Page 39 of Taken By the Mafia King
The front door swung open, almost hitting Francesco in the back.
Mikey ran inside.
“You’re supposed to be guarding the gate,” I said.
“I tried to call. You were right. He came.” He doubled over to rest his hands on his knees, panting for breath. When he finally lifted his gaze to mine, his lips curled in a smile. “The girl’s dad is here.”
CHAPTER 31
SERA
I’d lost track of time.
I wasn’t sure what day it was when I woke from a restless, dreamless sleep the day after Killian kissed me in his office. My toes curled over the soft, creamy carpet as I got out of bed.
It was early enough that no one had come into my room with breakfast yet, so I padded into the bathroom for a scalding shower.
Pressing my hands to the dark tile, I closed my eyes as water beat down my neck and spine, my hair curling into thick, wet tendrils over my breasts.
I tried to get him out of my head. I thought of Emma, of my students, of my friends back home. I even thought of Jim, but the content and safe space he once took up in my mind felt hollow now. Instead, it had been encroached upon by the sharp, prickly, uneasy need I felt for my captor. Everything with Jim had felt easy, if a little slow. Killian was everything but easy. He burned me every time I got too close. Cut me with just a look. Made a fool out of me with his wicked tongue. And yet I wanted him.
Regardless of the desire eating at me from the inside, I still contemplated escape. I’d had several chances now. Francesco’sadmission of just how far I’d have to travel to find freedom was stuck in my head, playing over and over on repeat.
Eleven miles to Philadelphia, through the woods and God only knew what else.
I rested my forehead against the smooth, wet surface of the shower, closing my eyes. My fingers twitched and curled as I imagined my hands were pressed against Killian’s chest. I imagined the hot water as nothing more than his heated, all-consuming touch on my bare skin. I could picture him here, in front of me, naked and glistening with nothing but steam surrounding us as he pushed his body against mine and claimed me as his own.
Reaching down I slid my fingers through my aching center and shuddered.
My body lit up like a flame at the thought of him.
And a cool, icy chill racked my nerves at the thought of leaving him, if the opportunity ever arose.
I’d lost control of this situation. I’d been so willing to give up my body to Gabriele De Luca in order to survive.
Giving up my body to Killian was something born out of sheer, desperate need of a different kind, however.
My skin was beet red by the time I pulled myself out of the shower and slipped my arms through a robe. Steam billowed out behind me as I walked back into my room and paused as my toes hit the carpeted floor. I wasn’t alone.
“How is Tommaso?” I asked Olivia. She straightened her back, a smug look on her pretty face as she planted her hands on her hips. My hot skin shot up a degree in irritation. “Is he alive?”
“I’m great, thank you.” She chuckled with a roll of her eyes. “Thank you for asking, and you’re welcome for your breakfast.”
“Olivia,” I breathed, crossing the room to her side in four quick steps. “I’m serious. How is he?”
“Alive and well,” she said, taking the cloche off a plate of eggs, ham, and fruit. “Whereas you look like hell, Sera. You’ve lost weight.” Her eyes swept up and down the length of me, drowning in my silk robe. “Maybe you shouldn’t have said no every time you were offered food, hmm?”
“I haven’t been hungry for weeks,” I hissed, popping a piece of ham into my mouth while holding her gaze. “Not while everyone seems to be killing each other and getting hurt overme.”
“Over you?” She laughed. “Oh, Sera. Have some coffee. You’ve lost your mind.”
She wasn’t entirely wrong.
“I just don’t understand why I’m being kept here.” Trying to riddle that question out felt like banging my head on a brick wall over and over again. I kept asking it, and everyone kept sidestepping it. That, or they treated me like I was asking them if the sun came up every day.
“Sera.” She rolled her eyes again. “Do I need to remind you who your father is?”
I blanched and poured myself a cup of coffee, heavy on the cream and sugar. She’d given me an implication, not an answer. Obviously I knew who my father was. And obviously my last name and family legacy were why I was here. I wanted the nitty gritty details behind the why. Eventually, someone would answer me. I had to believe that. Otherwise all that head banging on the wall would render me senseless and I’d become completely useless, and a much less interesting play thing to Killian.
