365 Days

by Blanka Lipinska

  The sense of those words got me thinking. So did Massimo’s worried expression.

  “Am I in danger?”

  “Baby girl, your life was in danger from the very first moment you arrived. So just let me take care of things so you stay safe.”

  On instinct, I put my hand on my belly, under the sheets. I knew I wasn’t responsible only for myself anymore, but for the little human growing inside me. “I’ll do whatever you ask.”

  Massimo lifted himself on his arm, sending me a puzzled look and frowning. “What’s with the sudden obedience, Laura?”

  I knew he had the right to know about our baby. I also knew that conversation wasn’t something I could run away from, but I didn’t want to talk about it just before he had to leave. This wasn’t the proper moment. “You’re just right. I get it now. I’m a clever girl.”

  I kissed him and slid right back under his arm.

  Around seven in the morning I was woken up by gentle prodding. Massimo’s erect phallus was pressing itself against my buttocks. I turned my head his way, discovering with some amusement that he was still asleep. Slowly I slid my hand between us and grabbed his penis, starting to stroke it. Massimo moaned softly and turned onto his back. I propped myself on my elbow and watched his reaction. My grip tightened and my movements grew faster. Suddenly his eyes snapped open, but when he saw me, he closed them again. His hand slid under the sheets and started to softly rub my lace panties.

  “Harder,” he whispered.

  I did as he asked and felt his hand venture deeper, reaching my wet snatch. Massimo inhaled sharply and started to play with me, writhing in ecstasy. His phallus grew longer and harder.

  “Get on top of me,” he said, licking his lips and throwing the duvet off the bed.

  The motion revealed his astounding erection, and I suddenly felt hot.

  “Not going to happen, love,” I replied, kissing his chin. “I want to pleasure you this way.”

  “But I want to be inside you.”

  He turned to the side and pressed himself to me, hooking his finger under the fabric of my panties and drawing it away before roughly shoving his cock inside me. I cried out, my fingers digging into the skin of his back. He fucked me hard and violent, until he remembered that he couldn’t finish inside me—we had no condoms. So he pulled out, panting heavily, and moved up over my head, placing his hands on the wall behind the bed.

  “Finish me off,” he whispered, sliding his cock into my mouth.

  I sucked him passionately, my fingers delicately stroking his balls.

  A moment later I felt his body growing tense, and a wave of sticky semen flooded my throat. He bellowed loudly, his hands clutching the headboard. When he was finished, Massimo collapsed onto the mattress next to me, trying to catch his breath.

  “You can wake me up like that every morning,” he breathed, smiling.

  I tried swallowing his load but felt myself gagging.

  I jumped out of the bed and sprinted to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. I leaned over the toilet and threw up. When I was finished, I sat down with my back to the wall, suddenly becoming acutely aware that I was pregnant. Jesus, this is bad, I thought. If each blow job was going to end in throwing up, I wouldn’t be able to do it at all!

  Massimo stepped into the doorway, crossing his arms.

  “That pizza last evening must have been bad. I knew something was wrong with it.”

  “The pizza, huh?”

  “Yeah. Plus, drugs can change the taste and smell of semen, so think of that next time you’re in a mood to snort some coke,” I said, getting up and grabbing a toothbrush.

  The Man in Black leaned against the doorframe, taking a moment to study me.

  I finished brushing my teeth and kissed him on the cheek on my way to the bedroom.

  “It’s early. I think I’ll lie down for a while more.”

  I slid into bed and switched the TV on. Massimo was still in the doorway but turned and was now facing me. I was switching channels mindlessly, feeling his eyes on me.

  “I want a physician to take a look at you before I leave,” he said, walking across the room to the closet.

  My heart skipped a beat. I didn’t know which doctor he would call, but even a witch doctor wouldn’t be able to discover I was pregnant only from taking my pulse. Or so I hoped.

