by Bella King
“How do you like your pasta? Al-dente, or are you one of those people who enjoys boiling their noodles until they’re a little more than mush?” Caleb asked, taking the car onto a side street and speeding down it with little regard for the cars parked on either side of the road. He could have easily sideswiped one of them and sent us into a fatal crash, but we came out on the other end alive and in one piece.
“Pasta? Um, I guess cooked normally,” I replied, unable to concentrate when I was within inches of being ripped apart by twisted metal in a crash.
“Normality isn’t a valid preparation, but I’m going to assume you mean al-dente. I can’t stand it any other way,” Caleb said, slowing the car down.
I looked out the window. We were rolling up to a restaurant that looked like it would cost a fortune just for a glass of water. The building was decorated in stained glass and gold trim, unmissable from the street.
“This is my favorite place here. I normally don’t take guests, but you’re an exception,” Caleb said, stopping the car on the curb in front of the entrance.
I man hopped out of the entrance the moment Caleb’s car turned off, rushing to open my door. He was clearly the valet, dressed in a suit with a splash of red on his vest and a silver nametag pinned to his breast pocket.
I climbed out of the car as he opened the door. I wanted to say something to him but realized that everyone here was clearly working for Caleb. How else was he able to eat here without the feds crawling all over the building?
“Thank you,” was all I said as I stepped out of the car, leaving the knife on my seat. I didn’t have anywhere to put it, and it would probably cause a stir if I walked into the restaurant holding it in my hand.
Caleb climbed out of the driver’s side, tossing the key fob to the valet and snapping his fingers. “Let’s go. I’m starved,” he said, holding his elbow out for me to hook my arm around. I took it, and together we walked across the cobblestone sidewalk to the entrance, gliding up the stairs and entering the restaurant.
Chapter 5
Wine keeps you young.
There were other people inside, which surprised me. I assumed we would be going to some private location, alone and away from the general public. I could scream here and catch everyone’s attention, but would that really help me at all?
I was in a play, or something. Maybe all these people were paid actors, but they looked genuine. There was a man shaking his finger at his teenage son, who had managed to spill an entire tray of sauce on himself. At another table, a woman gave her husband a peck on the cheek before excusing herself to the restroom. There was no way this was fake.
A table was already reserved for us when we arrived. There was a gold nameplate with Mr. and Mrs. Anthony engraved on it. Was that his real last name? Nobody in the department seemed to know what it actually was, but Anthony was never in the pool for consideration.
Caleb led me to the table, but nobody raised their eyes to us. Nobody looked at me worriedly, like they knew something was wrong with this whole situation. Nobody suspected that I was a prisoner, here only because Caleb decided that I should be, not because I had decided to join him on a journey overseas on my own initiative.
In another universe, I would have. Had a man as handsome and well-dressed as he, asked me to join him on a flight across the world, I would have agreed in an instant. I would have fallen in love with him over one too many glasses of thousand-dollar red wine, and we would have been married on a boat in the romantic canals that laced the city.
I could even picture myself wearing this same dress, gazing into Caleb’s ice-blue eyes as I said my vows to him, meaning every word that slipped through my red lips and danced into his ears. It would be a fantasy, but instead, it was a nightmare.
Caleb broke the embrace of our arms to pull out a chair for me. It was draped with white lace and matched my dress closely that I wasn’t entirely sure that my dress hadn’t been cut from the same lace.
I sat down on the plush seat, looking through my peripheral vision to see if anyone had noticed us. Nobody looked over. Nobody cared.
“It’s nice to have someone to dine with,” Caleb said as he sat down across from me. “I really don’t date much. I don’t have the time.”
“I’m not much for dates either,” I said.
“I know, which is why I think we’ll get along,” he replied, shaking out the folded napkin standing on the table beside an intimidating set of forks, spoons, and knives.
“Why did you kidnap me?” I asked bluntly, loud enough for someone to hear.
Caleb looked amused by my antics, leaning back in his chair and holding up a hand as if to show me how little anyone here cared about what I was saying. “Kalila,” he said softly, “We are in the heart of Italy, not in some tourist zone for sad little Americans who only speak English. Not a single person here can understand you.”
I sunk down in my chair, blushing from embarrassment. I felt stupid, and a little sick to my stomach about this whole thing. My situation was as bizarre as it was hopeless.
“Besides,” Caleb continued, “I’m not a wanted man here. I’m just a rich tourist who speaks their mother tongue for all they care. They respect me. None of your police friends are going to come rushing through the door to save the day.”
I nervously adjusted my perfectly arranged silverware on the table while my mind raced. There had to be a way out of this without getting myself killed, but I knew Caleb wasn’t letting on the entire story to me. He wanted me to think I was sitting in a restaurant casually with him and a bunch of random Italians. There was no way that was all there was to it. He had a bigger picture than he was letting on.
“So,” I challenged, “What’s stopping me from walking out that door right now?”
“Nothing,” Caleb answered, blinking a few times at me like all of this was obvious.
“I think we both know that’s not true,” I said, using some of the basic interrogation tactics I had been taught at the police academy.
