Bianca
Ispent every minute of the next five days contemplating Michael’s proposal. It presented a vexing conundrum filled with much anxiety and fear on my part. But for all the fear, there was also an undeniable kernel of hope that rested deep in my heart, and part of me wondered if we could pull it off.
Would I truly be able to hide in Italy? If so, would I be more miserable than if I stayed? What if Michael forgot me or grew tired of me. Our meeting had been so brief, yet it was extremely profound...for me, at least.
Michael had brought me to my first orgasm, and I found myself daydreaming constantly about what it would be like to make love to him. Would he look at me with those gorgeous eyes as he loomed over me, claiming me as his?
I knew it was utterly insane to fall into lust with someone I’d barely met, but he was right about our attraction. It was passionate and undeniable. Could it turn into love if I gave it a chance?
Sliding my hand over my heart as I stood in my bedroom on Thursday evening, I whispered one word. “Yes.”
Staring out into the dark courtyard of my father’s home, I admitted how easily I could fall for Michael. The man who’d vowed to save me, and who’d touched me so passionately.
Throwing caution to the wind, I picked up the bag I’d carefully packed and sneaked down the stairs, knowing myfather’s guards were outside on the front porch and aiming to avoid them at all costs.
I tiptoed to the dark kitchen and unlatched the door. Earlier, I’d turned off the camera that captured the back yard so my father’s men who sat watch in the guest house wouldn’t see me sneaking across the grass.
I stealthily moved toward the back gate, thankful the moon had settled into a crescent that wasn’t quite as bright as it had been several nights ago when Michael kissed me under the dock.
After easing through the back gate, I latched it and headed down the driveway to the main road. My sneakers were soft on the pavement, barely making any sound as I approached the street where the cab would meet me.
Once I saw the white cab, I quickly rushed toward it and slit into the back seat.
“1600 Atlantic Ave?” the driver asked.
“Yes, sir.”
With a nod, he began to drive. I settled into the seat, clutching my throat in an effort to calm the pulse that throbbed beneath my hand. Twenty minutes later, we arrived, and I paid the driver in cash before exiting the car.
Glancing at my watch, I noted the time: ten-fifty p.m. If Michael kept his word, he would arrive any moment. Doubts rushed through my head as I questioned for the thousandth time what in the hell I was doing. Was I really going to marry a man I’d only met for moments and allow him to whisk me away to a secluded village in Italy?
Stepping inside the warehouse, I acknowledged that I’d made my decision and it was time to stick to it.
A lone chair sat in one corner of the warehouse, and I sat down, lowering my bag to the floor and trying not to count the minutes.
Silence surrounded me as the clock turned eleven, and still, no one appeared. Seconds turned to minutes as I waited in the darkness, dread washing over me as realization set in.
Michael wasn’t coming.
My chin trembled as the ramifications of my actions set in. If my father or Victor discovered my failed attempt to leave, I had no doubt I would be punished incessantly; made to remember that disloyalty demanded retribution. Fear rose in my throat as I tried to remain strong. Eventually, I glanced at my watch, noting it was twenty-three minutes past the hour.
No one was coming to save me.
Gathering my bag, I headed back outside and walked several warehouses down before slipping behind a corner and calling a cab. When it arrived, I scurried inside and prayed my father and his men hadn’t discovered I was gone.
Slipping inside the back gate, I zipped across the back yard and entered the kitchen. Walking over to the mechanical box that sat inside the pantry, I turned the back yard camera back on.
I gingerly walked through the house and up the stairs before pressing my shaking hand to my doorknob.
“Bianca?” my father called and I gasped before quickly turning my head to see his silhouette in the doorframe at the end of the hall.
“I’m fine, Father. Just needed a snack. Good night.”
Pushing open the door, I rushed inside and closed the door tightly behind me, making sure to click the lock. Tossing the bag aside, I kicked off my shoes and climbed into bed. I pulled the pillow close, burying my face in the soft cushion as I cried. Long, hopeless sobs tore from my throat as I realized that no one was going to save me. Not even the kind man who’d looked at me with such longing only nights ago.
It was time to let go of fairy tales and dreams of happy endings. I was going to marry Victor and would have to learn to save myself.
I had no idea what the future held, but there, in the last room I’d inhabit before I lost my freedom, I knew the truth:Iwas my only savior, and it was time I started acting like it.
