He moves to block my path, not aggressively, but suddenly he's standing between me and the exit. "Madison, calm down and be reasonable."
"Calm down?" I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "Did you really just say that? Do you have any idea what it does to a woman when you suggest she should calm down? And you want to talk about reasonable? Let's start with not stranding people by cutting their brake lines or whatever the fuck your goons did to my rental car. Let's talk about not springing imaginary debts onunsuspecting house buyers. Let's discuss not kidnapping women for candlelight dinners then demanding they spend the night!"
"No one is kidnapping anyone."
"Then I'm free to leave?"
"Yes, but I would prefer if you stayed."
"Tough shit, Enzo. And I would prefer to go home. Guess which one of us gets to make that choice."
We stare at each other for a long moment. I can see him calculating, weighing options, deciding how far he's willing to push this.
"Very well," he says finally, and steps aside. "I'll have Antonio drive you back."
"Don't bother. I'll walk back alone."
"Madison, it's five kilometers down a mountain road with no streetlights."
"Then I guess I'll get my exercise in for the day."
I march toward the front door before he can argue further, my heels clicking against the marble floors with more confidence than I actually feel. The sound echoes through his perfect house like gunshots.
"This is foolish," he calls after me. “You’re being ridiculous.”
"Maybe. But it's my choice."
I walk out his front door and don't look back, even though I can feel him watching from the doorway. The circular driveway crunches under my heels, and then I'm through the gates and onto the dark mountain road.
It's immediately obvious that this was a terrible idea.
The road is narrow, winding, and completely unlit except for the weak glow from my phone's flashlight. My dress shoesweren't designed for hiking down mountains, and every step on the uneven asphalt threatens to send me tumbling into whatever lies beyond the edges of the road.
But I keep walking because the alternative is going back and admitting he was right.
And there is no fucking way I’m doing that.
After about ten minutes, my feet are killing me and I'm starting to question my life choices. The confident clicking of my heels has deteriorated into an uneven stumble-clack as I try to navigate around potholes and loose stones.
Something rustles in the bushes to my left, and I freeze completely.
Wild boar. He mentioned wild boar.
I stand perfectly still and shine my phone light toward the sound, but all I can see are dark shapes that might be dangerous animals or might just be bushes moving in the wind.
"This is fine," I whisper to myself. "Just a pleasant evening stroll down a mountain in the dark. People do this all the time. He was probably lying about the wild boar to scare me."
I take another step and my ankle wobbles dangerously on a loose stone. These heels are going to be the death of me, literally. I consider taking them off and walking barefoot.
That's when I hear a car engine behind me.
Headlights sweep around the curve, and I move to the side of the road, hoping it's just someone from the village heading home late. But the car slows as it approaches, and I recognize the sleek black sedan.
The passenger window rolls down, and Antonio leans over from the driver's seat.
"Signorina," he says in his heavily accented English. "Please. Get in the car."
"I'm fine walking, thanks."
