I rest my head in my palms, wishing I could go back in time to prevent all of this from happening in the first place. If I hadn’t kidnapped Angela, I wouldn’t be so torn right now between keeping her and letting her go. But then again, I could’ve never let her marry The Cleaver.
I laugh scornfully. In two days, I’ll be handing her over to the man she hates so he can do that very thing.
I look up, struck by a sudden inspiration. Maybe I’m overthinking this. Why not just take the money from the Rizzos and then kidnap her again at some point?
Because it won’t be easy. They’ll lock her up in their palatial estate and never let her go. If I give Angela to them I probably won’t see her again for a very long time, if ever.
There has to be a way to take the money from the Rizzos but keep Angela anyway. Well, how about this: we kidnap some other woman and use her as a decoy. There’s time, since the trade is two days from now. Yes, I’m now very glad I asked for an extra day.
I’ll have to put together a plan. I won’t reveal it to my brothers just yet, since they’ll probably try to dissuade me. But yes, I’ll put something together.
And when the time comes, I won’t force her to be with me. I’ll give her a choice. She can stay with me, or return to her father.
It’s with a heavy heart I realize she’ll probably choose her father. Why wouldn’t she? I’m the monster who kidnapped her and kept her confined against her will.
I sigh.
I want to spend as much time with her as I can before it’s time to let her go. Though I wonder if I’ll simply be making it harder on myself. Maybe it’s better if I left her alone.
As if I could stand that in my current state. No, I need to see her. And when she chooses to leave me two days from now, at least I’ll know she’s happy.
With my mind temporarily at ease because of the solutions I’ve come up with to deal with my inner turmoil, I cook up some risotto for her and head upstairs.
I unlock the door, but can’t find her. My first thought is that she’s tried to escape again, but when I glance at the window, I see the bars yet in place. The bathroom door is ajar and I can hear Angela humming softly.
I go to the door and clear my throat.
“Well well, was that your first attempt at a knock?” comes her voice.
I push it open a notch and peer inside. She’s taking a bubble bath. She’s filled the water up to the rim of the tub so that only the very top of her upper body is visible: her chest from the clavicles up, her bare shoulders, her neck and her head. She’s not wearing her cherub pendant.
Her long hair is pinned into a bun—well, more of a tower really, but it looks hot on her. Wet locks tumble down from either side of her temples, framing her gorgeous face.
She winks at me and blows me a pouty kiss.
I’m instantly hard.
I try to talk, but it feels like I have something stuck in my throat, so I clear it again. Finally, I can speak.
“Dinner is served,” I rasp.
Her face lights up. “Good, I was getting hungry. What is it tonight?”
“Risotto.”
“Risotto again?” she quips. “I thought you were going to surprise me.”
I gesture at the plate. “Thisisthe surprise. I asked you if you wanted anything special, and you said no.”
“Well if you keep giving me risotto I’m going to start thinking it’s all you know how to make.”
“Maybe it is,” I grunt. “You’re lucky I’m feeding you at all.”
“You’re lucky I’m eating,” she says with a smile so fake it’s cloying.
She leans her head back and pats the small stool beside the tub. “I was hoping for a glass of wine, but I guess risotto will do.”
I’m tempted to rush downstairs to get her a bottle of wine, but I remind myself I’m not her errand boy. She doesn’t have me wrapped around her finger.
