You know, I always thought I would end up in a billionaire's mansion someday…
But I envisioned champagne toasts, lavish parties, and maybe even a romantic tryst with a handsome billionaire – not chloroform-induced naps, secret dungeons, and a side of attempted murder.
For a kid, I had a wild delusions really, hoping that someday I'd be sipping Dom Pérignon with a charming CEO on his private jet, laughing with a with entrepreneur on his luxury yacht in the Caribbean, or exchanging sweet nothings with a romantic philanthropist who'd sweep me off my feet, adorn me with roses and whisper that I'm the most beautiful woman in the world – I just never imagined that my Prince Charming would be cold-blooded killer with a penchant for designer decor.
I wake up the next morning, feeling like I've been put through a spin cycle. My head throbs and my mouth feels dry. When I move, I feel pain shoot through my bones and moan with the ache. My memories of the previous night are fuzzy. All I know now is that I am in a luxurious bedroom that looks like it belongs in a monarch's boudoir.
Where is this place?
I struggle to sit up from the queen-sized bed that fills the center of the lavishly decorated room, but the plush pillows behind me offer little support.
"Ow!" I wince in pain as I slump back down, my back aching. With a hand pressed against the cramp, my gaze wanders around the room. Clean. Lavish. Exquisite.
I glance down at myself and notice that I'm wearing a silk dress that I don't remember putting on. A faint scent of perfume follows up, wafting up from my skin and I realize that I've been bathed too. Someone has washed me, dressed me, and put me in this bed. A shiver runs down my spine as fragments of memories piece together from last night.
I try to sit up again, this time more slowly, and swing my legs over the side of the bed. My head spins, and I have to grab onto the bedpost to steady myself. As I wait for the dizziness to pass, I notice that my feet are bare, and my toenails are painted a deep red. A wave of unease suddenly washes over me as the realization sets in. Someone has even done my nails?
The door knob creaks and my heart sinks in that moment. A sense of impending doom washes over me as the door slowly swings open, and I crawl back into the plushies, hoping to disappear into it before the shadow forming at the doorway steps into the light.
As the figure moves forward and those broad shoulders come into sight, I realize with a jolt of fear that it's Alessandro. The man walks into the room with a calm precision, his eyes luckily not on me, as he gently closes the door behind him.
He doesn't seem to acknowledge that there is a second person in the room, but of course, there is no way he can't see me — especially since I'm just out there, flaunting myself in plain sight. The chances that it was this man who knocked me out last night, brought me to this room, bathed me, changed me, used perfume on me and painted my nails is very high.
This man KNOWS I'm here… yet, he doesn't act like he cares enough to acknowledge my presence as an intruder who's potentially deserving of death.
Alessandro just stands there, his tired eyes of silver-blue fixed boredly on some point beyond the bed I am sitting on, ignoring me entirely. His features seem almost otherworldly in the dim light, dull gaze brooding through long lashes, his jawline sharpening to a razor's edge as he tilts his head in quiet contemplation. I watch him run a hand through his long, dark hair, the gesture languid and unhurried, as he seems to either be thinking of something or plotting something. He's built to perfection, down to his toned pelvis that's visibly seen, given those grey sweatpants he's wearing hang slightly loose over his waistline.
Given the brute and violence I witnessed him commit just hours before, his serenity is unsettling.
I don't say a word, but he gets his resolve and falls into step. Alessandro's movements are fluid and deliberate as he glides across the room towards the direction he had been staring at and as he gets closer to the drawers beside the bed I'm sitting on, I instinctively scramble backward, trying to put some distance between us. Soon, he reaches the bedside table and sharply pulls open the drawer. I gasp slightly at his rough motion, his handling is so aggressive and brusque, as he yanks the compartment open to reveal a sleek black gun nestled elegantly among other luxurious linen.
"F—" I almost curse out loud, but force myself to keep my mouth the fuck shut.
For a moment, he simply stands there, his fingers caressing the weapon with an unnerving intimacy. Then, with a quiet precision, he extracts the gun from the drawer and begins to inspect it, his eyes narrowing as he checks the pistol.
The silence between us is oppressive, heavy with unresolved tension. I hold my breath, unsure of what he'll do next, as he stands there, gun in hand and his gaze, still studiously avoiding mine.
And without a word, he turns and walks out of the room.
I'm left shaken and horrified, but I have to leave this hell house. With a split-second decision to make a run for it, I scramble out of my bed and dash towards the door, flinging it open and revealing a grand staircase that curves downward like a ribbon. If I can just take the stairs one at a time, and quietly, I could get to anywhere I could find a vent and start plotting my escape all over again. So, with bare feet pounding against the cold tiles, I tip toe — praying to the Lord to help me this one last time.
One fleet of stairs down. Possibly ten thousand more to go. I reach the halfway point and look ahead of me. It's quiet here. A little dark. But I can do this. I can reach the end of this—
"Get back inside."
I freeze at the voice, my foot hovering over the next step. I had heard him speak once, but that deep baritone sunk deep into the pit of my memory so I knew who it was before I even turned around to confirm.
There Alessandro was, standing at the top of the stairs with his silver-bluefixed intently on me from that height. The gun is still clutched in his hand, although loosely, and for a moment, I wonder if he's going to swing it into grip and blow my brains out right from here.
"W-What—I— um— Who's there?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. I know it's Alessandro, but I hope for a confirmation that it's not. With all I've seen now, I'd rather die in the hands of his men.
But Alessandro doesn't respond, but I see his shadow still in the darkness. His chiselled and towering physique cuts a sharp silhouette in the dim light.
"Hello?" I nervously call out.
He still doesn't speak, but his footsteps echo through the darkness as he starts walking towards me. As he inches closer, I panic in my head and think of a way out of this situation, but I am stuck. Running is futile, and standing still is equally foolish. But before I can gather my thoughts, Alessandro is already towering over me, his hard bare chest at my eye level. I look up to witness the glory of this man who now has my fate in his hands, my pleading gaze tracing the contours of his features that illuminate in the dim light.
I wave nervously to him. "Hi."
And there's a gun to my head.
The man gave me no time to speak further and suddenly, he's already raised the gun and pointed it directly on my forehead. A surge of fear runs through me and I can't feel my heart pounding in my chest.
"Get. Back. Inside," Alessandro speaks with a threatening calm, his silver-blue glinting with a cold, hard light.
I stare up at Alessandro, my eyes locked on the gun pressed against my forehead as I wonder what in the world I would do in this situation.
This situation that Sarissa had put me in, all in the name of playing the role of Anabel Waverley.
All in the name of Anabel.
If I was this so-called badass character Sarissa wanted me to embody, then what next? In this scenario, with a gun pressed to her head by a dangerous Mafia Man, what would Anabel do?
That was all o needed to ask myself. I made a dangerous move.
With a sly smirk, I reached up and wrapped my hand around presses to my forehead. "Kinky." And with that, I traced the metal… and licked Alessandro Ferrari's rifle.