  Twenty minutes later, Massimo stopped by the bed. He looked exactly the same as when I had first seen him back at the airport. Black suit and black shirt, bringing out the color of his skin and his eyes. He was authoritative, unyielding, and looked like a real gangster. Keeping the last vestige of calmness, I turned to the TV and said, “I don’t think a bit of indigestion is enough of a reason to have me checked out by a physician, but whatever. I can diagnose myself and even come up with a treatment. Some stomach bitters, black tea, and stale bread. Want me to prescribe you something for that anxiety, too?”

  Massimo took a step closer, smiling gently.

  “Better safe than sorry, right?” I grabbed him by the belt. “Wasn’t that morning blow job enough of a treatment, Mr. Torricelli? Maybe you’re not satisfied with the service?”

  The Man in Black laughed, stroking my face.

  “I always want more, but we don’t have time to sate me for now. Get ready for our wedding night. We’ll have a lot to make up for, baby girl.”

  He leaned over me and kissed me on the lips passionately before going down the stairs.

  “Remember. You promised you won’t run away anymore. I have an app on my phone that allows me to see where you are. I installed the same app on your phone. Domenico will show you everything. If you don’t like the Porsche, the drivers will take you everywhere, but please don’t take any of the sports cars. I’m afraid you won’t be able to handle them. I’ve got some surprises planned for you so you don’t grow bored. You might want to have a look around. I hid them in the spots where we had our first times together. See you Saturday.”

  When he left, I felt my eyes watering. I rushed out of bed and chased after him, jumping into his arms, wrapping my legs around his hips, clinging to him like a koala bear on a tree branch.

  “I love you, Massimo.”

  He purred with delight, holding me against the wall and sticking his tongue into my mouth in a luscious kiss. “I like that you love me. Now get back to bed.”

  He put me down and walked away, and I stood there, tears threatening to spill down my cheeks, watching as he opened the door. “I’ll be back,” he whispered, closing it behind him.

  For a long while I kept still, wondering if this would be how I felt every time he left—praying that he returned safely. I forced the thought from my head and went to the terrace. Another beautiful day was beginning in Sicily—the clouds were slowly retreating, making way for the sun to warm the island. I took a seat in a lounge chair and stared out to the calm sea. A while later I felt a soft blanket sliding down around my shoulders.

  “I brought you tea with milk,” said Domenico, sitting next to me. “And a few pills for your anemia.”

  He placed vials with medicine on the table between us and started listing them: “Folic acid, zinc, iron, and all the rest you need in the first trimester.”

  I froze, gaping at him. “You know I’m pregnant?”

  The young man smiled and nodded, making himself comfortable in his seat. “Don’t worry. I’m the only one who knows. I won’t tell anyone. This is between you and Massimo.”

  “But you didn’t tell Massimo?” I asked, unable to contain my fear.

  “Of course not. There are things even family has no right to meddle in. You have to tell him yourself. Nobody can take that away from you.”

  I sighed with relief and took a sip of the tea. “I’m praying it’s a girl,” I said with a melancholy smile.

  Domenico turned his head to look at me and chuckled good-naturedly. “A girl can become the head of the family, too, you know,” he replied with a half smile, raising his brows.

  I pun
ched him on the shoulder. “Don’t even say that. It isn’t funny.”

  “Have you thought about a name yet?”

  I hesitated, watching him. I’d known about the pregnancy for only a day. Thinking about a name hadn’t really crossed my mind yet. “First, I have to go see a doctor to help me understand the process. I’ll think of the details later.”

  “I booked you a spot for tomorrow, three in the afternoon. Same clinic as yesterday. Now, come put some clothes on and let’s go have breakfast. Me knowing your little secret means I’ve got to take a bit more interest in your diet.”

  As we crossed the bedroom, I noticed a large box occupying the center of the bed.

  “What’s that?” I asked, turning to Domenico.

  “A gift from don Massimo,” he explained, giving me a big smile and heading toward the staircase. “I’ll be waiting in the garden.”

