling, I hold it with my hands and quickly pull out a hidden pocket knife from the inside.
I breathe out heavily due to the relief.
As a woman of color and the daughter of a politician, I need to have some sort of defense mechanism I can rely on in dangerous situations. I pocket knife is the smallest yet most useful thing I could manage.
My heart rate decreases once I have it secured in my hands. But it skyrockets again when I hear the doors knocking.
"Hey, che diavolo ci fai lì? Vattene fuori!" one of them yell from the outside, making my scare jump. {what in the hell are you doing there? Get the fuck out}
I put everything back in place and with a voice as normal as I can I say, "Can't you let a girl? I'm on my period, all right? But if you want a sneak peek of the bloody pad, be my fucking guest!" annoyingly.
I wait in silence for five more seconds for them to back from the door. I swallow that fat nod that's formed inside my throat.
I despite feeling this way. Helplessly defenseless. Not in control. I can't endure it, I don't like panic, I hate being out of breath.
I look down at the knife. I stare at it, deeply while formulating a plan in which I'll guide myself in order to set me free.
"Don't shake, don't tremble, don't fall, " I tell myself, putting the knife inside my bag.
Taking breath in and breath out, I open the wooden door, only to find no one other than Marcello standing right in front of it.
I whatever is going to happen next, better happen well and fast.
Again, my hands are sweaty and my breathing accelerated.
"What were you doing in there?" he interrogates, with nothingness etched all over his features, his green eyes, his dark hair, his beard. Everything is nothing.
I think I'm about to be nothing too in a couple of seconds. Minutes if I'm lucky enough.
"Didn't your poppy dogs tell you? I'm bleeding out of my vagina!" I make eye contact with him. His eyes pierce right through mine, and I feel naked, I feel... Empowerment.
It's strange because I'm over boarding in fear and anxiety. Regardless, to be able to stand up in front of him, with a knife, holds a certain power that wears on and off but it's there.
"I don't tend to ask things twice, so you're really lucky. What were you doing in there? Do not push beyond my limits, " he grumbles.
Behind him is my bed, where I had sex with that police officer. I pay almost no minds to his warning and stroll to reach it, but his large hands take hold of my arm, gripping it tightly.
"I said: do not push beyond my limits," He hisses.
Fuck, that dead stare.
"Where are your friends?" I ask, anything to avoid doing what I plan to do.
I'm not ready.
"You really are hard-headed, " he lets me go, sighing. "Give me that bag!" he raises his voice.
All my levels skyrocket. I should've seen this coming.
"You're holding me against my will, your yelling at me, you're stealing things from my house. And now you want my bag, too? Get the fuck out of my face!" I jerk my arms off his grip.
He clicks his tongue several times and scowls. His hand goes us to his head and through his hair, pulling it back even though it's already perfect. "You're not an easy one, huh?"
"screw you!"
"Oh, I will!" he smiles as his fingers reach to his back.
A gun comes out. A gun. And it's now pointed towards me. My head. I squeak in fear.
As if it were a natural response, I swiftly dig my arms in the bag and clasp the end of the knife.
I pull it out.
All right. The plan went totally as I planned. Totally. No flaws no nothing.
I force back the tears.
"I said to not do anything stupid, neonata!" he shrugs.
Then I hear that sound. That dreadful sound.
I shake, I tremble, I fall.
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a u t h o r ' s n o t e
okay, OKAY plz don't kill me. ik i've been absent, but i have so much going on rn that i could rant about it for hours and y'all still wouldn't believe it. but i'm really truly sorry about disappointing the people that enjoy this book and that have been supporting me and my work from the beginning. :(
never forget that ily, babes!
<3
vote and comment, bitcheeesss