Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Alessio

"Asshole," I grouse, glaring at Dario. "I could have broken my neck."

Dario smirks. "Oh, well."

I scramble to my feet, scowling. "I guess I should expect that sort of treatment from a low life thug type."

"You're not exactly an upstanding citizen," he mutters, rolling over and presenting me with his backside.

I don't speak for a moment, then I say, "Instead of sleeping, shouldn't you be thinking of a way out of here?"

"I am thinking."

I should probably count my lucky stars that Dario is ignoring me, instead of trying to get revenge on me for how I've treated him. I'm trapped down here and he could do what he wanted with me. I don't have my cattle prod anymore and he's a lot bigger and tougher than me. If he wanted to make me pay for what I've done to him, he could do that easily.

Feeling dejected, I shiver while glancing around the dark, dank space. As much as I'd like to believe Dario can somehow get us out of here, I know there's no way out. For decades my family has used this cellar to imprison people. Not one of them has ever escaped. As I stand in the chilled room, inhaling the rancid scent of urine and blood, I'm seething. The cavalier way Carlo just left me down here enrages me.

Carlo was right about one thing though, I was so fixated on my revenge, I didn't notice he was about to make a move on me. I suppose I trusted him because Father did. I always knew he was power hungry, but I never suspected he'd turn on me. If I make it out of here alive, which I'm beginning to doubt, he'll regret how he treated me today.

I blow on my chilled hands, trying not to fixate on my throbbing face and lips. My thoughts go to Enzo. I hope he's okay. He was with me when Carlo and his goons arrived at the cabin. One of Carlo's thugs stabbed Enzo, and I'm worried he might be dead. The thought of that actually bothers me. I've known Enzo so long, he's almost like family. When Carlo showed up, I had no idea he was going to attack me and Enzo. We didn't have our guard up and now look at the mess I'm in.

The biting cold of the cellar sinks deep into my bones. I'm tempted to get back on the cot with Dario so we can share body heat. If I try, will he knock me onto the ground again? Stupid prick, why should he get to lay there while I stand here shivering my ass off? Gritting my teeth, I move to the cot. Dario's breathing is so slow and even, I assume he's asleep. How can he sleep at a time like this?

He must sense my nearness, because he turns over and gives me a wary look. His body is tenses, as if he's ready for a fight. "What are you doing?" he growls.

"I thought you were asleep," I mumble.

He sits up and throws his legs over the edge of the bed. "No. I'm trying to think of a way out of this." He sighs and rubs his hands together, trying to warm them up. "Are you any good in a fight?"

"Yes."

He runs his gaze over me. "You don't look like you would be."

I bristle. "Well, I am. My father insisted I study martial arts. I absolutely know how to fight. I'm a blackbelt in Taekwondo."

He squints at me. "Is that a real fighting technique, or one of those artsy fartsy styles that rich brats like you take to find themselves?"

Scowling, I retort, "I can kick a guys ass, if that's what you're asking."

"Yeah, that's what I'm asking. Sophisticated breathing techniques aren't going to help us in this situation." He stands and we face each other.

His features are hard, and I sense he's worried. That fact is unsettling. The entire time he was my captive, I never once felt like he was scared. But I can sense uneasiness in him now. Does he think we're screwed? Does he assume we're going to die? If a guy as tough as Dario is worried, I have trouble not feeling hopeless.

"What can we do?" I ask softly. "We can't get out of here, so what can we do?"

His dark eyes meet mine. "We have to get the drop on them."

"How do we do that when they know we're down here?" I frown.

Without answering, he moves to where there are boxes of old clothing. I watch as he grabs armfuls of sweaters and pants and carries them over to the cot. He drops them on the ground and goes to get more. I watch him, confused by what he's doing. Once there's a sizeable pile of clothing, he puts his hands on his hips and meets my bewildered gaze.

"Since they know were down here, we have to make them think they know where we are in the room." As he speaks he grabs a coat from the pile, and he shakes it roughly. "We're going to stuff this full of clothing and make it look like a person."

His strategy slowly dawns on me. "So, we'll make them think the clothing is us, and that we're still on the cot?"

