by Alyse Zaftig
And then I remember where I am and why I'm there. I normally sleep naked, so I clutch the sheets around me.
There's the slightest lift of a corner of his mouth, then he's all business. "I'm giving you a job."
"Yeah? What do you want me to do?"
"I have a lot of shit that my mom wanted me to keep for her. I want you to sort through the junk and keep what's important."
"Are you talking about baby photos and report cards?"
Iacopo nods.
"But how can I possibly know what's important and what to throw away?"
"You'll know."
Could he be more cryptic? "Sure," I say, because what else can I say? If he wants to give me a bullshit job that he can not give me directions for and then yell at me when I throw out something important, great.
"I had someone bring the boxes into the sitting room. You're permitted to move around this floor of the house. The windows are wired to the alarm system. Don't try to go downstairs."
"Yes, sir." I feel like Belle right now.
"I'll come back at the end of the day to check your progress."
He leaves. I can still smell his scent in my room, though. He smells like dark musk. It makes my mouth water. I hate that he makes my mouth water. I wish that I could just hate him.
I put on some clothes and head for the sitting room where we were sitting yesterday. My jaw drops to the floor. Every spare inch is filled with a box. When he said that he had a job for me, I thought that he was giving me a bullshit task. And maybe it is, but it's a big one.
I clear space on the table that I fantasized about him fucking me on and begin to sort out the first box. It's a bunch of pictures of Iacopo and his mom, who was basically my dad's mom. Biology didn't mean a lot to my actual grandmother. Iacopo's mother was an angel, the way that my dad tells it. I don't understand how he could repay the kindness that he'd been shown for so many years with idiotic theft.
I think about the phone waiting for me in the drawer of my nightstand. I wish that I had more time with my dad to figure out what exactly had happened. And maybe I'll get that chance when he calls me. I should investigate what exactly is on that phone.
It's cute to see baby pictures of Iacopo. His hair was lighter then, a dark brown, not the near-black color that it is now. On the back of a picture of Iacopo at the beach, his mother wrote, "My little boy, age 2". He has grains of sand all over him. There's a smudge on his cheek that looks like it came from a popsicle. He's having the time of his life, building a sand castle that was obviously built enthusiastically but without any regard for the laws of physics or any concept of architecture.
I don't know why, but suddenly I'm thinking about what it would be like to hold Iacopo's baby, one that had my eyes and Iacopo's hair.
I'm insane. That's the only explanation for that idea popping up in my head.
There's something inside of me that wants a baby. I know that I'll have a family some day, but I need to finish school first.
If I even get to go back to school.
Fuck.
I keep sorting through everything. It's like I'm learning about his whole life through his photographs and his report cards. "Doesn't listen in class." He was a troublemaker back then. It's hard to reconcile this adorable little boy with slightly curly hair with the stern man who stole me from my father. I can believe that this cheerful little boy was Uncle Iacopo, but Warden Iacopo is a different man.
A few hours later, I have two piles. I'm exhausted. I need to rest, so I go to one of the chairs and curl up in it. I just want to close my eyes for a second.
I wake up when my body is being carried into my bedroom. He sits down on the bed with me in his arms.
"You fell asleep."
"I did?" I think that I slept a lot the night before, so it's a bit weird that I'm so tired. And all I did was sort through photographs and think about Iacopo today.
"Go to bed. You can get back to work in the morning."
"Aye, aye, captain." Maybe it's the tiredness. Maybe it's the careful way that he's holding me in his arms. But I know that he's the man who has cared about me for my entire life at this moment. I rest my head against his shoulder.
"I like it when you carry me." Immediately, I cringe inside. What a thing to think. What a thing to say!
"I like carrying you."
His grip tightens for a second. Then the moment is gone.
"Go to sleep."
He slides me off of him. I watch as he leaves me alone in my room. I know I need to brush my teeth, but all I want to do is fall asleep.
"You want my baby inside of you, don't you?"
I'm panting, my wrists tied together with a piece of silk. My back is arching as he attacks my breasts with his mouth. I'm writhing underneath him.
"Please fuck me," I moan.
He slides upwards and bites my ear. "When I'm ready."
His hands are pulling my thighs apart, but he doesn't enter me. Instead, he rubs his cock against my clit, which makes stars burst behind my eyes. I'm not going to last long like this.
"Ah!" I start. And then I'm crying out even louder under his body.
"Beg me for my child."
"Please!" I don't know what's happening now. I can't see. But I can still feel. His seed is shooting inside of me, warming me up from the inside out.
"You're pregnant," he says.
The shock brings me out of the dream. What a strange one. I'm not ready for a kid. I'm still a teenager. And begging my captor for a baby seems out of the question.
The room is dark. I'm still fully clothed. I touch the softness of my stomach and try to imagine carrying a person inside of me. Pregnant women always seem sort of tired and hungry. They run to the bathroom constantly. But all of it is worth it for the end result.
I can't recognize myself right now. A week ago, if someone had asked me if I'd have Iacopo's kid, I would've laughed in his or her face.
