Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“I’ll help,” I tell Salli.
Not only do I have nothing better to do, but I need to get close to Salli because she might as well be my only chance of escape. If I become friends with her, surely she’ll find a way to get me out of here. I know I shouldn’t bet too much on it considering she’s so loyal to Jasper, but I can at least milk her for information.
“So, how did you learn English?”
“I lived in the States when the late Mr. Vitallio was alive.” She makes a cross and murmurs words in Italian which I assume are prayers.
“Were you there when...you know…”
“No, but my husband was.” A sad gleam covers her face. “Costa men killed him and everyone else in cold blood.”
My heart aches for her loss and I caress her hand. I doubt Salli knows who I am or she wouldn’t be talking to me right now.
A small boy with dark hair trots inside, followed by a silver kitten. “Nonna!”
She crouches in front of him to clean the dirt from his clothes, telling him soft words in Italian. I smile at him and he hides behind her big skirt, peeking at me with curious, huge eyes.
“This is Francesco, my grandchild.” She tells me. “He’s just shy.”
“It’s okay.” I take a piece of ham and offer it to the kitten, my heart aching with how much I miss Mrs. Hudson and Mr. Bingley. I know Dinah and Katya won’t leave them unfed, but I’ve been away for some time. If my friends filed a missing person report and couldn’t find me, maybe they gave the cats up to a shelter.
My heart squeezes. Mr. Bingly is too picky and wouldn’t survive in a shelter.
Damn Jasper. If he kidnapped me, couldn’t he bring the cats, too?
Speak of the devil. Literally.
I lift my eyes just to meet Jasper’s blue ones. He’s wearing a suit without a tie. The rugged look with his styled hair makes me swallow.
He’s so mouthwatering, it’s unfair.
It’s all because of the weird ways he’s touching me, I swear. If he weren’t confusing me with all these feelings, I wouldn’t be looking at him like this.
I wouldn’t want to jump into his arms and kiss him or something.
He’s my captor. My tormentor. Not someone I should jump into his arms and kiss him.
And yet, as he stands there with a hand in his pants and his gaze following my every movement like a hawk, I lean more forward so he’ll get a better look at the cleavage peeking from the opening of my dress.
His eyes darken, and I pretend to only focus on petting the kitty as she nuzzles into my hand.
Salli’s grandson joins me, crouching beside me and taking turns caressing the kitten.
Jasper speaks to Salli in Italian. While I don’t fully understand what they’re talking about, it seems to be about food, so it’s probably about tonight’s dinner.
The whole time, his attention keeps filtering back to me and it’s hard to pretend he doesn’t exist when I’m doing everything I can to not clench my thighs.
Before he leaves, Jasper leans over to ruffle Francesco’s hair then he whispers to me, “Stop tempting me before I fuck you right here right now.”
“I-I wasn’t,” I murmur back, making sure Salli doesn’t hear.
“Yes, you were. You want me as much as I want you, pet, you just don’t want to admit it.” He leans over and kisses my temple with soft lips. “Be good.”
And then, he’s out, leaving me a mess on the floor.
The worst part is that another thought keeps swirling in my brain. I want to be good for him. I want him to come back tonight and hug me to sleep.
And that can’t go on.
I really need to get the fuck out of here before I stop seeing Jasper as my captor and more as someone else.
7
Jasper
The number of people who show up to the meeting is beyond anything I expected.
Men ranging from their late teens to their sixties stand in the grand dining hall that Salli has stuffed with Southern Italian dishes and a copious amount of wine from the cellar.
Enzo and I are at the head of the table, watching the people who answered his calls — or rather, mine.
Guards stand outside as additional security to the meeting.
When I was with the Costas, I avoided such meetings for a reason. They’re business and boring, and I had no interest in those. Killing made more sense than any political antics.
But now, business needs to be done.
These men look up to me — the last Vitallio around here. When Nonno and Padre were alive, they were their godfathers, the reason for their livelihood, and the Costas took that away from them.
Now, they’re searching for a leader, someone to give them hope, power, and more importantly, the life that was snatched from between their fingers.