The Mafia Boss

Part 2: The Attempted Escape

"Holy shit," I exclaim. It all makes sense now, the nightly phone calls, and shitty excuses, the leaving and lying. This man standing in front of me so gently tending my cuts is the son of the most powerful man in the world. But what the hell does this man want with me? Why go through all that trouble to kidnap a random nobody like me?

"Well, if what you claim is true, what the hell does the son of the fucking mafia boss want with me?" I might as well ask. 

"I just wanted to see you again," he replies nonchalantly. That pisses me off. He should not have said that; that was an idiotic move. I pull away from his grasp, this time managing to retrieve my arm, jump off the sink, and say: 

"You wanted to see me again? You wanted to see me again? So, your plan for seeing me again was to fucking kidnap me? You are an imbecile, an idiot. You take me against my free will, hold me captive to see me again? " The dumbass, the absolute insane psycho. He stands there, staring at me with a sinister look on his face. I take the opportunity to escape.

I turn around, face the open door, and run into the bedroom. Behind me, I hear a groan and a curse escaping his mouth. I run out of the room through the door he was stupid enough to have left open. It's funny, we dated for two months and yet he seems not to know me at all. If he did, he would have known that I am not one to stay around and let myself get fucking kidnapped. 

Outside the room, I discover I'm on the third floor of a massive fucking villa, with at least three more floors above me. How unsurprising that he owns a villa. I am willing to bet he owns more and probably like three thousand Maserati's and Ferrari's. I turn left and run towards the staircase leading down. I descend as fast as possible, focusing on not falling over and killing myself. Footsteps hit the steps behind me, my head turns and I see Matteo running after me, swiftly catching up. My speed quickens and I jump the last steps. Two more staircases to go. I sprint to the next one and keep on going, almost tripping in the process. Every time I look Matteo gets closer and closer. When I reach the second floor and race for the last staircase, he catches me by the waist from behind with one arm, I hear breathing in my ear and the unclasping of handcuffs. I feel the coldness of the metal on my skin. He puts me over his shoulder as if I weigh nothing and brings me up the stairs to a room I had not seen on the way down.

"Don't ever try to run from me like that again, my little angel."

My little angel? He has a fucking nickname for me now? As if he has the right to call me anything but my name. I move my wrists, trying to free them, but fail. I tug my hands away from the bedpost they are attached to with as much strength as I can muster, rewarded only with a chuckle from the man standing in front me. I am sitting on the edge of a large bed in the shape of a square and colored with a dark shade of blue. The bedposts on each corner of the bed connect to the roof of the canopy, to protect from a rainstorm totally about to happen inside the room. Rich people go so overboard, it's ridiculous.

I lift my gaze up to meet his hypnotizing green eyes. Green like the leaves on a tree in spring. Like the grass in a park. Like the plants. Like nature. Like life. I stare into those endless green eyes. Those absorbing, enchanting, beautiful green eyes. Observing them, losing myself in them, forgetting where I am, who he is. Forgetting where I am, which is handcuffed to his bed, abducted, captured, stuck. Forgetting who he is, which is a lunatic who kidnapped me and for what reason? Still unknown. 

He grins, looking down at me, sitting on the edge of the bed, the tips of my feet barely touching the floor. I give him the bitchiest face I can, showing him how much I hate him, showing him how much of a prick he is, how unfair it is for him to be so hot but so incredibly infuriating and entitled. His grin widens, making my breath hitch in my throat.

"You're so cute when you're mad. God, how I missed you, Lucia." He says leaving the heat to rise on my skin. He steps forward keeping his head facing down at me. His hand caresses my cheek. An arrogant smirk grows on his face as he unexpectedly gets down on his knees and spread my legs apart with his left hand. My breathing quickens and my heartbeat goes faster and faster. His hand trails a pattern along my inner thigh. Leaving goosebumps in its wake. I'm wearing shorts and an oversized T-shirt. I wasn't wearing that when I woke up. I just realize he must have changed my clothing without me knowing. 

I try to close my legs, but he grips both my thighs and pushes them open even further. I look down at him, my mouth slighted parted as short pants escape it. He smiles and places his hand at my knee and with a featherlight touch continues the path upwards. Slowly, ever so slowly he goes up and up. I'm frozen in place, I cannot get it into my head to move, to pull away, maybe I just don't want to. His hand reaches just below the exact point I so desperately want it to go to and stops. 

"Remember those times, Lucia? I know you so well, I know exactly what you want," his hand paints circles with light strokes "exactly what you need," he goes round and round and round "exactly what can turn you on," round and round and round, I can't take it, I close my eyes and put my head back letting out a slow, shaky breath. He stops and I miss his hand, yearn for his touch. I bring my head up to face him, once again towering over me. He bends down and brings his lips to my right ear, whispers: 

"And I know exactly how much power I have over your body; how desperate you are for my touch."