Luca

Chapter Two

He drags me down the hallway and through a set of double doors. A black limousine waits outside, another huge man stands beside the door. As we approach, he nods and opens the door for us. Suit gestures for me to get in first, letting go of my arm. I glance around us, taking note of the brick buildings and signs in another language. We're not in America anymore? And it's dark, how long was I out?

I feel something press against my back and I have a feeling that it's a gun.

"Get in," Suit growls. I turn to face him.

"I'd rather die."

He smirks. "Oh, I won't kill you. What a waste of money that would be. No, if you disobey me, however, you will wish you were dead."

I reluctantly climb into the car. Suit sits next to me and the man who I assume is the driver, closes the door. For a few, short, miserable moments, we are alone. He places his gun on the seat between us, the threat silent but clear. I gulp. He pulls a zip tie out of his pants pocket and binds my wrists.

"You will answer three questions." He says, looking me in the eye. I quirk up one eyebrow in response. He clenches his jaw and his hand forms a fist. "Use your words, piccola."

"Okay," I say, more as a question than a statement.

Anger flashes, brightening his eyes for just a moment, as lightning does the sky on a stormy night. "Not those ones."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. "Then what ones? 'Yes sir'?" I ask, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Suit smirks. "Mi piace come suona dalla tua bocca, piccola." (I like how that sounds coming from your mouth, little one) I look at him unimpressed. "Yes." 

I don't respond. His jaw ticks again and he leans over me, wrapping one hand around my throat, squeezing gently to get his point across. I squeeze my legs together, shocked by and angry about my body's reaction to him. "Yes sir," I whisper. Suit smiles and leans back, slowly sliding his fingers down my throat and across my exposed collar bone. His touch leaves a trail of electricity in its wake.

"Can you cook?"

"Yes sir."

"Quick learner. Can you clean?"

"Yes sir."

He nods. "What is your name?"

"Amelia."

He twists one of the rings on his tattooed fingers. "Good girl," he pauses, gauging my reaction. I hate how it makes me feel but I say nothing, clenching my fists. "You may ask one question."

He's obviously going to have me cook and clean, and hopefully nothing else. He's already let me know one of his 'rules' so he'll probably give the others freely, if he has any. The smartest question to ask now would probably be 'who are you' so I know what to expect. "Who are you?"

Suit gives me a lopsided grin and rests his arm on the back of the seat, hand resting behind my head.

"My name is Luca Moretti. I am the Don of the Italian mafia." With those words, my entire world shifts, every hope and dream shattered. I've read books. Now that I know who he is, there is no way he'll let me go alive. Omerta and all that.

He must see the fear in my eyes, not for the first time since meeting him, but this is definitely the most afraid I've been since that night in the parking lot. Luca reaches over to me and wipes a tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb. Without breaking eye contact, he brings his thumb to his mouth and licks it, consuming my fear of him.

"Are you scared, piccola?"

"Yes sir." My voice shakes.

"Good."