POV Victoria
It's the next day, and I'm lying in bed, unwilling to get up.
The memories from last night remain with me. Particularly how Leo apologized to me with intense sincerity, and looked at me as if seeing me in pain hurt him. The mere thought of these things causes a turnover in my stomach.
I know the constant fluttering and nervousness I feel toward him isn't normal. The events of my kidnapping have left me vulnerable, and I can only assume the little flutters toward Leo are because he saved me. But as worrisome as these warm feelings are, I like them and don't want them to stop, which tells me I have lost my mind.
I drag a hand down my face and turn over on my side, pressing my face into the cold pillow.
When I rise, I notice a pile of clothes on the nightstand. There's a little paper on top, and I grab the note. My heart rate increases with an eagerness to read it, and I find myself smiling as I trace the black ink of Leo's elegant handwriting.
I thought you might want some real clothes.
PS Everything is new.
Leo
I put the note aside and lift the simple knitted long-sleeve black dress. When I do, a set of matching undergarments falls out. The sight of the undergarments reminds me of what I'm wearing under the t-shirt. Disgust settles in my stomach, and my skin crawls with an irritation.
I approach the bathroom adjoined to the bedroom. My mouth drops at the enormity of it.
To the left, I notice a walk-in closet. Inside is an array of expensive suits. Leo's scent is thick in the air.
This is his room.
There's a pang in my chest, and I can't help but feel like a burden.
I suck in an unsteady breath, exit the closet, and see my reflection in the mirror. I gasp at the sight of the dark bruises littering my face and neck. They look worse than when I last saw them.
My fingertips are gentle on the bruised skin, but I still feel a sharp pain when I touch them. Tears cloud my vision, and they don't stop falling when I see myself in the white lace. All I see is a price tag instead of undergarments. Crying uncontrollably, I take off the lingerie, rip them into shreds, and toss them into the trash.
While showering, I try to wash away the unwanted memories of my kidnapping. But no matter how hard I scrub, I can still feel my abusers' burning lips on my body and their filthy hands slithering up my thighs.
The memories are too painful, and every time I close my eyes, it's as if I'm back in that room.
There's a hatred toward my body growing inside me, and I can do nothing to make the pain disappear.
As I sit at the bottom of the shower, I bury my head in my knees, and my shoulders shake from the intense sobs coming from inside me.
I can feel Richard's fingers, and panic rises in my chest. Biting my lip hard, a penny-like taste fills my mouth. Then there's silence, and my cries turn into hard breathing.
The scorching hot water from the shower turns my brown skin red and the blood in my veins fizzles up. My hands ball into tight fists, and I'm filled with anger toward Adriano and his men for what they did to me and what they are doing to others. Then a wave of irritation washes over me as I try to understand Leo's confusing behavior. I'm not sure if he's my savior or if he's also kidnapped me. He's nice one second and a total ass the next, and despite this, I can't help but want to be near him, which makes me angry at myself.
Maybe I'm also bipolar?
***
Showering didn't get rid of the itch on my skin. There's no forgetting what they did to me. Especially not while I still have the giant bruises and busted lip.
My battered body reminds me of the violence I've been subjected to, and all because I didn't submit to Adriano and his men. They hit me because I retaliated and didn't bite my tongue when a man disrespected me. These bruises are proof of my rebellion. A marker to tell the world I didn't go down without a fight.
Unable to look at the bruises any longer, I return to the room and contemplate what to do. At this moment, I don't know what I can do. I'm not sure if I'm free to go where I want or if I'm bound to this room. Leo never told me what he wanted with me and Sofia.
After debating my next actions, I give in and decide to go outside. I can't stay in here forever.
I approach the door and hesitate to open it, afraid of who will be outside. There are men in this house who carry guns that can kill ten people in a minute.
The only thing pushing me to open the door is knowing Sofia is somewhere alone in the house.
I continue through the mansion, intending to find her.
While making my way through the hallway, the sound of men speaking makes me stop. I have the urge to run back to the room, but I force myself to keep walking, determined to find Sofia.
As I pass the group of tall men, I stiffen.
When they notice me, curiosity reveals itself in their expressions.
