14. Aria

Ifind a parking spot, not sure what sort of lot it is. Once I'm aboard the flight, I'll message Luca and tell him where the car is. As I exit the car, I'm apprehensive. I've felt this for nearly the entire drive. I keep expecting Luca or one of his men to stop me. So far, no one has, but I'm not free yet.

Along with my apprehension is doubt in my judgment. I shouldn't have been so impulsive to come to Italy. At the same time, am I being impulsive to leave without talking to Luca? He said I had a choice. I could ask him about that woman in the picture.

I pick up the pace to the terminal knowing that Luca has power over me. His gentle way and soft touches seduce me into compliance, manipulate me into accepting situations I wouldn't normally accept. I need to leave now, before we're married. Before the Mafia world sees me as his property.

I'm just about to the road that runs in front of the terminal when a man comes toward me, stumbles, and crashes into me. He knocks me off balance, and I fall to the pavement.

"Scusa," he says, reaching down to help me up. He continues talking in Italian that I don't understand.

I open my mouth to tell him it's okay when I feel a pinch in my neck. My hand immediately presses against it as I look at him.

"Ti rilassi. Relax."

My world tilts again, but this time it's from the inside, not from being knocked down. I try to pull away, but he holds me, speaking in words I don't understand.

"Luca said I could go." I'm not sure if the words actually make it out of my mouth. My mouth feels like it has cotton in it, unable to form coherent words or scream. Why is Luca doing this? Why this way?

The man tugs me back to the garage. Inside, I'm panicking, but I can't get my body to fight.

We reach a car, and he opens the back door and pushes me in. He then slams the door and climbs in the front seat. There's another man in the driver's seat and they're talking. I grope around, but it's like my brain and my body can't coordinate. A fog is descending on me, and as much as I try to fight it, I can't. Moments later, everything goes dark.

I wake.My first sensation is the pounding in my head. I go to press my fingers to my temple, but my hand jerks to a stop from restraints. I open my eyes and find myself on a bed, my hands cuffed to the headboard. The stench in the room nearly makes me vomit.

I tug at my restraints knowing I need to get free. My wrists sting and burn from the effort. I yell out, and the door flies open. I flinch, and instinct has me trying to recoil from the three men entering.

One of the men stands at the end of the bed. He speaks in Italian. I have no clue what he's saying, but the tone and leering tell me it's not good. He grabs my ankles, trying to force my legs apart.

"Stop!" I kick at him, one of my efforts hitting him in the chin.

He jerks back, violence shining in his eyes. He yells at me, slapping me against the face and spitting on me. "La puttana di Luca."

I recognize that word. Whore. He's calling me Luca's whore. So these aren't Luca's men.

He pulls a phone out, continuing to speak in words that aren't likely complementary. Holding his phone at me, he snaps a picture.

"Andiamo," he says to the men, and they all leave.

Once they're gone, I struggle to get free, but it's no use. I give in, sagging into the dirty mattress. I wonder what sort of germs I'm going to catch but then decide whatever is lurking in the mattress is probably less lethal than the men who've kidnapped me.

Why did I come here? Niko is right, I'm immature. I have my head in the clouds. But I'd been so sure Luca loved me, or at least cared about me. Unable to stop the tears, I cry until exhaustion brings on a fitful sleep.

I wake,and it takes a moment to orient myself. This isn't a dream. I've been kidnapped and am being held by a man who is likely Luca's enemy and will kill me. I shirk away from him, hoping he doesn't try to touch me again.

"Who are you?" he asks in English.

I consider my answer carefully. Do I say I'm Luca's fiancée? Probably not. That might make things worse for me. Does he know my brother? Would knowing I'm a Leone be helpful or a hindrance?

He waves a gun. "Do you speak English? Who are you?"

"Aria Leone."

He doesn't react, making me think he doesn't know my brother.

"Where are you from? Why are you here?"

"New York." I don't answer the latter question. What can I say? I'm here because I'm na?ve and stupid to believe in love and happily ever after.

He tilts his head. "Don Conte brought a plaything home from his visit to New York?"

I want to deny it, but I'm convinced that Luca doesn't see this relationship like I do. I'm either just a toy or a pawn to get back at my brother for something.

"You dance too?" His eyes rake down my body, sending a shiver of fear and disgust through me.

"I'm Don Niko Leone's sister." In hindsight, perhaps I shouldn"t have admitted that.

He stares at me for a long moment. Then he shrugs and pulls out his phone. After poking at it, he puts it up to his ear. "How much do you think Don Conte thinks you're worth?"

"It doesn't matter what I'm worth. You take something from a Don, they'll hunt you down and kill you."

He laughs. "And when he does, I'll kill him and take over his Family."

So this man is from a rival Family?

He puts the phone in his pocket. "Don Conte doesn't seem too interested in you anymore. Of course, he has more than one toy." He sighs, scraping his hand over his face in what I suspect is fatigue. "I really thought you'd be more useful to me."

He stands and moves to the edge of the bed. Panic rips through me. Is he going to kill me or assault me? Maybe both.