Page 65 of Surprise Pregnancy for Villain

“Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?” the voice calls out to me. I snap back to reality and manage to get my legs moving. I run back to the bedroom and lock the door. I grab a pistol from the bag and hide in a corner that’s parallel to the door. The banging stops, and then I hear a crash. The front door gives way and collapses into the floor, reduced to nothing but splintering wood.

They’re in!

My hands are trembling as I tighten my grip around the gun. I hear the four men enter the cabin. “I’m not here to hurt you,” the voice calls out, “It’s best that you come with us, so nobody gets hurt.” It sounds familiar, almost like Ezio’s voice, but there’s a sinister tone in it that gives it away. “Are you in here?” the voice knocks on the bedroom door.

I aim my gun at the entrance. Whoever walks in now will get a fucking load of my bullets. My fear has now been replaced with anger. Pure fury at these men who dare invade our personal space. The knob starts moving but they can’t get in because it’s locked.

I hear the murmur of voices and within a second, the door shoots off its hinges and lands on the floor. I muffle my scream by biting my lower lip. As the dust settles, a huge figure walks into the room wearing a leather jacket, his gun at the ready. Not as ready as me. His eyes widen as he spots the gun that’s aimed at him. Before he can even react, I squeeze the trigger and fire at his chest. The bullets tear through his flesh. He fires back, and I drop behind the bed as the bullets whiz over my head. It seems my shot has found their mark, anyway. I hear his gasps and a heavy thud as he falls to the floor.

As I cautiously push to my feet, something hard and cold presses against my temple. “Give me the gun, bitch,” a deep growl sounds at my ear. I release it at once, my heart clashing violently in my chest as I brace for the inevitable.

“Don’t you even think of shooting her, you idiot.”

The gun immediately shifts from my temple, and I gasp as a tight grip on my hair yanks me back. I get turned around, and my mouth flies open with shock.

Ezio?

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Ms. Nicoletta Borelli. So, this is where you’ve been hiding all this time.”

I glare at my captor when it sinks in that it’s not the father of my unborn child. His features are thinner, his height shorter, and that darkness in his eyes isn’t sexy, it’s creepy.This must be Alessandro.

“Has my selfish brother been keeping you to himself?” Alessandro pulls my hair and exposes my neck to his view. He leans closer and sniffs my skin like a maniac. “I can see why…”

“Get. Away. From. Me!” I stomp my leg at his foot, and he immediately lets go of my hair. I make a run for the door, but he manages to grab my shoulders and slam me against the wall.

“You little bitch,” Alessandro grips the collar of my shirt. “You’ll pay for that.”

I spit at his face, it hits, and he wipes it away with a silk handkerchief. He then slaps me across my face. I feel the wind knocked out of me for a second before the stinging on my cheek begins. My head is spinning again, nausea rising up my throat.

“My brother was a fool for leaving you here alone.” He smirks at me like the devil. “My father will be very happy when I bring him the precious prize that’s been evading him for weeks.”

Alessandro drops me to the ground as I gasp to catch my breath.

“Take her away,” he says to the two other henchmen.

No! No! Ezio!

I try to scream, but no voice comes out of my mouth. Each of the men grab my arms and drag me outside. I kick at the floor, struggling, biting anything to make them let me go, but they’re too strong and soon enough, they’re throwing me in the back of their car.

***

They must have put something on my gag because I immediately passed out. When I wake up, I find my hands and feet tied with rope. One of the men from earlier is carrying me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. My body feels numb and weak, and even if I want to shout, my throat is dry and sore. My head thumps against his back, the shirt smelling like cheap cologne, adding more to my nausea, as we head down a dimly lit servants’ hall. We ascend a series of staircases until we finally arrive at a carpeted hallway.

This must be the Rossi mansion.

We arrive at a set of carved double doors, and Alessandro knocks before entering.

“Come in,” a hoarse voice answers. Alessandro opens the doors and leads the trio inside. The room is darker than the hallway, and as I scan the place, I realize that it’s a study. The walls are lined with gaudy wallpaper and bookshelves. There are only two windows and, in the middle, stands a large oak desk and a leather swivel chair. Sitting on the chair is an old man. He’s wearing a cotton shirt under a gray vest and pinstriped pants, and he’s puffing his lungs away on a Cuban cigar.

“Alessandro, tell your friend to put her down,” he orders. “That’s no way to treat a guest.” Somehow, his sinister tone slices through his mocking. The man carrying me puts me on one of the velvet chairs. He removes my gag and unties my hands and feet.

Now that I’m facing him head on, I realize that the man looks very much like the older version Ezio.

This must be Stefano Rossi.

“I caught her in the cabin, just like I said,” Alessandro announces with pride.

Stefano waves him off and says, “Why don’t you leave us alone to get acquainted?”

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