“Maria will give you something of mine.” I gestured to my housekeeper.
“What are you going to do about clothing for them?” Dario asked after Rayden left with Maria.
Having not given the whole kidnapping thing much thought, I’d forgotten about that aspect. “We’ll do something about it tomorrow. I looked at my chef. “I’ll prepare dinner tonight, Enzo.”
He gaped at me while Dario laughed. “You cook?” He was braver than Enzo to question me.
“It’s been a while.” I opened the refrigerator and studied its contents. “A year to be exact,” I said, stepping back with the ingredients I wanted.
“Jesus, boss, what’s gotten into you?” Dario smirked. I ignored him. “If you don’t need me, I’m heading home then.” He tugged at the tie he insisted on wearing. “I’ll be eating while you’re still strutting around the kitchen,” he taunted. I shot him a terse look which he just shrugged at before turning. He lived on the property and was right. His mother had his meal ready the second he entered. We had a long-standing joke about him being a momma’s boy and how his wife would have to learn the ropes when he found one.
Grinning, I set to work while instructing Enzo to help. Dario was right. I might not know what had gotten into me, but cooking was something I hadn’t forgotten. My grandfather was largely responsible for my appreciation of the art. When he descended on the kitchen, nobody would say he was a mafia boss and a tough fucker of note, nor would anyone dare to question his love for cooking. He called it his break away from killing bastards that didn’t deserve to live or eat for that matter. Going against my father’s wishes, my grandfather would make sure I was right there at his side in the kitchen. I enjoyed our alone time together. Pity, it didn’t last.
Chapter 10
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ZENA (22YRS)
My eyes shot open, and I sat up. Every inch of me on fire, remembering the crush of Lorenzo’s hand around my neck, tightening with each breath I took and forcing the air from my lungs. Even if he let us go, that moment would stay forever singed into the very core of me. I clutched my neck, wincing at the recollection of his fingers. It still hurt a little when I swallowed, and I was sure he’d left marks on my skin.
Pulling at the t-shirt stuck to my clammy skin, I winced at the churning contents in my stomach. I hadn’t eaten much yesterday, but something told me the sudden nausea lining my throat had nothing to do with hunger. I was scared and I had every right to be. Although working for the Rossi’s hadn’t been the best decision given, I came from a family who gave me a comfortable life. Being kidnapped hadn’t been something I’d envisioned, ever. Obviously. I shook my head with a self-condescending grimace. Who plans on getting kidnapped?
Clutching my stomach, I jumped off the bed and scooted for the toilet. I barely had a second before what little I had eaten, spilled into the receptacle with a violent hurl. Rubbing a hand over my mouth, I sat back when only dry heaves wracked my body and I found myself wondering what they planned to do with us.
Wouldn’t they have killed us by now if that was the plan? What if they were into the whole human trafficking shit? If that indeed were the case, I doubted Lorenzo would’ve brought us to his home. They’d probably have us in a container on a moving ship by now. Even as my brain played twenty questions, I prayed Rayden was faring better than me.
It had taken me a good hour to finally doze off when I realized they weren’t coming back for me and the room I was locked in, proved uninteresting. There were no books, magazines or even a tele to watch. When I eventually closed my lids, crystal blue eyes taunted me into playing guessing games over my future.
Sighing, I stood and stepped into the shower. Fifteen minutes later, I walked out securing a towel around me and frowned when my gaze fell to the sweatpants and t-shirt laid out on the bed. Wondering who’d left them, I shrugged and quickly dressed, laughing when the sweatpants kept falling. Gathering the waistband in an untidy roll which the t-shirt covered, I pulled and knotted the drawstrings as tight as possible.
A couple of seconds later, the door opened, and a woman gestured for me to follow her. She refused to answer any questions and I gave up trying. I had no idea where she was taking me but even though I followed, I kept glancing around for Rayden. When we rounded a corner, I was surprised Lorenzo was allowing us to eat in their dining room. After the aggression last night, I half expected to be chained to a wall in their basement and served dry bread and water. Too many crime movies. I internally grinned.
The second I saw Rayden, I rushed into his arms, not caring that Lorenzo and Remo watched us from the dinner table. “I’ve been going out of my mind wondering what they’d done to you,” I whispered.
“I’m fine,” he replied, holding me tight.
