Page 45 of Twisted Obsession

When we’d braked suddenly in a very busy area of London, my interest had been piqued and I’d taken more notice of what was outside. Streams of tourists had walked either side of the stationary car. They’d looked at the car with interest that only lasted a few seconds at the most and I supposed in the middle of London expensive, black cars with blacked out windows were a normal sight.

High up on the nearest post I read “Soho.”

At least that gave me a clue as to where we were. Or at least it would have done if only I knew exactly were Soho was.

After Dante and Marco had checked we weren’t being followed, and finding the security footage of the area satisfactory, the car was once again moving, travelling at a speed I was aware was far too fast for the tourist area we were in. The car turned left and left again, before turning sharply to the right and subsequently throwing me against the hardness of Dante’s body. Instantly, his hold on me changed and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and held me close. I had been far too busy concentrating on the view from the windscreen to make any attempt to struggle free. Directly in front of the car was a single, very dirty looking, roll up garage door. Without slowing the car at all the garage door opened quickly and we were travelling down a steep tunnel, with my heart pounding in terror and only the headlights to assist our vision. Finally, the car had levelled at the bottom, and the space in front of us had become lighter and opened to reveal a small parking area.

Marco had parked the car and hearing the clang of metal I’d witnessed what could only be described as a modern-dayportcullis as it dropped into place at the bottom of the tunnel that led up to the street.

Wherever I was, it was evident I wasn’t going to be found with ease, not even by my brother. But when no feeling of apprehension found me, I couldn’t work out why.

Dante had come quickly around to my door to assist me; I’d refused the offer of his hand. Instead, I’d struggled out of the vehicle in the tight-fitting dress I was wearing and when Dante had banged his fist hard on to the roof of the vehicle, I’d witnessed his anger at my stubbornness. When he’d then kicked out at a heavy-duty storage box, it had been hard suppressing a grin at the fact I could now see a visible dent in the toe of the expensive looking Chelsea boots he always wore with his suits. As my head slowly worked out how much he must have hurt himself discharging the anger I’d created, I’d had to press my lips together to curb my amusement.

I wasn’t sure I truly knew myself. I’d gone from anger, to needing to feel him touch me and then to near hysterics at the thought I could stir him.

He’d taken hold of me again, by wrapping one arm around my waist, and pulling me in tight to his side. When I’d dug my heels in, refusing to walk, he’d lifted me up enough that it didn’t matter and had virtually carried me through the only visible door and straight into an awaiting lift. After the lift doors closed, even if I’d wanted to I couldn’t have escaped him, but his hold on me remained. The lift ascended several floors at a high speed. When the doors opened, my eyes found a wide hallway with several doors, and a flight of stairs. Dante had directed me to the end of the corridor to what appeared to be an open plan living area.

The room was bright, but looking around I couldn’t see any windows, just vast vents on the perimeter of the ceiling. Whichappeared to capture light from what I assumed had to be the roof in some clever way.

Very secure.

Trying not to look too interested, I cast my eyes around the large space. Modern looking in various shades of grey, I found a decent sized kitchen area with nothing breaking the expanse of the worktops apart from one single tap. A table that would seat eight and a huge, three-sided couch that looked so comfortable I wasn’t sure you’d be able to force yourself to get off it once sitting, and a vast media wall.

‘Would you like me to show you where?’ Aunty Mary tried again.

Is this normal for her?

I felt my brow furrow as I mulled over my thoughts.

Do kidnapped girls regularly turn up here?

I thought of the accusation that still hung over Dante’s papa and his family and I removed my confused gaze from her to stare at Dante.

Oh, my God! Was it true?

I stared at him in amazement, frozen to the spot, before finally finding my voice.

‘She’s acting like this is normal. Do all the Italian women you kidnap get brought here?’ I questioned.

He knew exactly what I was alluding to.

‘Giovanna!’ Dante responded quickly to the accusation. His jaw hardened as he met my stare with his own furious looking one.

Aunty Mary looked back at me completely unfazed.

‘I’ve found a few in his bed before now.’ She smiled as my mouth dropped open at her answer. ‘Although, he doesn’t normally have to kidnap them to get them there,’ she retorted as a smirk captured her soft, friendly looking features.

‘Aunt Mary.’ Dante’s tone was apologetic.

‘It’s fine, Dante… You look tired, Giovanna. I’ll go and arrange one of the guest rooms.’ She nodded at me enthusiastically and added a welcoming smile, before reaching out to place one hand on my forearm. I looked down at her hand.

‘What I’d really like to do is to go back to Italy.’ I turned my head suddenly away from her gentle touch and looked straight at Dante as he moved away from me and grabbed at a bottle of Italian beer from a glass doored fridge at one end of the kitchen units. He turned back and reciprocated to shoot me a look as he heard the rude tone I’d used. ‘Could you arrange that?’ I carried on as I questioned sarcastically, opening my eyes wider at him.

‘Sei un ospite a casa di mia, per favore trattala con il rispetto che merita.’ Dante unravelled his finger and pointed it, as he reprimanded me.

I felt a little guilty as he demanded I treat her with respect, and then like everything else I’d felt since I’d come to in the private aircraft he’d flown us over in, the guilt evaporated to make way for my anger.

‘Your uncle is in the middle of a meeting,’ she informed him, ‘but he knows you’ve arrived in London, Dante, and he’ll be in contact soon.’ Mary moved to the bottom of the staircase and after she’d placed her hand on the black metal, she turned back to the two of us. ‘You are very welcome here, Giovanna. Try not to be too cross with my favourite nephew. Obviously, I don’t know the full details of what he’s done…’ She glared at him for a few seconds and then continued. ‘I can, however, see how much you mean to him and that has to count for something.’

---