They don't stop to question me, which I'm thankful for because I won't know what to tell them if they ask me anything about why I'm here.
If what Luca said last night is true about the other girls rescued being sent to a hotel, then why are Sofia and I here and not there?
I dismiss these thoughts and enter the kitchen to find Sofia preparing food. Luca hovers behind her, and I notice him lick his lips, visibly excited to eat.
When they hear me come in, they turn in my direction. Sofia's face glows when she sees me.
"Morning," I say, helping Sofia with breakfast, since I have nothing better to do than think about the uncertainty surrounding our predicament. Thinking about the past few days will only upset me more than I already am, and the smells of home wafting from the stove do well to ease the grief in my chest.
When we finish cooking, men pile into the kitchen with hunger. I turn to Sofia, and we exchange a knowing look, both amused by the men salivating from the delicious aroma in the room.
"What is that?" Luca asks, swallowing, and his eyes widen with hunger.
I slide a plate in front of him, and he mumbles a "thank you" before digging into the dish without a utensil. I laugh at his excitement and hand him a fork. He gladly takes it and continues to stuff his face, moaning as he chews.
"No, seriously, what is this?" he says through a mouth full of food.
Hearing his appreciation, Sofia and I glance at one another, satisfied with our work.
"It's chilaquiles, carne ranchera, and huevo ranchero. Or at least close to what we could make with what you guys had in the fridge," I tell him in my mother tongue before placing a plate in front of the guy with blue eyes I met yesterday.
Blue eyes nods in gratitude, and he elegantly places a napkin on his lap. I lift a brow at his sophistication.
"I don't understand half the things you said, but it's good," Luca praises, taking another bite of the chilaquiles. I laugh before explaining to him in English what the food is.
"Where is this dish from? And what language do you speak?" Blue eyes asks after swallowing a bite of food and wiping the corners of his mouth.
He notices my curious stare and gives me his name. "I'm Angelo," he introduces himself with his right hand outstretched for me to shake. There's a gentle smile stretching on his full lips.
I shake his hand, and his grip is firm.
"Victoria," I say before answering his question as I serve myself a plate. "And it's a Mexican dish. Our family is from Mexico." Angelo nods, and his eyes trail to something behind me.
My forehead furrows from the gesture, and I turn, only to bump into a broad chest covered in a perfectly pressed black button-down shirt. My lungs constrict from the familiar scent. A strange mix of uneasiness and excitement washes over me. The excitement I could do without, considering he's a stranger.
I have to keep reminding myself of this, but even then, the stupid flutters won't go away.
A pair of intense forest-green eyes pin me in place. I give a nervous smile, and Leo's eyes flicker with an unknown emotion.
I don't know what takes over me, but I lift the plate in my hand, ready to give it to him, and Leo looks at the plate hesitantly.
"It's not poisoned." My voice comes out with a hint of offense, and his eyes widen in panic.
"I know it isn't." He pauses and rubs the back of his neck. "This is your plate."
When he says this, my stomach flutters and I curse myself.
"Just take it. I can serve myself another plate," I assure him, this time forcing it into his hands.
Although he has us trapped here, he's a somewhat better host than Adriano. Making them breakfast is the least Sofia and I can do, and who knows, maybe he'll let us go if we befriend them. My mom always did say the way to one's heart is through their stomach.
Leo hesitates at first, but when he sees how serious I am, he takes the plate from my hand. When he grabs it, our fingers touch, and electricity passes through us, shocking me.
My body warms, and Leo's intense gaze has me looking behind him. I'm desperate to find anything to distract myself from the warm, tingly feelings his touch brings me.
The kitchen is silent, and everyone looks at us, making me more nervous.
I lick my lips, willing the dryness away, and turn around to serve myself a plate to hide from everyone's intense gaze.
As I grab a plate, Leo places a hand on mine, stopping me.
My brows draw together in confusion when he grabs the plate from my hand, and I watch as he puts food on it before handing it back to me. This gesture makes everyone in the room drop their mouths.
I try my best to ignore them and sit beside Sofia, who's equally shocked.
What are you doing to me, Leo?
Heat rushes to my cheeks when I notice him looking at me whenever he lifts his eyes to put food into his mouth.