  I opened the box, revealing two smaller packages with the Givenchy logo on them. I took them out and opened them, too. Both held the beautiful boots that Carlo’s wife had had on when we met in the restaurant in Warsaw. I was in love with those shoes, but nobody in their right mind would have paid what they cost. I jumped up and down, squealing with joy. Both pairs were the same, only differing in color. I grabbed the boots, hugged them to my chest, and went to the closet, scanning all the gorgeous things on the hangers. I wouldn’t be able to fit into any of those things in a few months. I’d miss the New Year’s Eve binge and all the parties with Olga… How the hell would I explain all that to my parents? Resigned, I plopped down in an armchair, still clutching the boots, thinking about all that frantically.

  Then it dawned on me: I needed to go see my mom before my pregnancy showed. Then I’d be able to get away with not visiting if I sold her some story about work taking up too much of my time. My master plan had only one fault—the child would be born sooner or later, and that wouldn’t be so easy to explain to my parents.

  “Goddamn it, what a shitshow,” I groaned, getting up. As long as my figure was still perfect, I decided to take as much advantage as possible of the contents of my closet. For my first day with Olga, I picked the boots I had gotten from Massimo. They’d go great with white shorts and a flowy gray shirt with long, rolled-up sleeves. I applied some delicate makeup and brushed my hair, putting my perfect bob in order. It was past ten when I was finished. I moved my things to an off-white Prada handbag and put on gold aviators. Before leaving the apartment, I stopped to look at myself in the mirror, unable to keep myself from letting out a gasp. My outfit had cost as much as my first car! Not counting the ridiculously expensive watch. Including that, the total price would probably reach that of a whole apartment. I felt attractive and very, very chic. But was this still me?

  I hadn’t thought Domenico would be so concerned with my condition. When I joined him for breakfast, he fed me, practically against my will, just like my mom used to do.

  “Domenico, for fuck’s sake, I’m not starving, you know,” I groaned, irritated when he put another portion of eggs on my plate. “I don’t want to eat any more. I’ll only get nauseous again. Let’s go already. I don’t want to be late.”

  The young Italian gave me a disappointed look. “Maybe at least take an apple for the road?”

  “Jesus! Take it yourself! And quit overfeeding me, you psycho!”

  The road to Catania passed weirdly quickly. Or maybe it just felt like it. I had a lot to think about. I picked a car with a driver this time so Massimo wouldn’t have to worry.

  We parked by the airport terminal. I was glad I could spend some time with Olga alone—Domenico had sensed I needed it and stayed at the mansion. When I saw my friend emerge from the building, I didn’t wait for the driver to open the door for me, instead running straight at her.

  “Are those the Givenchy boots I can’t afford?” Olga asked as soon as I fell into her arms, hugging her tightly. “Holding me like that won’t get you anywhere. I’ll still steal them!”

  “Hi! It’s so good to see you,” I said.

  “Well, your voice when you called me was so terrible, I knew I had no other option.”

  The driver took her bags and opened the door for us.

  “Oooh, this is serious,” Olga said, getting inside. “We get a private driver? I’m curious about the rest.”

  “Bodyguards, servants, and constant surveillance,” I replied, shrugging. “Transmitters, wiretaps, and gangsters wherever you look. Welcome to Sicily.” I spread my arms wide, smiling sardonically.

  Olga frowned, giving me a quizzical look. “What’s happening? I haven’t heard you like that in a while.”

  “I wanted to sell you some lie, but that wouldn’t work. Not with you. I’m getting married on Saturday and I want you to be my maid of honor.”

  Olga froze, staring at me in shock, her mouth agape.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” she screamed. “I can understand falling for that gangster guy and wanting to take a shot at being with him, especially since he’s offering you a life straight out of a fairy tale, has a knee-length dick, and looks like a god… But marrying him? After, like, two months? I am supposed to be the one who believes in divorce, not you! You always wanted it to be romantic, till death do us part, house, kids, and all that stuff. What’s happening to you? He made you do it, right? I’ll fucking rip him apart! He can’t keep making you do things. You left the country, he turned you into some kind of doll straight out of Vogue, and now this!” she yelled, barely breathing at all.

