Page 29 of Savage Prince

Rolling around in bed, even the tranquil sounds of the waves below do nothing to lull me back to sleep. Damned jet lag. I squeeze my eyes closed and try for the tenth time to force my spinning thoughts to quiet.

It’s no use though, I’m freaking wide awake. And hungry…

My stomach rumbles, reminding me I never had dinner since it ended up on the floor thanks to my current captor. That look on his face when he walked in on me naked made it all worth it though. Almost.

Maybe if I’d eaten I wouldn’t find myself up at—I glance at the clock on the nightstand—three o’clock in the morning. Well, I refuse to spend another minute tossing and turning in bed. Shoving the silky coverlet off, I slide to the edge of the mattress. The full moon peeking in through the open doors of the balcony sweeps into the room, bathing it in a beautiful silver glow. A breeze blows in, raising the tiny hairs along my arms.

Standing, I wrap my arms across my chest, reveling in the soft fabric of Antonio’s dress shirt. I draw in a breath, my lungs hungry for that enticing scent of his. It’s a warm amber mixed with cool shadows and dark secrets.Ugh, stop it. Shaking the stupid out of my head, I eye the door to my right then the one across the way. The main door, I already know is locked, and being guarded by Otto the pirate with his one good eye, and the other one leads to Antonio’s room.

Maybe that one is open…

I creep across the room, trying to shift my weight so most of it is on my good ankle. Even wrapped by the kind doctor, it still hurts like hell when I walk. A shiver skates up my spine as I pass the open balcony doors, and pause at Antonio’s, pressing my ear to the timber. Nothing but silence on the other side. Holding my breath, I twist the knob, and it opens.

The creak of the hinges sends my pulse skyrocketing, and I freeze in the doorway, gaze pinned to the unmade bed.

The empty bed. Where is my handsome captor?

Without wasting time to consider, I stagger across the room and find another door, presumably the one that leads to the hallway. My pulse quickens, indecision warring through my insides. Whipping it open, I find the corridor empty, with the exception of a snoring one-eyed guard. Otto is slumped against my door, his haggard breaths filling the passageway.

This is my chance.

I tiptoe down the hall, cursing the fact that my only pair of shoes are stilettos which there’s no way I can manage in my current state, so I’m stuck attempting an escape barefoot and limping. Beggars can’t be choosers.

I’ll be damned if I don’t take the opportunity anyway.

Finding my way to the grand spiraling double staircase, I clutch onto the banister for support and hobble down. Pausing at the landing, I scan the dimly lit first floor. All quiet. I skulkdown the last few steps, my heart battering my ribcage as hope floods my chest. I’m already making plans to hitchhike to the center of town and beg a kind stranger for a ride back to Milano by the time I reach the front door. I can do this. I can escape. And find a way to warn Isabella before Antonio can make good on his vow.

My heart races as I peer through the villa's ornate French doors, my gaze scanning the sprawling estate bathed in moonlight. The lush gardens glisten with dew, shadows cast by the olive trees offering patches of darkness to move through undetected.

Closing my fingers around the antique handle, I glance over my shoulder one last time. That portrait of the Ferraras stares at me from across the foyer. That little boy with the dark eyes glances at me, almost pleading. Shit, I’ve lost my damned mind.

With a quick flick of my wrist, I yank the door open and creep out into the brisk night. I immediately regret not snagging a jacket of some sort on my way out. Too late now. Making my way around the edge of the grand estate while avoiding the guards in the utter darkness with only the moon as a guide is more difficult than I expected. Not to mention the whole limping thing.

In only a few hours at the villa, I’ve learned the guards' routines—two at the front, one patrolling the back, and another by the gate. Timing is everything.

With a deep, steadying breath, I slip across theterrazzo, my feet whispering against the cool stone tiles. The scent of jasmine hangs heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the adrenaline surging through my veins. I keep close to the flowering hedges surrounding the veranda, my eyes locked on the silhouette of the gate guard, illuminated by a flickering lantern. As he turns away, I dash for the gate across the driveway, my heart pounding in my ears.

The gravel crunches softly under my feet, a sound impossibly loud in the silence of the night. I’m almost there, just a few more steps. I spy one of the guards on the eastern corner, staring out into the rippling lake. I hold my breath as I tiptoe past him along the pathway. With my eyes on him, I round a sprawling olive tree and barrel into a wall. Muttering a curse, I look up as steel bands close around me and a pair of raging midnight eyes meet mine.

Merda. Definitely not a wall.

Antonio’s jaw ticks, a tendon jumping beneath the shadow of his dark scruff. His body presses into me, that amber scent invading my nostrils. “Serena, you swore to me…”

“What?” I giggle awkwardly. “Oh, you thought I was trying to escape?” I slap him playfully on the bare chest, ignoring the perfect dips and valleys of his torso. “I was just looking for the kitchen and the beautiful moon-lit lake caught my eye. So I decided to go for a little walk. You know, it’s a funny story really. I woke up starving and?—”

“Enough!” he growls, his firm hands pinning mine behind my back. He shoves me until I hit the tree trunk and let out a squeal.

“Watch it,bastardo!” I hiss.

“You promised me you wouldn’t run. I told you what would happen if you did, your cousin would be the one to pay.”

Fear strikes me, sharp and true. “Please, no, Antonio, not Isabella. I’m sorry, okay?”

He glares down at me, fury streaking across the endless abyss of his sinister gaze. He shoves his knee between my legs pinning me against the rough bark. “Cazzo, why must you make me a monster? I’m trying—” He bites back the last word.

“I’m sorry, I am.” I tip my chin up, fixing my eyes to his and try for my most sincere expression. “I really was hungry and then I found you gone and Otto asleep, what would you have done in my position?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

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