Chapter 2 - Olivia

Gazing with starry eyes at the man seated across from me, I prop my chin in my palm.

He lifts dark eyes from the top of the menu, lips curling as he chuckles lowly. “What is it, signorina ?” Luca, my date, asks with a brooding, thick Italian accent.

Momentarily dazed, I have to remind myself not to go stumbling down a road I won’t be able to come back from, like falling for the handsome Italian man, with his swooning charms and distinctly honeyed voice.

It’s always so much easier in the books and movies, to fall for the hot bad boy despite the things he does for a living. I have to bear in mind that doing horrible things in the real world isn’t as glamorous as it’s made out to be in the movies.

Still, I find myself gravitating toward his charms, smiling shyly at his brazen taunts and blushing when he brushes his fingertips across my arms. I’ve relegated it to the fact that I’m still very much a virgin.

Painfully so. At the ripe age of twenty-seven, I’ve hardly even been kissed. Unless the chaotic head-bump with Alex in high school during a dare counts for something. Our lips never met, but it was the thought that counts.

Right?

Either way, I wonder how Luca’s lips might have felt if I’d allowed him to kiss mine. Despite my better judgment, the soft, pouty cushions that always appear moist seem to be beckoning me to cross that bridge.

After all, I’m only a virgin because I’d been spending way too much time focusing on my career. One that entails that I seduce the Italian Mafia boss to gather information needed to put him behind bars.

I can’t help but salivate at the natural charms he exudes. If he believes I’m falling in love with him, it’s an added advantage. Though I’m too starved for human touch for this to be an appropriate job description, I had to seize the opportunity to go undercover to put this man behind bars.

Still, it helps that I’m even remotely disarmed by his charms. He believes I’m just a painter, who would love to paint his naked form on my canvas.

“ Signorina… ? ” he repeats, this time leaving his menu on the side on reaching out for my hand. When the warmth of his fingers envelops mine, a shiver of awareness courses through me. But it’s not one I welcome at all. It’s more like a warning sign that reminds me that this man is no good.

Of course, he isn’t. That’s why I’m here, in a fancy restaurant in Las Vegas, after he’d flown me down from California, citing that he could no longer stay away from me. It was a win for the FBI, and I’d been congratulated for winning over the Italian Mafia boss.

I just have to keep reminding myself that his intensely penetrating dark eyes and salacious smile are just powers of manipulation he wields as the Devil himself. My life’s purpose had become putting men like him behind bars, and it can’t change now. I’m not willing to turn into the Bonnie to his Clyde.

There is justice that needs to be served. In a world full of greed and terror, it’s men like him who cause chaos and destruction. He has to be stopped.

“Nothing’s wrong, Luca…” I drawl, deliberately drawing out my voice as I brush my manicured fingertips across his knuckles. When his smile becomes toothed, it’s almost as if a flash of lightning crosses his eyes like a bolt of menace.

I have to hide the urge to gulp down the bile rising in my throat. So I force my lips into a smile and reach for the champagne, taking a sip big enough to wash down the acrid bile. When I’m able to think clearly again, he turns in his seat, sending a potent whiff of his sandalwood cologne through the air. It fazes me only momentarily, long enough to regain my composure, when the waiter comes over and Luca orders more champagne.

“So, Signorina… ” he begins to purr when the waiter’s left again. “I am glad you’ve joined me tonight. We will be staying at The Bellagio.” He reaches for my hand and strokes my knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

If I wasn’t working a case as an undercover agent, I would have probably lost myself in his eyes, the dark depths bearing the weight of what he’s suggesting.

Batting my eyelids at him, I stare at our hands as he intertwines his fingers with mine. “You know I don’t care much for that,” I remind him with a pout. “All of this…” I gesture around the fancy restaurant. “... It’s not me.”

“The dress is you,” he drawls, eye twinkling with heady demure.

“Only ‘cause you told me where we’d be dining,” I sigh in frustration. “I would have been okay with just going to your place,” I shrug. We’d been seeing each other for little over two months now, and I have yet to see where he lives. We already know where he lives – in a villa in Sedona – but no one can enter because of security.

