I almost laugh. "You mean their fear of you, rather than their love for me."
"Fear is a powerful motivator. One of the most powerful. Possibly even more so than love."
"So is greed. And pride. And the simple fact that damaged goods are worth less than pristine ones." I gesture to my torn dress, my disheveled appearance. "How much am I worth now, after beingkidnapped from my own wedding? Half of the amount you’re demanding? A quarter?"
"You're overthinking this and you’re distraught."
"Am I? Or am I the only one thinking clearly?" I turn away from him, moving back to the window. "Tell me about this villa. How long have you owned it?"
The change of subject catches him off guard. "For years. Why?"
"Just curious about my prison." I trail my fingers along the windowsill. "It's beautiful. Expensive. The kind of place where you bring valuable things until you’re tired of them."
"Yes."
"How many other women have stayed in this room?"
"That's not relevant to this situation."
"Isn't it? I'm trying to understand the business model." I turn back to face him. "Do you always house your collateral in such luxury?"
"When the collateral is worth six million euros, yes."
"But what if the collateral isn't worth that much? What if the market doesn't support your asking price?" I sit back down on the bed, crossing my legs with deliberate grace. "Do you lower your standards accordingly?"
He's studying me with something that might be respect. "You're remarkably calm for someone in your situation."
“I prefer to understand my circumstances." I meet his gaze directly. "So tell me about the other women that have been in this room."
"There haven't been other women in this room."
"Then what makes me special enough for the luxury treatment?"
"Your value." He moves closer to the bed, but doesn't sit. "You're Colombo blood. That means something."
"To whom?"
"To the kind of people who pay premium prices for quality."
"You're talking about selling me. Trafficking me."
"I'm talking about exploring other business options only if your families fail to meet their obligations." He checks his expensive watch. "Speaking of which, you'll join me for dinner in an hour. I'll show you more of the villa afterward, the parts you'll need to know."
"And if I refuse to have dinner with you?"
His smile is sharp. "Then I'll drag you there. But you'll find the evening much more pleasant if you cooperate."
After he leaves, I stand and pace the room, my mind working furiously. The conversation revealed more than he probably intended. There haven't been other women. This isn't his usual business model. Which means either I'm special somehow, or this situation is different than he's letting on.
I walk to the armoire and select clothes for dinner, a cream silk blouse and black trousers that fit perfectly. Too perfectly. How long has he been planning this?
An hour later, exactly as promised, the lock clicks open.
"Ready for dinner? I hope you’re hungry.” Renato stands in the doorway, once again immaculate in his tailored suit.
"Do I have a choice?"
"You always have choices. The question is whether you'll like the alternatives."