But for some reason, the idea fills me with warmth. I don’t understand why I feel this way, but one thing is clear: I need to talk to Iacopo.
Chapter Ten
Startled
Kelly
I’m still clothed, so I sneak out into the hallway. The house is absolutely silent and dark. It’s kind of giving me the creeps. This house must be sort of old, because I can hear creaks.
I walk as quietly as I can towards Iacopo’s bedroom. I raise my fist to knock, but then I realize that the door is open. I push it open a little wider.
Inside, there’s a guy standing next to the bed, his silhouette showing up with the bright moon.
“Iacopo!” I say. “I want to talk.”
Everything that happens right then is a flurry of movement. I thought that there were just pillows on the bed, but instead there’s someone coming up from the bed to tackle the guy standing by the window.
I hear the fight rather than see it, because it’s on the ground on the other side of the bed. I fumble for the light switch, but I have no idea where it is. I’ve never been in Iacopo’s room before. A sickening sound louder than anything I’ve heard before fills the room. It sounds like a bone broke.
Then the activity stops.
“Kelly, could you come here, please?” Iacopo’s voice is even and calm, as if he didn’t just wrestle some random guy lurking in his bedroom.
“What do you need me to do?” The guy is on the ground and still. So still.
“Keep a foot on his back while I check to see if he’s alive.”
My stomach threatens to revolt, but I put a foot on his back. Iacopo reaches for the guy’s throat.
“No pulse.” Iacopo leans in and puts his ear next to the guy’s mouth. “No breath. He’s done.”
I really think I’m going to throw up right now. Sure, I knew that my dad and Uncle Iacopo didn’t have lily-white hands, but nobody had ever been killed in front of me before.
“I’m going to turn on the lights now.” Iacopo is walking over to the door.
And then the room
is full of eye-searing light.
“Ugh!” It’s like dawn but worse.
“Sorry.” Even though Iacopo doesn’t seem particularly repentant, I let it slide.
There’s a guy with light brown skin under me. His head is twisted at an unnatural angle.
“I snapped his neck,” Iacopo says when he sees me staring. “It was the best I could do on short notice. If I’d had a few seconds, I would have grabbed my gun. Thank you for warning me.”
I don’t know what to say. I’ve apparently just saved Iacopo’s life, even though all I wanted to do was talk. And I’ve just watched a man killed in front of me.
“Hey,” Iacopo says very softly. His eyes are on my face. “We’re going to walk down to the kitchen. You’re going to drink something.”
He puts his arm around me, his hand resting on my waist. And then we’re going downstairs to the kitchen. Once we’re there, he pulls open the refrigerator door and brings out a big jug of orange juice.
“You need some sugar for the shock,” he says. He pours us two glasses of juice. I drink mine even though it tastes too sour. The unpleasant tartness of the juice tells me that I really am awake. I pinch my wrist.
“You’re awake,” Iacopo says.
I stare at the small mark on my skin that’s rapidly fading. I really just watched Iacopo murder someone. Yes, that someone was an assassin, but holy shit.
Chapter Eleven
Late Night
Iacopo
“Who was that?” Kelly’s hands are still shaking, even after I’ve given her orange juice.
I sigh. “Did you know that I’m going through a custody dispute?”
She nods. “My dad hated your ex-wife. He said that even though she was a mafia princess, she only married you for the alliance and didn’t love you.”
“Succinct,” I say.
“I remember when your daughter was born,” Kelly says, her voice wistful. “She was so small. How old is she now?”
“A year. She’s walking, not very steadily, and she babbles.” Talking about my daughter hurts. She’s a reminder of the failure of my first marriage, but I wouldn’t trade Lucia for anything.
“What does your baby have to do with an assassin in your bedroom?”
“I have a lot of enemies,” I say.
“And?”
“Ariana is still a part of my life.”
“You think that your ex-wife sent someone to kill you? That’s crazy. No way.”
“She doesn’t want to share our daughter,” I sigh. “Ariana isn’t the most stable parent. Or person.”
“Killing her ex-husband seems extreme, though. You guys have been divorced since right after the baby was born. She’s had almost a year to get over it.”
“It’s not.” Her face shows complete confusion. It’s like she can’t imagine why Ariana would kill me.
“It’s a power play as well as a grab for our daughter. She wants to take over everything that we control, both families.”
“Oh,” Kelly says. “So it’s not about your baby?”
“It’s not really about my daughter. Ariana has a few addictions and doesn’t really care about Lucia. Ariana isn’t an attentive parent, but she cried in court and the judge gave her primary custody.”
“How much time do you get?”
“Every other weekend. My lawyer was an asshole.” I clear my throat. “But enough about me. Do you think you’re okay?”
“Someone just tried to kill you. You’re asking if I’m okay?”
“It’s not the first time. And I just killed someone in front of you.”
Kelly looks down into her glass, one finger playing with a drop of condensation.
“I think I’ll be okay,” she says finally.
