Instead, finding a black hair tie, I put my hair into a low ponytail so it’s out of the way, then I go over to one of the French doors and open them so I can step out onto the terrace. The air is warm and scented with salt from the sea and rosemary from the pots that sit near the stone balustrade.
Below me I can see the green lawn roll to the edge of the cliffs and the deep blue of the Aegean beyond that. It’s a beautiful view, but no amount of inhaling the scented air and gazing out at the ocean will change the fact that this villa is a prison, and I know it is because there are men in dark suits everywhere, patrolling the grounds. Argenti security no doubt.
The helicopter on the lawn takes off in a roar and a press of air, soaring up into the blue sky, and I wish I was on it. I wish I could fly away too, but I’m stuck down here, married to my family’s hated enemy. Really, marrying Carlo would have been a walk in the park compared to this, because while we didn’t know each other well, I didn’t think he was all that bad. Certainly, I could have done worse.
You did do worse.
Anger wells up again at the thought, so I turn away from the beautiful view and the lie of freedom it represents, and go back into the bedroom. I try the bedroom door to see if it’s locked, and I’m almost shocked to find that it isn’t. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not as if I can go anywhere given the level of security in the villa and grounds.
I open the door and step into the hallway outside. There’s no one there, but a lovely stained glass window at one end casts colours on the stone floor.
Gathering my determination to at least check out the prison I find myself in, I spend time opening the doors on the top floor, finding more bedrooms, a couple of bathrooms and an elegant salon. Most of the bedrooms look as if they’re not used frequently, which means they’re probably for guests.
But there’s one thatisclearly in use, its door opposite mine in the hallway, and it’s large, with another four-poster bed against one wall, an antique dresser against another. It’s very plain, with no couch beneath the windows or silken carpet on the floor, but all the bottles on the dresser are arranged neatly, and everything is very tidy.
The room smells pleasantly of smoke and cedar, the scent sadly familiar. It smells of him, which means this must behisbedroom.
Vincenzo Argenti’s bedroom.
I freeze in the doorway, listening for any noise, because I don’t want to be found lurking creepily around. Yet I also don’t want to leave. Maybe somewhere in here is a key or a phone or something I could use to get word to my father. Or maybe even to get out of the villa entirely.
Hearing nothing, I take a little breath and begin to explore.
On top of the dresser are various aftershave bottles, a hairbrush and comb, but nothing else. The drawers themselves reveal only clothes, and nothing much else of interest. After I’ve exhausted the dresser, I go over to the closet doors and slide them open, seeing only a line of perfectly tailored suits, all in various shades of grey, black and blue. Shirts, neatly pressed, hang next to them, all without exception either white or black.
Clearly, he doesn’t like colour or mess, and it’s very irritating that there isn’t anything immediately obvious lying around that I can use to escape with.
Turning from the closet, I go over to one of the bedside tables. There’s nothing on top of it, but when I pull open the drawer I find boxes of condoms and, lying next to them, a gun.
A rush of adrenaline hits me and I reach for it, sliding my fingers around the cold metal. I know how to use one—my father insisted I learn because even though it wasn’t expected that a woman would have one, she should at least know how to defend herself. About the only thing he and I agreed on.
‘Tsk, tsk,gattina,’ a dark male voice says from the doorway. ‘Don’t you know it’s rude to go snooping about in other people’s bedrooms?’
Chapter Six
Vincenzo
CATERINA IS STANDINGnext to my bed with a gun in her hand, and I can see immediately from the way she’s holding it, with the safety off, that she knows how to use it. Good. A wife who can’t defend herself is a sitting duck. What is less good is that the instant I spoke, she lifted her hand and now the muzzle of the gun is pointing directly at me.
l fold my arms and lean against the door-frame, unbothered. She’s not going to shoot me, I’m sure of it. She has a fiery temper but I know a killer when I see one and a killer she is not.
No, she’s your wife, remember?
Oh, I’ve not forgotten. I might have spent the last hour or so organising for Annika to attend me tonight, as well as fielding more calls from my head of security to keep me updated on the Salvatores’ response, but I’m well aware that I now have a wife.
Giovanni Salvatore has not given any answer to my ultimatum yet, but considering his daughter’s life will be forfeit, I’m sure he will. I didn’t give him much time, but that was intentional. I don’t want him to think, I only want him to act on his paternal instincts.
Naturally, I’m not going kill Caterina—murdering one’s wife only hours after marrying her is generally frowned upon, even among the families, not to mention rendering my little crusade utterly pointless—but Salvatore doesn’t know that. All he knows is that one of thecosa nostra’smost powerful bosses has his daughter and will kill her if he doesn’t pledge his allegiance to me.
‘Put the gun down,gattina,’ I say. ‘You’re not going to shoot me.’
Her chin lifts, the gun still resolutely pointed at me. ‘You don’t know that.’
‘Sadly, I do. I’m a killer, but you are not.’
She’s out of her wedding finery now, wearing some loose black trousers and a green sweatshirt. Her glossy black hair has been put into a ponytail, long tendrils like black smoke clustering around her ears.
In the loose, shapeless clothes, she looks small and fragile, yet also beautiful, which I find odd. There’s no hint of her figure and yet the green of the sweatshirt enhances the colour of her eyes, and the neck is wide enough to have fallen off one shoulder, revealing the line of a black bra strap and some smooth light-olive skin beneath it.
