Page 23 of Unwanted Marriage with the Mafia Boss

I try to take slow, deep breaths so I don’t get dizzy again. Freaking out right now isn’t going to help me get free.

I close my eyes for a moment because Filippo’s face appears in my mind. He sneers at me and laughs.

“I win,” his voice whispers.

But I can’t think about him and how I’m again someone’s prisoner. I don’t want to remember how he placed a chair under the door handle to keep me from getting out. How he screamed at me tocalm the fuck downand banged on the door while telling me he loved me.

I groan, focusing on the cuff on my wrist. It’s impossible to get it off without a key, and it’s too tight to find a way to slip it off. In movies, people would just dislocate their wrists or cut off a finger or something, but I don’t think I can do any of that.

I don’t even know where I am. There’s a window, but it’s hidden by heavy drapes. This room could be anywhere, even at the top of a building. Armed men are probably right outside the door. But I can’t give up.

Adriano wants to take my home and the restaurant. It’s all he cares about. Will he really free me once he gets what he wants? Once my dad finds out about this, he’ll do anything he can to set me free.

But then what? Adriano will take everything we own, but what will he really do with us? Kill us, I guess. He’s clearly a heartless mafia boss who doesn’t give a damn about anything and anyone other than himself.

I grab the pillow from the other side of the bed in frustration. My gaze falls on something dark that has been hiding under it, and I reach out for it. A knife! I stare at it with wide eyes.

Could I somehow use it to cut through my cuff? But I hear footsteps somewhere outside. Someone’s coming, and I don’t have enough time. I place the pillow over my face and press the knife tightly to myself so that no one can see it.

If I’m lucky enough Adriano will come through that door. When he approaches to remove the pillow, I’ll stab him and hopefully... I honestly don’t know what I’m hoping for, but I hear the door open and I hold my breath. If he thinks I’m dead, I have a chance.

“Chiara!” His shout cuts through the air, and for a second, I think I hear worry.

But I must be imagining it or he’s just worried I’m actually dead and my dad won’t sign anything without me alive.

I feel the bed shift and his legs brushing mine as he gets on top of me. As he grabs the pillow and tosses it aside, I stare into his turbulent eyes. I strike straight at his head. His hand shoots out and grips my wrist so hard that I wince. The knife nicks him on the cheek, leaving a tiny trail of blood.

I fight against his hold, but if I don’t let go, he’s going to crush my wrist. He’s way too strong, and pain shoots through my arm. Adriano takes the knife out of my fingers with his other hand and lifts it.

He’s going to stab me, isn’t he? I stop breathing, my whole body shivering. He throws the knife across the room. It embeds into the closet as if he aimed right at it.

He pins my hand next to my head, his face serious, his eyes flashing with danger, but there’s also something else... As if he’s conflicted about something, but I don’t know what it is.

I can’t get my gaze off his face. He’s the same guy who made me feel so happy, and now... It’s like Filippo over again. It was all fake.

All fake. All fake.

“I should punish you for this, but you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” He tilts his head at me.

His body is still pressed against mine, and my mind wants to take me to that time when we kissed. When his touch made me cry in pleasure.

A tingling starts low in my stomach, but I can’t. I can’t do this right now. He’s not the man who I thought he was. He’s evil. My eyes fill with tears.

Adriano lets go of me and gets to his feet. “It’s my fault for leaving that, not yours anyway. I’ll forgive you this time.”

“I... um, I need to go to the bathroom,” I say, my voice shaky.

If I keep lying here, tied up like this, after what’s just happened, I’m going to lose it and burst into tears. And I don’t want Adriano to have the pleasure of seeing me fall apart. This was probably my best and only attempt at freedom that I was going to get, and I failed. My body still reacting to him... It’s too much.

“Want to try to kill me again so soon?” The corners of his mouth lift up.

“No... I... I really need to go.” It’s not even a lie.

Now that I think of it, I really feel like I have to pee.

“Okay, but no stupid moves, or I’ll just throw you in the basement and my men will watch over you. And I assure you, you don’t want that. Actually, killing me is a terrible idea because I’m the only one keeping you safe. Others, who are just outside, wouldn’t be this good to you, and I’m only this nice to you because you and I had a really great time at Amore Bruciante.”

I hate him. I hate him for reminding me of that again. He’s notnice.There’s nothing nice about him. He’s messed up in the head if he thinks he’s being nice, but I bite my tongue. I don’t want to antagonize him now, no matter how much I’d like to. Filippo taught me arguing with crazy is always a bad idea.

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