Caleb chuckled, seeing right through my weak attempt to throw him off. “You’re free to go, darling,” he said, waving a hand in the air.
“I don’t have any ID. I have no money,” I replied.
“That sounds like your problem, not mine,” Caleb said.
“Nobody is going to snipe me from a building the second I step outside?” I asked doubtfully.
Caleb shrugged. “I don’t see why they would. You’re not a mafia boss, like I am. Do you know how many people have been brought to ruin under my rule? Do you know how many men bath in pure wealth, their cocks never without a women’s warmth at night because of what I have gifted them? You’re not the one who should be worried about an assassination attempt. That would be me.”
“But you’re not,” I said, noting his calmness throughout our entire encounter.
“I never am,” Caleb replied, a sparkle in his eye.
A waiter came to the table, speaking in Italian to Caleb as he passed the menus to us. The entire thing was in Italian, as was to be expected, which meant I had no idea what to order. Even though I was traumatized by what was happening, I still wanted to eat. I probably hadn’t had food in a long time, if I really was all the way in Italy.
Caleb thanked the waiter and turned back to me. “The penne a la vodka is good,” he said, tapping on his menu and showing it to me. “Don’t worry, it’s pasta.”
I nodded. “Thank you,” I replied, my voice quiet. It was unsettling the way he could switch from talking about my kidnapping to choosing someone off the menu for me.
“You still haven’t told me why I’m here. Why haven’t you killed me?” I asked, raising the volume of my voice again, this time out of irritation and not to try to attract attention to myself.
Caleb frowned, the sparkle in his eyes distinguishing. “We’ll talk about that after lunch.” He seemed annoyed by my words, like I was pestering him about something that I should be patient for.
It wasn’t fair that he was trea
ting me like this. He had no right to be annoyed. I was the prisoner here! I crossed my arms and let out a huff, waiting for the waiter to return and take our order. I glared at Caleb when he finally did come around, and he ordered for both of us.
“You’re going to love the penne. They always cook it just right,” Caleb said, laying the napkin over his lap elegantly.
“I don’t see why you won’t just talk to me normally. If you’re going to kill me , just say it now so I don’t have to wait like this,” I snarled.
Caleb shook his head. “You’re cute, Kalila. I think that’s why I like you so much. I can’t stand women that have no spark. I’m surrounded by yes men all the time. Do you know what they tell me?” He asked, holding his hand up like it was a mouth. “Yes, yes, yes.”
This man was insane, but I should expect no less from someone who made a living selling unregistered firearms to lunatics and peddling drugs across state lines to addicts who don’t know any better.
“Is this it? You just want to take a pretty girl out on a date?” I questioned, watching his face closely for some sign of acknowledgment. I saw nothing. He would have made a phenomenal poker player.
“I think you’ll grow to like me,” Caleb answered. “But look. There is our food now,” he said, widening his eyes at the steaming plates approaching us.
I had to admit that I was distracted by the food. Once my appetite was satiated, I would return to my interrogation, but for now, I needed to eat. I had to get my energy up for whatever was to come. I still had no clue why he had brought me all the way to Italy with him.
The moment my plate came sliding down the table in front of me, I had a fork stabbing into the pasta, practically shoveling it into my open mouth. I followed each bite with a splash of water, wetting it enough to gulp it down while barely chewing.
The food was amazing, some of the best I had had in my life, but I was too hungry to properly enjoy it. Plus, I was sitting across from a mafia boss. It was hard to enjoy anything right now when my life could be over at the snap of his fingers.
“I told you it was good,” Caleb said, poking a fork into a nearly raw steak and bringing a knife to slice through the flesh cleanly.
I looked up at him as he lifted the bite to his mouth, putting his tongue out to catch the juice that dripped from the steak. He ate it slowly, savoring it as he chewed. I wished I could enjoy anything as much as he seemed to enjoy the meal he was eating.
While I shoveled the remainder of the pasta a la vodka into my mouth, Caleb took a second bite of his steak. “I can get you more, if you want,” he noted, glancing at my empty plate.
I patted my swollen belly. “No, I think that’s enough.”
Caleb chuckled. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to finish this steak. Then, we can talk about my plans for you. I ordered some dessert wine as well. That will be here soon.”
I watched as he took another bite of his steak, chewing it slowly. He didn’t attempt to talk for the rest of his meal, instead, enjoying it to the fullest while I plotted my escape.
Chapter 6
There is a lot more to marriage than people first assume.
I wouldn’t be able to run away from Caleb. Even though he assured me that nobody wanted to snipe me from the rooftops if I left, I didn’t believe him. Why should I? He was my kidnapper, not my date, as much as he wanted me to feel the exact opposite.
I suppose that sneaking out of this place might be difficult, but not impossible. Maybe I trip to the bathroom was warranted if I could escape from there. I was sure that Caleb had thought of everything, but I had to try. Maybe once I found out what he wanted from me I could make my escape attempt. I only have one chance at this, so I better make it good.
Caleb finished his food just as the wine came to the table. The timing of everything in this restaurant was perfect. The food was amazing, the atmosphere was pleasant, and even Caleb would have been the perfect date if I wasn’t his victim.
