Page 32 of Surprise Pregnancy for Villain

I trace my lips with my fingers, remembering the sensation when he pressed his mouth against mine. Instead of a shudder, I feel a tingle run down my spine. I shake my head and wonder what’s wrong with me. I should hate this man, despise him even, but I can’t bring myself to feel those emotions. On the contrary, the dream sparks my curiosity about my captor even more.

I’ve heard of the Rossis before. My father constantly cursed them during his business meetings with our associates like some old pastor going on a dragging sermon. I should have listened more to his rants. But I highly doubt that even the all-knowing Giovanni Borelli would know who Ezio Rossi really was. Even I, who had spent time with the actual man, am still puzzled about who’s hiding behind that persona. I have no idea what Ezio wants with me. He’s like a conflicting mix of personalities — hot now and cold next. But the more I think about his true intentions, the more I want to know about him.

I let out a sigh. The day is yet to start, and I’m already thinking crazy. I glance at the side table and see the breakfast laid out for me. However, instead of the usual takeout boxes, it’s two stacks of plasticware. I open the first one, and it’s a combination of scrambled eggs and sausages. The eggs are fine, but the sausages are a bit burnt. The second one contains two buttered toast, too toasted to my liking, paired together with a sloppy mixture of jam.

Did he make these himself?

I snort out a laugh. Ezio Rossi might be many things, but I doubt a cook is one of them. Still, I feel rather touched by the effort. A smile pulls my lips apart. Maybe, just maybe, we can finally get along.

What the fuck are you thinking, Nicki? Get a grip! He’s still the enemy, in case you forgot.

I nod to myself and finish the breakfast, throwing thoughts of Ezio out of my head. Afterwards, I take another shower. Aside from the humid temperature inside the room making me sticky and my hair frizzy, there’s something about the hot water that instantly calms my mind. I dry myself off and fish out some clothes that Ezio brought me yesterday. As expected, the bra cup is too big, so I opt for a sweater and a pair of shorts that, to my surprise, actually fit. I air dry my hair and tie it up into a messy bun on top of my head. I try jiggling the doorknob, hoping by some miracle that he left it open, but it’s locked. I take a peek at the small window and note that it’s a dark and gloomy day, then I remember him sneaking into my bedroom earlier. Spotting the bags lined up at the side of the bed, I go to investigate.

And my heart makes a silly dance.

Ezio… he’s such an anomaly. I simply can’t figure him out.

How did he know this gift would make me smile? Boxes of books, painting materials, canvases, and even an easel. Everything I need to entertain myself in this small cage. A silver lining to my dreary situation.

Maybe he’s not that bad, after all.

I put up the easel and start painting right away. My mind slips momentarily, and for a short amount of time, I put my worries away and focus on the patches of paint in front of me. I’ve always loved painting. It’s like a form of meditation for me. I try to paint the woods outside the cabin or what I think they would look like.

At around noon, I started to get hungry. I rummage through the boxes again and luckily find a bag of potato chips and a bottle of water. I snack on the chips as I pace around the room. When I feel full, I take a big gulp of the water, grab a book and start reading on the bed. I check the time and conclude that it must be around two in the afternoon.This is odd.Usually at this time, Ezio would be knocking on that door. But there’s still no sign of him. I haven’t seen him since this morning, and he hasn’t bothered me with his presence all afternoon.

He’s probably busy scheming with the Rossis, plotting my fate.The very thought of it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I push him out of my thoughts and remind myself that while his gestures warm my heart, I can’t let down my guard. Instead, I should focus my energy on trying to get out of this place. Ezio told me that my attempts at escape were futile, but he can’t blame a girl for trying, can he?

I toss the book away and turn on the TV. I flick through the channels, hoping to see a story about me, though I highly doubt that the Borellis would involve the press in these matters. Knowing my father, he probably already has his own men on the case. I imagine his desperation as he searches for me.

I never thought I would be saying this, but I long for the day when things would go back to normal, if they ever were. Back when I could just hang out with Katie and the boys. Back when my only worry was marrying Lucca. Not knowing what will happen next terrifies me.

Curling in bed with a pillow tucked between my legs, I stare at the window, wishing I had a superpower that could break glass. Or make me teleport. Or give me super strength. My fate is being decided, and I need a fighting chance. Otherwise, I’m totally fucked.

That harsh realization is the last thing on my mind as I drift off to sleep.When I wake up, it’s dark outside, and I finally hear a set of footsteps making its way into the cabin.

***

“Come in.”

Ezio walks in as I push up to a sitting position in bed, my body feeling loads lighter after my nap. On the contrary, Ezio looks like he hasn't slept a wink. He’s wearing a black shirt under a dark brown leather jacket. His hair is like a messy mop, even messier than mine, his jaw bearing a five o’clock shadow. He smells like rain. There’s a pizza box in his hand that he places on the side table.

“Hungry?” he asks.

Starving. “I could eat,” I mutter.

He tosses me a can of Coke, which I catch with one hand. I pry it open and sip the fizzy drink as I watch him from the corner of my eye. He flips the lid of the box, and I see my favorite Hawaiian pizza. It could be a coincidence, but seeing as how he knew exactly what to gift me earlier, I doubt that it is.

He pulls out plates from a grocery bag and places two slices on it before handing it to me. Our fingers brush as I take it. A slight tick in his jaw tells me that he’s aware of it, too. Did his heart do a gentle flip like mine? Does he feel warm all over?

It would be silly that a momentary touch can have me reacting this way, if not for the fact that his actions have been wearing me down. I’m warming up to him, and I can’t help it. A part of me doesn’t want to help it, either.

“Thanks for dinner,” I say.

Ezio grunts as he piles three slices of pizza onto his plate. He takes his customary seat, his eyes fixed on me.

“And thanks for that gift you left me. I appreciate that thoughtful gesture.”

He nods, biting into a slice.

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