My head was pounding. I groaned.
“Ah, you’re waking up.”
Blinking, I squinted at the light. I was back in the bedroom, sprawled on the bed. A blond-haired young man was perched on the edge of the bed. His accent was unmistakably American.
“Who are you?” I managed to croak out.
He flashed a smile. “I’m Andrew. I’m a doctor.”
My gaze drifted to the foot of the bed where Vincent stood, arms crossed.
“My head hurts,” I whined.
Andrew nodded. “That’s common when you’ve had a hard knock on the head.”
“He was going to shoot me!” I hissed.
Andrew glanced at Vincent, who just rolled his eyes and shook his head. Then he leaned in closer to me. “If Vincent wanted to shoot you, he would have.” He smirked.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “He kidnapped me!” I hissed, shocked that another American was sitting there, fully aware of who Vincent was and what he had done.
Andrew chuckled. “I don’t doubt it.”
He stood up and walked over to Vincent.
“She might have a mild concussion. She’ll have a headache for a bit. Make sure she rests and drinks a lot of fluids—she’s a bit dehydrated.”
He handed Vincent a small bottle of tablets.
“Painkillers, if she needs them.”
Andrew gave me a quick smile.
“Try to rest, Miss Ryan. I’ll check on you in a couple of days.”
I sighed and closed my eyes. The bedroom door closed, but I knew he was still in the room. Vincent, that is.
How could I be sure he wouldn’t shoot me? This whole mess wasn’t about me. It was about my dad and Uncle Daniel. If he hated them that much, why would he keep me alive?
What hurt the most was that a fellow American didn’t see anything wrong with me being ripped away from my home and family.
I felt the bed dip, so I turned my head away.
His hand rested on my thigh. I flinched, but he ignored it, his thumb gently stroking my skin.
I turned my head to look at him, tears welling up in my eyes. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me?” I whispered, my voice breaking.
His thumb brushed my cheek, wiping away a stray tear.
“I didn’t...you fell,” he said.
I frowned. “You...you pointed a gun at me, at my head. I thought you were going to shoot me.” My voice was getting shrill.
“But I didn’t, did I?” he replied, his voice steady. Soothing, even.
I sighed and closed my eyes.
If I was hoping for an apology, I was going to be disappointed.
My eyes snapped open when I heard a knock at the door.
“Come,” he called out sharply.
The door opened to reveal a young girl dressed like the girls in the kitchen. She carried a tray which she placed on a small table.
She bowed and left the room.
“Why does everyone bow to you?” I asked, my brow furrowed.
He smirked. “It’s a sign of respect, something you seem to struggle with. Now sit up. You need to eat.”
I groaned. “Can’t I have one of those?” I pointed at the bottle of tablets in his hand as I struggled to sit up. The slight movement made my head throb.
“Once you’ve eaten something, I’ll give you one of these.” He shook the bottle for emphasis.
I brought my hands to my head. “You’ll keep me in pain unless I do what you want.”
Vincent chuckled. “No, that will only happen if I have to punish you. The bottle clearly states they should be taken with food.”
I felt my face heat up, slightly embarrassed and worried I might have given him an idea.
“Open,” he ordered.
I looked up to see him holding a spoon. It was filled with eggs.
“I can feed myself,” I protested.
He rolled his eyes. “You didn’t do a very good job of that this morning, gattina!”
I sighed and opened my mouth. I knew he wouldn’t back down, and I really needed that painkiller.
He fed me the rest of the scrambled eggs. They were surprisingly good, but then again, anything would be after not eating for three days.
Vincent opened the bottle of pills, then took my hand. He tapped the bottle until a pill fell into my palm. Then he handed me a glass of water. I popped the pill in my mouth and took a sip.
Vincent chuckled. “You’re not worried about me poisoning you then?”
I stared at him, horrified. Would he?
He laughed again. “Don’t worry, gattina, I wouldn’t waste good food on you if I was going to kill you.”
He took the glass from my hand. “Now lie down.”
I didn’t argue. The pain in my head was already starting to fade, but I felt a bit dizzy.
I frowned. “Why do you hate them so much? My dad and Uncle Daniel?”
His face darkened. I’d said the wrong thing again. Last time he’d pointed a gun at me.
“You might as well drop the uncle. We both know he’s not your real uncle. As for your father…well, he has a loose tongue, which needs to be silenced.”
I gasped as my heart pounded in my chest. I realized now, the FBI, my kidnapping, him. They were all connected.
“He was on your payroll, wasn’t he? That’s the reason he got arrested. That’s why you’ve got me here. To ensure he keeps his mouth shut?”
Vincent rose from his seat. “You need to get some sleep,” he said, moving away from the bed.
I propped myself up into a sitting position. “What if he spills the beans? Are you going to kill me?” I asked, my voice trembling.
Vincent spun around and approached the bed.
I recoiled. I fought back the nausea that was threatening to surge up my throat.
He perched on the edge of the bed—his hand tenderly caressed my face. “No, gattina, I won’t kill you. It’s enough that your father believes I might. Plus”—he raised my hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss—“I kind of enjoy your company.”
I could feel my cheeks flushing.
“Now lie down and rest,” he ordered.
I quickly reclined. This time he didn’t leave, he just sat there, watching me.
My mind was buzzing with questions. Why was my dad working for the Mafia? How was Uncle Daniel...I mean, Daniel, mixed up in all this? Surely people would be searching for me? Wouldn’t my dad tell them I’d been abducted?
Vincent placed his hand on my head and gently rubbed my forehead with his thumb.
I shut my eyes. I was already drowsy, but his soothing touch made me feel peaceful. Comfortable even. Why was that?
Then I heard him murmur something. I didn’t catch what he said, but whenever he spoke in that tone, I’d feel a flutter in my stomach, and my cheeks would warm up.
Then I felt his breath on my face as his lips lightly grazed mine.
I opened my eyes and touched my lips with my fingers.
Vincent looked at me and smiled. “Don’t look so shocked, gattina. Those lips have been crying out to be kissed.”
I just stared at him, unable to respond. I licked my lips.
Vincent laughed. “Did I just take your first kiss, piccolo?”
I nodded. Despite the boys at school chasing after me, I never really had any interest in them. Outside of school, I never encountered any boys. I was always with my dad.
Vincent licked his lips and grinned. “Close your eyes now, and rest.”
I did, hoping he would kiss me again, but he didn’t. So I drifted off to sleep, feeling a tad let down.
