Page 28 of Surprise Pregnancy for Villain

“Not right away. Such a pretty piece of ass shouldn’t go to waste. She’ll provide plenty of entertainment in the meantime,” he says, flashing a grisly smile.

My stomach turns. Nausea sweeps over me. “No,” I say bluntly. “I won’t fucking do this.”

“What?” Stefano bellows, his features darkening with fury. “You will do as I say, or this entire empire goes to your brother. Is that clear?”

We stare each other down for a charged minute. I’ve never refused an assignment. This is new ground, dangerous ground, one where I don’t have a leg to stand on if I expect to fulfill my carefully planned future. This isn’t the time or place for this battle.

“Crystal.” I get up from my chair and cross the room, nearly ripping the hinges off his office door as I exit. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. All I know is I need to get the hell out of this house until I figure out what to do. My choices are to bring Nicki to my father or fail to bring her. I’m fucked either way.

I take a quick shower to clear my head and wash away the slimy film of utter disgust that still clings to me after that conversation. I grab a few changes of clothes and stuff them in a sports bag, along with extra weapons and ammo because a war is surely coming one way or another.

I carry the bag with me, down the stairs and to the front entrance where I’d parked my Maserati in the roundabout outside. I’m almost to the door when I sense someone behind me. Spinning around, I’m again face-to-face with my little brother, his expression one of undisguised rage.

“You selfish fucking bastard,” he hisses, his venom lacing his voice. “Couldn’t stand to share the glory with anyone but yourself, could you?”

Obviously, our father has given him the bad news.

“What did you say to him, huh? To take me off the case? I’ll fucking kill you, I swear…”

Months of suppressed fury arises as he lunges forward, fists cocked. I drop the bag, then bulldoze into his midsection, taking him down like a bowling pin. His head hits the marble floor, and I hold him there, one hand on his neck and the other poised for a lights-out punch.

“Kill me?” I tighten my grip around his neck. “You tried that once, remember?”

Alessandro squawks, sucking in air.

“Lucky for you, Father begged me to forgive and forget. Yet, you clearly don’t valueyourlife.”

Alessandro grasps at my arms, trying to fend me off, his eyes full of rage but also fear. “Get this through your fucking head, little brother. You willneverbe Don. You willnevertake over. If you threaten me again, I won’t care about that peace treaty Father made us sign. I will fucking end you.”

Panting for breath, I release him and back off. I pick up my bag and walk out the door, practically running down the stone steps and to the sanctuary of my car. Only when I get behind the wheel do I start to breathe normally again. In the rearview mirror, I see Alessandro stumble out onto the entrance steps, staring after me as I start the engine and pull away.

I speed through the exit gates, leaving the estate and my immediate family behind. But there is no way to leave the dark world in which they exist and in which I was formed. It’s a life sentence, one with no parole, and no escape except death. Someone will die, but I’m going to find a way to make sure it’s not Nicoletta. Or me.

Chapter Thirteen

Nicoletta

I awake from a crazy dream, gasping for breath. Broken, disjointed images from my dream flash in my mind. Standing in the life drawing studio at school, the nude model comes over to me; we’re alone, and he’s kissing me. However, his face morphs into someone else’s, yet it’s hard to make out. As our tongues dance, his face transforms, as if it’s undecided about its true identity. We’re both naked, and I’m excited but scared we’ll be caught. He takes me in his arms, and then everything fades, slipping away into nothing.

I open my eyes, but I don’t recognize my surroundings. Momentary panic grips me, until pieces of reality snap together like a puzzle in my consciousness. I’m a prisoner in some godforsaken cabin in the middle of who knows where, held captive by a demented member of my family’s most bitter and hated rival. I’m hungry, sore, grubby from wearing the same clothes for three days, and yes, scared. Scared of what he might do to me, and why; scared of his imposing physique, and rough hands that could snap my neck in an instant. Scared of how I feel when I gaze into his dark, mesmerizing eyes. Something behind their surface coldness pulls at me, like water to a drain, and I think that frightens me the most.

I throw off the blankets and sit up on the sagging but reasonably comfortable bed I fell asleep on, too exhausted from my failed attempt to escape to stay awake any longer.

With a shiver, I remember something else about the dream. Just as the vision faded, I remember seeing the model’s face up close—and it had changed once again into one resembling Ezio Rossi’s.

I must be delirious from the stress of my ordeal. I could never get close to that monster of a man who taunts and imprisons me and refuses to even tell me why. He vows that he doesn’t want to hurt me, but how can I believe anything he says? He’s already hurt me plenty, just by bringing me here and leaving me here alone for hours on end. If that’s not hurting, what is?

I glance at the bedside table, and my half-spilled breakfast plate is still sitting there. I’d been too angry to eat it before, and now it’s beyond edible. I suppose I’ll have to eat whatever he brings me in future if I want to survive. With a sigh, I get up off the bed and walk to the bathroom. At least I can take a shower and make myself feel half-human again. I turn on the shower taps and undress, peeling off my jeans, tee-shirt, panties, and bra.

The water is running nice and hot as I step into the small shower. It cascades over my shoulders and down my back and legs, and damn, after what I’ve been through the past few days, it feels better than any shower I’ve ever had. Has it been days? How many days? How many hours? I think it’s Thursday, but my sense of time is messed up. My father must be going crazy by now and probably has the entire Borelli clan out looking for me.

I think about my dad, my home, even my Aunt Carlotta. I want to get out of this place, but do I really want to go home? What will be waiting for me there? More humiliation, more security measures, and even less freedom than I had before. And Lucca. I shiver in spite of the shower’s steamy heat. He’ll still be there, waiting like a spider in a cobwebby corner to claim me as his property. I’d be just as trapped back at home as I am now.

I take a deep breath, inhaling the comforting, cloudy vapor and then letting it out again. There’s only one thing to do. Escape. Go at it alone. Leave the country, even. But there’s one big obstacle in my way; one big dude with muscles to spare, with deep green haunting eyes and jet-black hair, who has the strength and will to keep me here for as long as he wants. Whatdoeshe want? I don’t even know.

With a sigh, I turn the water off and step out of the shower. I grab a towel from a stack on a shelf above the toilet and dry off. My dirty clothes are in a heap on the floor, and I can’t bear to put them on again now that I’m clean. I toss them in the sink and fill it with water to let them soak. Fortunately, there’s another large towel in the stack, and as I wrap it around me, I see myself in the mirror. God. I look like a drowned rat. I can’t even comb my hair since the bastard stole my knapsack and purse. It’s bad enough to be a prisoner, but must I look like one, too?

My skin seems ghastly pale contrasted with my dark hair that falls in tangles over my shoulders and even whiter next to the dark stubble that covers my pussy. I haven’t been to the wax studio in several weeks. It doesn’t seem likely I’ll get there anytime soon. The pink, puckered skin around my nipples affords the only other color on my body, drawing attention to my small, apple-sized breasts. Such a cruel trick of nature, to give me thunder thighs but tiny tits. I wish it were the other way around. What man would find this figure attractive?

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