That’s why I’m here – to infiltrate the villa and gather as much information as I can. The only trouble is that Luca Mancini doesn’t trust me fully yet. That’s why our dates are always anywhere but Sedona, being picked up by his limo or flown off in his private jet.

Baby steps, but we’re getting there. Perhaps, after tonight, he’ll really trust me and show me to his villa.

Luca groans lightly, leaning back in his chair but keeping my hand in his. “My place is… Not as grand as this,” he lies, though he doesn’t know that I am aware of just how grand his villa is. “I’m only trying to impress you.”

“Well, consider me impressed,” I muse, though it’s a lie too. It’s hardly anything to be impressed by an arms dealer who supplies weapons to the oppressors in the Middle East. Luca thinks I only know him as a salesman of high-end vehicles. I’d like to keep it that way.

What worries me is the part where he expects more than just hand-holding. If I can make it through the night, I might just be able to achieve what I’m here for.

As we draw toward the end of dinner, Luca pays the bill and shows a great deal of chivalry as he helps me get my coat over my shoulders and holds out an arm for me. He’s the polar opposite of the real man he hides behind this mask – the Devil himself, supplying weapons of mass destruction to those who wreak havoc in the world.

Still, I maintain my sheepish smile as we walk out onto the sidewalk.

“The limo should be here…” Luca says with a frown, stepping ahead of me and keeping me behind him with one hand. He lifts his wristwatch to his lips and begins speaking hurriedly in Italian.

“Luca, what’s–”

He grunts under his breath and shakes his head, continuing his stern orders in Italian into his watch. Out of nowhere, a pair of large hands grab me by the waist, my vision being snatched by whatever has gone over my head. I’m suddenly picked up, Luca’s voice ringing out behind me as he screams. It’s a blur of forceful footsteps, shouting, being thrown into the back of a metal van. The engine roars to life somewhere ahead of me, and the vehicle is set into motion.

Lugging in deep breaths to calm my nerves, I’m about to call out to the kidnappers to remove the bag from my head when I’m lifted off the metal floor of the van. Frowning deeply behind the bag over my head, I yell, “Hey! Let me down!”

Something’s terribly wrong – I can sense that much. Not only are the hands on my waist abnormally big, but they’re also hot, as if burned in a furnace. Like the claws of hellfire clutch my waist, leaving gravity behind as the air feels coolly distinct, like we’re flying toward the clouds.

The loss of gravity underneath me is unlike anything I’ve felt before. It’s nothing like flying in a plane, that moment of take-off that defies gravity. This has the wind blowing against my flesh, warmth exuding from whoever or whatever holds me, and my arms bound to my sides so that it’s impossible to wrestle free. All I can do is kick my legs, yelling even though my voice is lost in the wind.

The flight lasts only a few minutes, but in that time I haven’t given up trying to fight against the heat that envelops me and carries me forth. A shiver courses down my spine when the flight is slowed down, and I hear a flap of something that sounds like an eagle’s wings. Except, it’s much louder and more powerful, prompting me to finally settle down and pay attention to anything I can hear to get the slightest idea of what’s going on.

I’m slowed down even further, arms held in a vice grip beside me as we touch down. Whatever keeps me bound loosens steadily, turning into what feels like strong arms, like I’m being pressed against a warm body, a stone-walled chest., Despite how restricted my vision is, the unfamiliar circumstances don’t worry me enough as they should. For some reason, I feel safe. It’s the unknown that has me shivering as I’m set onto my feet.

Wobbly knees have me stumbling over the heels I’d paired with the red dress. I’m about to buckle over, when the pair of strong hands grab my arms to steady me. Without warning, the bag is removed from my head, striking my eyes with unfamiliar bright light. All I can see is the outline of a man in front of me, and I have to blink rapidly to settle my vision.

Once… Twice… By the third time, my breath catches in my throat, lodged by the sight of the ethereal beauty before me.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing except a gasp falls from my lips. Piercing green eyes like emerald beams stare into my face. I can’t help but remain momentarily stunned, the facial features of the man so sharp and symmetrical, that it’s almost impossible to believe he’s real. With a nose so pointed and full lips so plump, his skin creamy as if carved from marble. Not even the faint traces of facial hair is enough to attest that he’s human. The gentle pricks that match his tuft of blonde head around his mouth and cheeks appear like skillful strokes of a painter’s brush to allude to his humannness.