A chilled purple wine in a wide crystal glass was set before me like an ice cream Sunday. While the drinking age in the United States was still 21, I knew that in Italy it was only 16. Where the youth just more mature here, or was the US just insane to have it that high?
I lifted my glass, and Caleb lifted his in unison. “Cheers,” he said, taking a sip.
I tasted the cold purple liquid in the glass and was delighted to discover how sweet and flavorful it was, as though the grapes in it had been crushed locally just minutes ago. It wasn’t so sweet that it was like juice, but just enough to make it taste like dessert. I loved it.
“This is good,” I admitted, lifting the glass for another sip.
Caleb smirked. “I think you’re going to enjoy Italy. I have a house here that I would like you to come see. There’s a rose garden and everything.”
I was almost excited before I remembered why I was here. I was a captive, not a friend. I put down my glass and glared at Caleb, whose face never faltered under my stare. “Tell me why I’m here,” I demanded.
“It’s pretty simple, but I don’t expect you to love the idea at first. You might need to warm up to it a bit,” Caleb began, swirling his drink in its glass.
I leaned forward, propping my head in my hands and staring at him even more intensely. “Try me.”
“I’d like for us to get married,” Caleb said, dropping the bombshell so casually that I almost didn’t realize what he had just said.
“What?” I squeaked, then adjusted my posture so that my back was straight. The dress was tight on my stomach now, making it a bit uncomfortable to breathe.
“I’ve never been a big fan of the idea. Why get locked down when you can take anyone you want, never growing tired of having the same person, over and over again until you can’t even stand the sight of them. But then my father introduced me to something that changed my perspective entirely,” he explained.
“Hold on, you expect me to marry you?” I asked, still stuck on his initial statement.
“Yes, yes,” he said impatiently, “But not now. We have to fall in love first. I want it to seem more genuine. My father isn’t going to give me his estate if he knows I faked a marriage. It has to be real.”
I leaned back, shocked by what he was telling me. My mouth was ajar, and Caleb quickly continued to try and calm me down.
“I know what you’re thinking. Crazy, right? But listen, because there’s something in it for you too,” he said, holding up a finger. “I can give you me.”
My face contorted in disgust. “I don’t want you. I don’t want any of this. I want to go home,” I said, slamming a fist on the table.
Caleb laughed. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, your little police force is obsessed with me. Wouldn’t you like to give them the best present in the world?” He asked, gesturing with both hands to his chest.
“You?” I asked, confused.
“Well, the next best thing. Obviously, I’m not going to turn myself in, but once I receive my father’s estate, I don’t need this whole crazy black market business that I’ve been running for the past ten years. It’s tiring anyway. I’m not a bad guy. It’s just a job.”
I wondered if he was listening to himself. Not a bad guy? He was responsible for more crime than everyone else in the country combined, but I was still interested in what he was telling me. It sounded too good to be true.
“I know you think I’m a crook,” Caleb said with a shrug. “But that’s just not true. I just happen to have a difficult job. I’d like to quit, but I need your help.”
“Let me get this straight,” I said, trying to piece together the pile of nonsense he had just given me. “You want me to marry you so that you can get your father’s estate. Why do you need to marry me again?”
“My dad thinks I need a wife,” Caleb said, shrugging. “I already have maids that do all the cleaning for me. I don’t see the point.”
I laughed. “Okay, Caleb, there’s a lot more to being a wife than cleaning,” I said, shaking my head. He was
so out of touch that it was funny.
“Yeah? Well, you’re going to have to show me, because I still don’t see the point. All I know is that I think you’re going to be the best wife for me. It’s strange that you’re a cop, but I’m already over that. It’s a drop in the bucket, so to speak.”
“What if I say no?” I asked.
“I’m offering you the biggest bust in your whole career, Kalila. We’re talking about thousands behind bars, mountains of drugs off the streets, no more guns in the hands of criminals, and the biggest promotion you could possibly imagine. Plus, you’ll be married to the richest man in Italy,” he added, as though that would influence me in the slightest.
It all sounded way too good to be true, but Caleb looked honest. If he had wanted to kill me, he could have. Still, I didn’t want to be a part of this crazy mess he had gotten himself into. He could find another woman to marry. It shouldn’t be that hard.
“Why me?” I asked, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow at him.
“You don’t think I haven’t been watching you, darling? I know everything about you. I chose you, because you’re perfect. You might not see it yet, but you will.”
“I could walk out this door right now, and ruin your plans,” I snapped. “What made you think I would be fine with this?”
“Because,” Caleb said. “You want this bust. You want to be the one to get me. Why did you chase after me when your fellow officers told you not to get too close? I’ll tell you why. It’s because you want to be the best. Second place doesn’t satisfy you. See, Kalila, we’re not so different.”
He did know a lot about me. Not very many people could see the truth as to why I was so driven in the police force, going through training the second I was legally allowed to. Caleb knew me well, which was why he should have anticipated my next move. As it turned out, he didn’t know me as well as he thought he did.
I was driven to be the best, but not on anyone’s terms but my own. Caleb believed that his criminal empire would be enough to satisfy me, but only when I had him behind bars would I be satisfied. His empire was nothing with him.