***
Leo
I couldn't sleep at all last night.
All I could think about was what I was going to do about my situation with Victoria. I know I have to let her go, but I'm not ready to lose her. I just found her.
Aside from my reluctance to part with her, I also couldn't stop thinking about what Adriano and his men did to her. If I had known her before they kidnapped her, I would have protected her, and she wouldn't be suffering.
Since she woke up, I noticed she's terrified of men, including me. Luckily, after apologizing to her, she's becoming more comfortable with me. If I could even call it that.
"Why didn't you answer?" Francisco says, appearing in front of me, face scrunched in annoyance.
I lift a questioning brow.
"I was knocking for five minutes!" he says, crossing his arms over his chest.
"What do you need, Francisco?" He rolls his eyes at my exasperated tone.
"The girls we saved are asking our men when they can go home. They think we're planning on selling them," Francisco explains, and his expression tells me to get my shit together, and I know he's right.
He follows close behind me as we approach my office. On the way there, I stop near Victoria's door, and Francisco gives me a knowing look. He swallows his snarky comment when he sees my silent warning.
"Didn't I tell you to send them home already?" I exclaim, my pointer finger under my jaw. "I must have forgotten."
"I wonder why," Francisco grumbles low enough for me to hear.
"Shut up and follow me. I need to make a few calls," I say, irritated by his cockiness.
Once in my office, I call the hotel where the girls we rescued are staying, so I can let them know I want the girls to be gathered for a quick announcement.
After hanging up, I motion for Francisco to follow me.
"Let's go. I want to make this fast," I say, walking out of my office, only for him to stop me by placing a hand on my left shoulder.
I turn and narrow my eyes at him, noticing his amusement as he tries to hand me a comb.
"Unless you want bedhead, then don't take it. But a word of advice from your trusty underboss..." Francisco's face is aligned with humor, and my annoyance rises "...you need the groom."
He makes his way toward the door, but before he opens it, he turns around. A glint in his eyes.
"Oh, and here." He tosses me a packet of gum. "In case you run into Victoria." He winks with the corners of his lips lifted.
My eyes harden, and he laughs at my newfound restlessness.
"Idiota," I mutter grudgingly, and when he's not looking, I comb through my hair and chew on the gum.
***
The moment we walk into the kitchen, Francisco's nostrils flare, taking in the aroma of freshly cooked food. His mouth salivates from the new smells, and I do the same.
My gaze lands on the girl who has stirred unfamiliar emotions in me. Warmth spreads across my body as I near her.
Victoria turns around, crashing into my chest, and she lets out a barely audible gasp. I wrap an around her waist, keeping her steady. Our eyes lock, and her cheeks flush a dark color.
She offers me her plate of food, and I push it toward her, but she takes offense to this.
Her serving me didn't sit well with me. This isn't how we did things in Italy, at least not how I want to do things. I don't want her lifting a finger.
Victoria's lips press together, and her perfect eyebrows scrunch.
She forces the plate into my hands, and her stubbornness in taking no for an answer is a pleasant surprise.
When she gives me no other choice, I take the plate, and our fingers graze. There's a zap of electricity. The sound of her surprise lifts the corner of my lips. Her eyes avoid mine, and she bites the inside of her mouth. My heart races from how she responds to my touch.
Victoria grabs another plate, and I take it from her hands. When I hand her back the plate filled with food, she stares at me, taken aback.
Through our exchange, I don't miss the nosey stares which belong to Sofia, Francisco, Kaden, Luca, and Angelo. Who have their mouths wide open at the sight of me serving a plate.
I shrug off their look of surprise and sit across from Victoria, who's quiet. Her hair covers her face from sight.
After breakfast, I instruct Luca to give Victoria and Sofia a house tour. This way, they don't get lost.
Before heading out, I pull Victoria aside.
"I'll be back. I have something to take care of. You have my word that you and your cousin are safe. When I get back, I will explain everything to you." I place a fallen strand of hair behind her ear, and she shudders when the pad of my thumb touches the edge of her ear.
I don't get to tell her anything else because Sofia pulls her toward Luca. I watch her disappear with a sigh before heading out to the Black Mercedes waiting for me.
Before I know it, we make it to one of the many hotels I own in France.