"Yes. In reality," he grates, going back to the boxes, "We'll be lying in wait." He reaches into a box of fishing poles and he turns to face me. The pole he holds is snapped off, making it half the size it would normally be. He laughs gruffly at my blank expression. "It doesn't look like much, but it can do some damage with enough force behind it. We can impale them in the gut or the eye, if we can get the drop on them."

"Okay," I say softly, trying not to shudder with revulsion. I don't want Dario doubting my toughness any more than he already does. Truth is, I'm not a violent person by nature. My upbringing has forced me to be vicious on occasion, and I'm pretty brave with a cattle prod in my hands. But the idea of shoving that pole through another person's eye socket makes me want to vomit.

Maybe something in my expression gives me away because Dario exhales impatiently. "This is life or death, Alessio."

"I'm well aware," I snap, annoyed he was able to read me so easily.

"It's us or them. I need to know I can count on you when the time comes. If you're going to pussy out, then forget it. I'll do what I can on my own."

I curl my lip. "I'm not pussying out. Naturally I don't relish the thought of shoving a fishing pole through a guy's eyeball. That doesn't mean I won't do it."

"If we're doing this, I have to trust you."

I laugh because the idea of him trusting me is pretty fucking ridiculous. "Then I guess we're fucked."

A muscle jerks in his angular cheek. "I mean trust as in I trust you'll act when it's required of you. No, I won't trust you for real, Alessio. Not after the shit you've pulled."

"Something tells me you don't trust many people whether they kidnap you or not," I murmur. He gives me a wary look, but doesn't argue. "What do you think our odds of getting out of this alive are?"

He grimaces and avoids my gaze. "Not great. But we have to try."

"I agree." I gesture to the cot with the clothing piled on it. "What do you want me to do?"

He hesitates, then says, "Grab another coat if you can find one. We need two fake people."

As I go to the boxes I wonder if I'm digging through the clothing of the many prisoners we've kept down here? That's an unsettling thought. Will my clothes end up in one of these boxes if Carlo murders me in cold blood?

I watch Dario out of the corner of my eye. He's moving around, stabbing the air with one of the broken fishing rods. He thrusts the pole with such brutal force, I shiver. I can only imagine what it would feel like to have that pole shoved through my body. I'll do whatever I need to so that I can survive, but I can't say I'm looking forward to piercing another person's eyeball with a fishing rod.

"How will this work?" I ask, stuffing a big wool sweater into the cavity of an old coat I found. "We don't know exactly when they're coming tomorrow."

"We'll have to be ready before daylight." Dario pauses his play fighting for a moment, and he glances at me. "There can be no hesitation. If you think stabbing Carlo will be a problem for you, you should tell me now."

I scowl. "How many times do I have to tell you I'll do what needs doing? I look forward to stabbing that asshole."

"I think instead, I'll handle Carlo," Dario says, studying me. "You can take on the others."

I frown. "Excuse me? Shouldn't I have the pleasure of murdering Carlo?"

"Why? Because you're related?" He chuffs. "That's not what matters. What matters is that he goes down fast. There will be no second chances with him."

"I told you before, I'm not weak," I hiss, straightening.

Dario shrugs. "I'm not saying you're weak, but he's an alpha and I'm an alpha. We're more evenly matched."

I huff. "Well, I don't take orders from you. And, besides, they're all alphas, so your logic makes no sense."

"It's important Carlo dies fast. I'd feel better being in charge of that happening." Dario turns his back on me as if the subject is closed.

I wrinkle my brow. "This isn't settled."

"Yeah, it is." He goes back to jabbing the fishing pole in the air.

I give a short laugh and move toward him. "No, Dario, it's not. Like I said, you're not in charge of me and I want to be the one to take Carlo out."

"Jesus," he rumbles, turning to face me. His eyes are black and angry as he steps toward me. "We're going to die if you challenge me every step of the way. What happened to you doing whatever I ask you to do? Was that just a line so I'd take you with me if I get out of here?"

Heat prickles my cheeks because I did say that to him. "I don't think it's right that you'd be the one to kill Carlo when I'm the one he betrayed."

He sighs and his rigid expression softens ever so slightly. When he speaks, his voice is not exactly gentle, but it's less harsh. "I understand you want revenge, but I just want out of here."

