Page 35 of Savage Prince

Otto’s good eye narrows as he regards me, the hatred pouring out so potent through that one eye, he might as well have had twelve. “Si, signore,” he murmurs.

“Serena is mine to handle,coglione. How far do you think she possibly could have gotten on those things?” He ticks his head at the crutches splayed on the floor. “Now pick them up, hand them to her and apologize.”

Otto stares at him incredulously.

Damn, Antonio’s mood swings are making my head spin. One minute he’s threatening to kill me and the next he’s threatening to maim others or worse for touching me? Someone must be feeling guilty.

“Now,” he hisses, that icy cool demeanor back.

With a grunt, Otto bends down and collects my fallen crutches. He hands them to me with a scowl.

“The apology…” Antonio snaps.

“Scusi, signorina,” he mutters through clenched teeth.

“Now get out of my sight before I lose my temper.” He waves off his guard, and the man’s angry footfalls reverberate across the quiet hall.

Gently running my fingers across the back of my head, I search for the bump I’m sure the big beast caused when he slammed me against the wall.

Antonio inches closer. “Are you alright?” The hard set of his jaw has softened but the murderous gleam in his eye remains.

“Why the hell do you care? If you’re going to kill me anyway…”

“Cazzo, Serena, I’m not going to kill you.” He huffs out a breath. “We both know that wouldn’t get me anywhere with your father.”

My brows furrow as I tip my head back to meet his weary gaze. “Is that the only reason?”

“It has to be.”

CHAPTER 18

TERROR

Serena

I wander around the villa for the next few hours by myself, Antonio’s callous remark to Tony still irritating me. Which I fully realize makes no sense. I’m a hostage, of course death is a possibility. But somehow in the past few days, I’ve felt like something shifted between us.

Clearly, I’m more deluded than I thought.

I pass through the perfectly manicured gardens and pause at a circle of lounge chairs positioned along the lake. For a house that’s been abandoned for twenty-some odd years, everything is still pristine. Why would Antonio spend so much money to preserve the place if he had no plans to ever return here?

“Buongiorno, signorina.” Mariuccia appears from beneath a hedge of sweetly perfumed gardenia. She’s on her hands and knees, pruning the deep green leaves.

“Buongiorno.” I take a few shaky steps on the crutches toward her before she waves a hand.

“Please, sit,signorina. I would hate for you to fall on the uneven ground.” She rises, shakes the dirt off her gloved hands, and walks toward me.

I wonder if she heard about my attempted escape last night. She’s right, the ground is totally uneven and if Antonio hadn’t caught me, I probably wouldn’t have made it far before I landed on my ass. I plop onto the lounge chair, resting my crutches on the side and draw in a breath of fresh air. Leaning against the lounger, I brush the knot on the back of my head from that asshole Otto and wince.

Maybe I should have agreed to the ice Antonio had offered to lessen the swelling. Too late now.

Mariuccia folds down on the chair beside me, lively gray eyes on the rippling waves of Lago di Como before turning to me. Her gaze trails over my dress, and a smile curls the corners of her mouth.

“Thank you for the clothes, by the way. Antonio mentioned you went out last night to get them. That was very kind of you.”

“I’m glad they fit. I had to guess on the size.”

“They’re perfect and just my style.” I give her a warm smile in return. “And you bought me so many. I hope you don’t know something I don’t. I wasn’t planning on being here long enough to use them all.”

---