I fix my black suit jacket, grumbling in annoyance, wanting to be somewhere else, or rather, with someone else.
Francisco and a few of my men follow me into the hotel, taking their positions behind me.
The second my men and I enter the multi-purpose room, the girls share a look of fear. I can feel the tension in the air. It's thick with uncertainty as I make my way across the stage.
"I hear many of you are asking when you can leave. Which will happen as soon as I finish here," I assure them, and they relax from the news of going home. "But before you can leave, we need to go over some rules."
The girls panic, and the noise level rises. I'm quick to reassure them.
"You guys are not allowed to speak of this place or me to the officials or your family. If you do, I will find out, and you don't want to know what I'll do to you." There's a warning in my voice.
A woman with auburn hair raises her hand, and I let her speak.
"Does this mean we have to lie about where we've been all this time?" she asks, and many others nod, having the same question.
"You can tell them you were kidnapped. But when they ask how you escaped, tell them whatever you want. As long as you don't mention my men or me." The girl nods in understanding.
"Anything else?" I ask, and another girl raises her hand.
"It's not a question. I just want to say thank you for all you guys have done for us." As she says this, her eyes gloss over with tears.
I nod and walk off the stage to speak to the woman I put in charge of the girls.
"Have some of your staff help you categorize each girl by their location." I hand her a big envelope with one-way tickets to any location and some extra cash for transportation. "Also, please make sure they all sign one of these forms before leaving." I hand her another envelope with non-disclosure agreements. "Give them to Kaden when you have them all signed." She nods again before hurrying away to do what I've asked.
I head out of the building and back to the car.
"Now what?" Francisco says, and I keep my face straight as I look forward.
"How do you feel about staying in France for a few days?"
He shakes his head.
"This is because of her, isn't it?" I don't answer because he's right. Victoria is the exact reason I'm not on a plane heading back to Italy.
Taking my silence as an answer, Francisco sighs.
"You know she has a home where her family is probably freaking out looking for her, for both of them," he says, his expression dulling.
"I know. I want a little more time with her, that's all," I say, and Francisco looks stunned by my defeated tone. "She'll go home soon."
Unfortunately.
We make our way back to my estate in silence, and when I step into the living room, I see Victoria and Sofia laughing at a sleeping Luca.
The two have gotten comfortable and are no longer afraid of us. Luca's tour and charm have made them feel welcomed.
Their soft laughter fills the living room as they draw on Luca's face with a Sharpie marker. Which I may or may not have given them.
In my defense, declining Victoria's requests is hard—even impossible.
Luca snores, moving his head to the side, giving them better access to draw on his left cheek.
I laugh, noticing they drew a mustache, unibrow, and a dick smack dab on his forehead.
From the sound of my chuckle, Victoria looks at me with her infatuating smile. My breathing stills, and my cold heart warms from the sight.
If beauty is a person, she is it.
Francisco, Angelo, and Kaden walk into the room. They all burst out in obnoxious laughter when they see Luca on the couch, sleeping with his face tattooed by a Sharpie.
Kaden's lips, which never tip up, curve into a slight grin, and I'm surprised to see these two girls have made grouchy Kaden smile in a short amount of time.
Luca shuffles from his sleep and groans, scratching the top of his head.
"Can you all shut up? Some people are trying to sleep!" he grits in annoyance, unaware of the disaster on his face.
His sleep-filled eyes land on the two girls hovering near him, each holding a Sharpie marker.
Victoria and Sofia look at one another in a panic and chuck the markers into my hands. The smell of Sharpie is quick to drift to my nose.
"He did it!" they shout in unison, and the guys laugh again.
Luca's eyes widen, and he jumps from the couch, running to the mirror hanging on the wall on the other side of the room.
He gasps when he looks at his reflection and slowly turns to face the culprits.
"You two better run for the hills!" Luca says, prompting Sofia and Victoria to turn to each other in worry.
"You're both dead," he grits, trying to suppress his smile.
The next second, the two girls run out of the room.
"Catch us if you can!" they taunt, their heads peeking from behind the door. Luca groans in annoyance and runs after them.
I watch them go, certain that having them around will be a breath of fresh air for us all.