I feel a grin form because it doesn’t bother me at all. Another look at the time tells me Raoul will be home in less than thirty minutes. Although the sound of voices in the hallway has my heart leaping.
Did he come home early?
I don’t hear him among the voices, though.
Then I hear someone shout.
“Paolo?” I call, then jerk at the sound of a sudden crash. “Paolo! What’s going on?”
There’s more shouting. My heart stops as a sharp crack rends the air. Unmistakable.
Gunshot!
It’s followed by two more.
“Paolo!” the name is muffled as I clap a hand over my mouth. Someone’s coming in here. Someone who means to do harm. And then footsteps thunder as four armed men burst into the living area.
“That’s her!” one of them barks to the others. Weapons raised, they spin to face me. I start backing up, bare feet slipping on the tiles in my panic. A quick glance around has me scrabbling for the vicious carving knife I’d been using on the duck.
“Get the fuck away from me, or I’ll fucking gut ya!” I snarl, but it doesn’t deter them. “I mean it, you cunts!”
Sorry, Baby!
Metal grates as guns are cocked.
“Don’t be stupid, bitch!” the one in the lead snaps. He’s tall, burly. Dark hair, swarthy features, and his heavy accent give me the sense he’s probably Italian. And the muzzle of his rifle is aimed straight at my forehead.
Fuck!
I’d fight, but I can’t risk it. It’s not just me to think of anymore.
Baby…
He stalks closer, the others close behind him. I keep backing up until I bump up against a counter. They’re feet away…inches…and then they’re upon me…
“No!” I scream. And then a heavy sack is yanked over my head, leaving me in darkness.
Chapter 14
Raoul Caraldi
I’m ten minutes late, but I figure she’ll forgive me. But if not, I’ll convince her. The giant bunch of red roses are fresh and fragrant, and even though they’re cliched, I’m certain she’ll love them. I have a chilled bottle of Moet under my other arm. Perhaps I’ll get her to share a glass with me – though she’s stayed staunchly resistant to all offers of alcohol since we met again at that ridiculous fundraiser at Dario’s place. Kind of strange because she hit the tequila pretty hard that first night we were together.
Maybe it was the shock of being abducted?
Who could blame her? Although it would be pretty funny if I’d married a non-drinker, considering I’ve been a big player on the party circuit all my life.
It doesn’t matter. I don’t care if she’s not a fan of booze. She’s perfect. And she’s waiting for me. The thought makes me want to adjust my pants, but I can’t because my arms are full.
Down, boy!
I’m impatient now. My toe taps on the floor of the elevator as I wait for it to reach our level. The first thing that greets me as the doors swish open is the acrid stench of burning meat, and it makes me grin.
Maybe we’ll be ordering in tonight.
She doesn’t drink. She doesn’t cook. And she’s perfect…every sweet, fragrant inch of her. All of which I plan to enjoy as soon as possible.
Who cares about ordering in? I know what I want to eat tonight.