  I turned my head away from her, unable to listen to her anymore.

  “I’m pregnant,” I said.

  Olga fell silent. Her eyes bulged, and I was sure they’d pop out and roll down to the floor.

  “You’re what?”

  “I learned yesterday. That’s why I wanted you to come here. Massimo doesn’t know about it yet.”

  “Can we stop? I need to have a smoke.”

  I asked the driver to stop at the first place he deemed suitable. Olga jumped out of the car and lit a cigarette with shaking hands. After having one, she immediately lit another. She took a drag and said, “You’re living in a gilded cage, but it’s still a cage. And now this. Are you aware of what you’re getting yourself into?”

  “What am I to do, huh? Tell me. It’s already happened. I can’t get rid of the baby.” I remained in my seat, glaring at her, raising my voice as I continued. “You yell at me as if I’m some kind of idiot, clueless as to what I have done. Yeah, I was stupid. Yeah, I wasn’t careful, and I fucked up, but I don’t exactly have a fucking time machine. So unless you have one, shut the fuck up and start being supportive! Fuck!”

  Olga stood there, perfectly still, watching me as tears streaked down my face. “Come here,” she said, flicking the cigarette away and getting back into the car to hug me. “I love you. And the kid…” She hesitated for a moment. “At least it’s going to be good-looking. With parents like you, it has no other option.”

  We spent the rest of the way in silence, each one of us trying to get their thoughts into some semblance of order. I knew she was right. Her words were what I had thought, only feared to say aloud. That didn’t change the fact that my life had really slipped out of my hands. I had no control.

  When we were nearing the mansion, I turned to look at Olga. “Let’s try and have some fun at least. I don’t want to think about all that.”

  “I’m sorry,” she replied, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses. “But you didn’t exactly prepare me for the news.” The car pulled up to the house, and Domenico was already waiting for us. Olga scanned her surroundings, shocked at what she was seeing.

  “Holy mother of fuck! This is like Dynasty! You live here on your own or do you run a hotel?”

  That made me laugh. I was glad Olga’s good humor was back.

  “Yeah, I know, it’s a bit too much, but you’ll like it. Come with me,” I said as the young Italian opened the door on my side of the car.

  I introduced the two and saw they immediat
ely liked each other. That had been pretty likely—Olga loved fashion and charming, handsome men.

  “He’s gay, I think,” she whispered to me as we walked down the corridor. “Good thing he can’t understand us.”

  “I’m going to disappoint you right there—the word ‘gay’ is the same in many languages, so I think he might just have gotten a hint there,” I whispered back.

  Passing my former room, I recalled Massimo’s words as he spoke to me about our first times together and the surprises he had left for me. “Wait a second,” I said, grabbing the handle.

  I went inside, feeling strangely anxious. Everything was… mine. So familiar. Untouched. Only the sheets had been changed, and the closet emptied of my things. There was a black envelope lying on the bed. I sat down on the edge of the bed and opened it. Inside there was a voucher for a luxury spa and a short note: Whatever you like. I hugged the note to my chest, already missing my Man in Black.

  He could surprise me even when he wasn’t around. I took out my phone and called him.

  “We’ll be at the end of the corridor,” Domenico said, pulling Olga along. Three rings later, I heard the familiar voice.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you,” I breathed to the receiver.

  “Me too, baby girl. Something happened?”

  “No. I just found the envelope and wanted to thank you.”

  “Only one?” he asked, surprised.

  “There’s more?”

  “You have to do better, Laura. There was more than one first time for us. Has Olga joined you already?”

  “Yes, thank you, we’re already home.”

  “Have fun. And don’t worry—everything is going great.”

  I hung up and went to search for the other surprises.

  I could think of at least a few options, but I didn’t know where to begin. It would be logical to retrace the steps of our recent past.

  “The library,” I whispered, and headed that way. There was another black envelope on the seat of the armchair where I had sat that first night. I opened it and found a credit card with another note: Spend it all. Oh, God, I didn’t even want to think how much money was on that thing.