Chapter Twelve
Unfulfilled
Kelly
My mind is still trying to process everything that just happened. I stopped an assassin. Then I watched Iacopo murder him.
I hadn’t known details about the baby. Lucia looks a lot like her dad. They have the same hair. The same eyes. Her mouth is her mom’s though, and her little tiny nose will grow into something bigger.
I keep playing with the condensation on my glass of orange juice. Uncle Iacopo was a benevolent Santa Claus. He didn’t have problems.
This version of Iacopo is way more open about everything that has gone wrong for him lately. I didn’t pay attention to Ariana. She didn’t spend much time with Iacopo. I don’t know if she ever came over to our house. I only saw her once in a while.
“I should go back to bed,” I say. The pain on Iacopo’s face is hurting me.
I act on impulse and move forward to hug him. His body is stiff.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re sad,” I whisper against his ear. “And it’s not fair.”
His body turns towards me. Then he’s lifting me onto the countertop and pushing his body between my legs. I can’t deny that feeling his hard body there feels good, but his head is resting right on my shoulder and boobs.
“Life isn’t about fairness.” He doesn’t say it in an angry way. He’s not correcting me. He’s just stating a fact. I can feel my chest get warm as he gently rubs his face against me. All I wanted to do is hug him, but I’m getting really turned on. My core is heating up right now. I’m so embarrassed.
“Life isn’t always fair,” I say, agreeing. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t reach for what you deserve.”
His head comes up. He’s staring me right in my eyes. His pupils are huge, dilated, the black eating up everything.
His mouth touches mine. I’d think that he’d be hungry right now, but it’s soft. He’s worshiping my mouth. His hands are on my back, pulling me close, stroking the curve of my hip to my waist and then back again.
“You’re sweet,” he sighs. And he kisses me again, like my lips are made of candy that he shouldn’t be eating.
I shouldn’t be kissing him back, but I am. My own hands are on his shoulders, pulling him close as he kisses me and makes my mind go fuzzy.
I don’t know how long we were there, kissing like teenagers who didn’t know what to do in bed. I’m getting a little thirsty, but I don’t want to stop.
Then he pulls away first. I’m panting hard. My nipples are almost poking holes in my shirt.
“That went…further than I expected.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I should go back to sleep.”
“I’ll stay up and watch out for assassins.”
He gives me a half grin. “Go to bed. That’s an order. Tomorrow, I’ll talk to the security team about what exactly happened tonight.”
He walks out of the kitchen. I feel like I’m being torn into two pieces.
Part of me, the sane part, just wants to keep it together for long enough to figure out a way to escape my situation.
The crazy part wants to stay with Iacopo forever. Heal his wounds. Be his woman. Take care of Lucia, his baby daughter.
I go back to my room. When my head hits the pillow, I imagine that we finished what we started.
His mouth breaks away from mine and kisses a trail down my neck. Then he’s yanking my shirt off.
“Your tits are perfect,” he says. He’s biting the soft skin. Then my bra is being taken off of me. I’m topless and on top of the kitchen counter.
I reach forward, way more bold than I’ve ever been, and undo his pants, pushing them down. His cock is hard and heavy between us. I smear his pre-come around before I begin to give him a hand job.
I wouldn’t have believed it, but I love giving him a hand job. The look on his face, the way that his mouth is opening, the backward tilt of his head. He’s shaking, and it’s all because of me.
With a groan, he spurts into my lap, which is still clothed. I don’t mind that he’s ruining my clothes, though.
I suck some of his come off of my hand.
“My turn.”
He’s finally pulling my clothes off. Now I’m naked in front of him.
He parts me with his hands so that my thighs are spread wide, wider than they’ve ever been. Then his tongue invades me while his nose hits my clit. I feel like the entire world is spinning around me. My mouth is open while I pant hard.
Then he pinches my clit. All bets are off. I yelp as I fall over the edge, quivering as he continues to push his tongue inside of me.
“You taste so good,” he says as he gets to his feet. “I want to eat you every day for the rest of my life.”
I open my eyes in my dark bedroom. I’m alone. Right now, I’m wishing that I had followed Iacopo when he went upstairs.
Chapter Thirteen
Bang
Kelly
The next morning, I wake up when I hear a huge bang.
I throw on a dress and head downstairs. Iacopo is talking to a lot of really tall guys wearing black shirts. I think that they’re his security team.
When they’re done talking, I walk up to Iacopo. “What’s going on?”
“Ariana,” he says.
“What is she doing?”
“After sending that assassin last night, she doesn’t want to stop.”
“Can’t you call the police or something?” Then I realize how dumb of a question that is.
“Why does she want to murder you so badly? Most people would regroup after failing once.”
“Ariana isn’t most people. She was raised to always go for what she wanted.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
“Unless what she wants is to murder me.”
“How does she think that killing you will impact Lucia?”
“She doesn’t think that growing up without a father will hurt her, apparently.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Yeah, my dad may not be the best person in the world, but I still loved him. “I know what it’s like to grow up without one of your parents. Ariana is crazy.”