"I want that too."

A muscle works in his cheek as he studies me. "I think we have a better chance of succeeding if you'll listen to me and follow my lead. I'm not trying to push you around. I think you're very clever. You ambushed me and I didn't see it coming. I don't doubt you're tough, Alessio. But this situation is different. Brute force is what's needed here. There will be no do overs. Do you understand?"

My pride tells me not to listen to him, but the rational part of my brain knows he's right. There's no denying Dario is bigger and tougher than me. I'm no hot house flower, but I'm not built for brutality, and he is. His fists are huge compared to mine. I'm not soft, but I'm soft compared to him.

As if reading my mind, he grimaces and says, "Kid, I'm built like a tank, and you're built like a thoroughbred. Let me do the dirty work, okay? I know you can handle those other two guys. I'm not confident you can murder your own cousin without hesitation. I don't even blame you for that. It's actually good that you'd have qualms about murdering family. Take it as a compliment that I think you have a soul, okay?"

I hold his gaze, fighting my pride. "Fine."

He nods his approval. "Good."

I return to stuffing the coat and pants to look like a person. I'm so cold I'm tempted to put on one of the old sweaters. When my teeth start chattering, I give in and slip on a light blue cashmere sweater from the pile. Dario takes note, but says nothing.

Eventually, we have two fake people constructed. "Should we put them on the bed?" I ask.

Dario hesitates. "No. We can put them on there later. I think we should try sleeping a little bit."

"Oh. How exactly would that work? Do you mean we should sleep in shifts?"

He rubs his unshaven jaw and the tips of his calloused fingers rasp against his skin. "I think it's best if we both lie down on the cot at the same time."

"Why's that?" I squint at him. I highly doubt he wants to seduce me at the moment, so I'm curious why he wants us to share the cot.

Pursing his lips, he admits, "Because that way I can feel if you get up."

I laugh. "You mean you don't trust me while you're sleeping?"

"Can you blame me?" he asks. "It's not like you've made any secret about wanting me dead."

I smile grudgingly. "True. But right now I need you."

"Still," he murmurs, his gaze wary, "I'd feel better knowing where you are at all times."

"Such a suspicious fellow."

"It's one reason I'm still alive." He gestures to the cot. "You get in first. I want to be on the outside."

I frown. "Why?"

"Because I just do," he says smoothly.

I smirk. "I'm guessing it's not so you can protect me?"

He snorts. "No. I'm not interested in protecting you, Alessio."

"I see. But you need me right now."

"Exactly. We need each other. If we get out of here, that changes. But for now, we have a truce."

I narrow my eyes. "If we have a truce, why are you so worried about what I'll get up to while you're snoozing?"

"Because I'm afraid your desire for revenge against Valentino might outweigh your desire for my help. I'd rather not have a fishing pole jabbed through my brain."

I shudder and climb on the cot. "You have a real way with words, Dario." I lie down, staying as close to the wall as possible.

"I don't trust you. Why lie about it?" As he speaks, he joins me on the cot. He carefully lowers himself down, and the cot squeaks beneath our weight. His bulk takes up a lot of room, and even though I know he's not trying to cuddle with me, our bodies are pressed together.

"The feeling is mutual," I mutter. "I have no reason to trust you either."

"Exactly." He turns so that his back is to me, which is a relief. I'm not sure I could have relaxed with him watching me with those dark eyes of his. His body is so warm, I lean into him a little. We're already crushed together, so what's the difference? He may be an thuggy jerk, but he's a warm thuggy jerk.

I allow my face to rest against his broad back. He smells surprisingly good, considering he's been stuck down here for days without a shower. The wool sweater he's wearing has a hint of mothballs, but Dario's natural aroma is pleasing to me. His scent is masculine. Woodsy. I'm bewildered why I feel calmer being next to him, but I do. I've never been particularly in touch with my omega instincts, but something about Dario brings them out.

We lay like that for a while, and I soak in the heat of his body. I'm warmer now, but don't know if I'll be able to sleep. I'm pretty wound up. I wonder what my father would think if he saw me cuddling up to Valentino's second. Is he rolling over in his grave right now? If I was more ruthless, maybe I would try and stab him with one of his broken fishing poles while he's sleeping. But as he said, we really do need each other right now.