“Who–who are you…?” I murmur, unable to form a coherent thought besides wanting to know if I’m imagining this being of beauty in front of me.

I’d never considered a human man to be a beautiful creature. But this one is pretty. He has me dazed, and the only way I can gather that he’s even real is from the way his bladed brows furrow in a moment’s hesitation.

“Who are you…?” he repeats my question, almost as if he’s the one who’s hypnotized. He quickly pulls back, his frown deepening as he stares at me accusingly.

“I’m–” I’m about to respond to his question, the accusation in his eyes, when he turns his gaze to his palms and visibly shudders. Almost as if he was appalled that with those hands, he’d touched me.

His reaction allows me to snap out of my daze and take a quick look around at my surroundings. We’re standing in the helm of a lavish bedroom – but not the one I would have expected in the best suite of the Bellagio.

No. This one is far grander, with pastel blue organza cascading from the ceiling around the bedpost on the left, plush golden carpets adorning the floors, and speaking of luxury that not even Luca Mancini could afford with all his tainted wealth….

“Where are we?” I snap back at the blonde man, narrowing my eyes at him.

The man’s frown softens, a fleeting smile forming on his lips. “Where we are doesn’t matter,” he says calmly. “All that matters is that you’re safe now.”

“Safe?” I frown, shaking my head slowly. “I wasn’t in any–”

“You were about to be kidnapped, woman!” he snaps back, the derision in his eyes returning and turning them almost jetted. “I saved you!”

Realization keeps me momentarily stunned into silence. He must have witnessed the kidnapping and thought I was in danger.

“That’s not…” I begin, watching as he casually strolls to the glass sliding door behind him. He pulls it closed, then there’s a clink of metal as he locks it. What is he doing?

“Excuse me… Whoever you are… You don’t understand,” I call out from behind him, my frown deepening as he pulls the curtains over the door. “I wasn’t in any kind of danger.”

“I know what I saw,” the man says as he turns around.

When our eyes meet again, the wind is knocked out of my gut. It takes every ounce of inner strength to remain composed, forcing me to take the deepest breath I’ve taken today.

“Do you work for Luca?”

He frowns again. “Luca? Who’s that?”

“So you don’t…” I conclude. “Then you must know, I wasn’t in any kind of danger.”

The man stares at my face in disbelief, taking a step forward. My heart skips a beat, not because I feel threatened. I’m skilled in self-defense, and I could easily take him down if I needed to, even if he towers two heads above me, his frame larger and bulkier than mine. Instead, I suddenly have the heinous thought about what it would feel like to be pinned down by that much muscle…

“You were being kidnapped, woman,” he grunts. “You were being pulled into a van—”

“You’re not listening,” I say irritably, rolling my eyes. “It was all part of a plan. You see, I’m an agent–”

“I don’t care who you are or what you are,” he grates, taking another menacing step forward. This time, the terror in his eyes, coupled with how he clenches his jaw, tells me there’s no point in trying to talk sense into him. “The fact is, I saved your life.”

He saw a kidnapping, and he acted on it like a good Samaritan. The only problem is, that he’d disrupted my plans and that of the FBI.

He’s done more harm than good.

“So what? You whisked me away on a jet-pack and thought I’d commend you for being my hero?” I scoff. The man pulls back and straightens up as if my words are too bitter to digest.

“That’s what you believe?” he asks, raising a brow as mild amusement plays on his lips.

I grunt with frustration. “It doesn’t matter what I believe! You’ve disrupted an ongoing investigation and need to take me back.”

“No,” he says calmly, slipping his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I’m not letting you get into any more trouble.” He clears his throat and calmly strolls past me.

“What are you doing?” I call out after him when he opens the bedroom door. “Did you not hear a word I’ve said?”

The man spins effortlessly on his heels, turning back to me with a mischievous smirk on his lips while he holds the door ajar. “I told you already; I’m not letting you get into any more trouble.”

With that, he walks out and shuts the door with a loud thud behind him. I rush forward, huffing my frustration, trying the handle that doesn’t budge.

I just went from having a kidnapping staged to being really kidnapped by some psychopath on a jet-pack.

Great!