I jump when Dario suddenly speaks. "You should try and rest. I don't think Carlo and his goons will show up before dawn."

I frown. "How do you know I wasn't already asleep? Maybe you just woke me up by talking."

"I could tell from your breathing you were awake."

I grunt in response and close my eyes. I'd never tell him this, but I'm curious about Dario. I wonder what his childhood was like. Why is he content to play second fiddle to Valentino? He's an alpha who commands respect. Has he never wanted to be the one in charge? Is he truly happy to simply follow Valentino?

Of course, I can see why Valentino values him. Dario is a tough, smart guy. He doesn't panic in a bad situation. He stays calm and he just keeps thinking. He did that earlier today when Carlo showed up. He was completely taken off guard by what went down with my slimeball cousin, but he kept his head. Was he born into this lifestyle, or did he fall into it like a lot of guys do? I never really had a choice, but many people do.

Dario exhales loudly. "Jesus, kid, I can literally feel your brain buzzing. Go to sleep."

I sit up on my elbow, feeling irritated. "You know, that's easier said than done. We might die in a few hours. I'm sorry if the thought of that doesn't relax me."

"Well, count sheep or something," he grumbles.

I lie down again, scowling. "Mind your own business. You're not asleep. Why do I have to sleep?"

He sighs. "Because you're different than me."

"Oh, I get it. I'm a weak little omega who needs his rest?"

He laughs gruffly. "This has nothing to do with you being an omega. It has to do with you being pampered. You probably can't function without your beauty sleep. You probably have a little sleep mask, silk sheets, and a humidifier back home, don't you?"

"Are you going to pretend as Valentino's second you live in squalor?" I roll my eyes. "We're both living pampered lives."

He's quiet for a moment, then he says, "Maybe that's true. But I wasn't pampered from birth. You were."

I'm kind of hoping he'll expound about his childhood, but he doesn't. So I say, "You're the one who started talking. If anything you're keeping me awake." I scowl at his broad back.

"I won't say another word. Now go to sleep, okay?" He exhales roughly and shifts around, trying to get comfortable.

I let out a shaky breath, willing my body to calm. He's not wrong about the amount of anxiety buzzing through me. I want to sleep, but I also know before I know it the morning will be here and I could very well die. He shifts around some more as if trying to find a comfortable position. Then at one point, he sits up. That scares the hell out of me because I'm afraid he's heard something.

"What's wrong?" I ask, heart racing.

"Oh, uh… nothing," he grumbles. "It's just that my arm is hanging off the damn cot."

I frown at his surly tone. "I'm not sleeping on the floor, if that's what you're hinting at."

"I wasn't hinting about anything, Alessio." He shakes his head. I can't see his expression in the dark, but I can feel his eyes on me. "Is it okay if I face you?" he asks quietly. "Then my arms wouldn't hang off the cot."

I swallow nervously. "Oh, uh, yeah." I'm surprised he asked for my permission. "I can face the wall."

"I don't care if you face me."

Facing each other feels way too intimate. He's supposed to be my mortal enemy. We're only working together right now so we don't both die. "It's fine." I turn to face the wall. I feel him shifting his weight as he rolls over. When he rests his hand on my thigh, I stiffen. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry." His voice is gruff. "I just don't know where to put my arm. This cot is so cramped."

"It's not made for two people," I mumble, praying he can't hear how breathless I am. He starts to move his hand away, but I say, "It's okay, Dario. I know you're not trying it on with me. Go ahead and rest your hand on me. It doesn't bother me."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

He shifts a bit more, and then he settles. His breath is warm on the nape of my neck, and the hard press of his chest against my back feels nice. I'm annoyed when my dick twitches. I don't want to feel attraction for him, but I do. It's dangerous to have any feelings for him other than hatred, but I've felt a weird connection with Dario since the moment we met. I don't recall ever experiencing that with an alpha before.

The most surprising thing is that after a few moments of feeling really uptight, I begin to relax. My lids are heavy and I find my breaths begin to match the slow, deep rhythm of his. The heat of his bulky body seeps into mine, and the most delicious sensation of serenity washes through me as I drift off to sleep.