Chapter 70: Chapter 70

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× GRAPHIC CONTENT BELOW NOT INTENDED FOR YOUNG READERS ×

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◇ KEL ◇

A drawn out silence and the poignant fear of dying in the hands of a paranoid psychopath kept me quiet on the screaky chair.  I waited.  I glanced around me while I convinced my own brain that I wasn't paralyzed with fear.

The room remained dim, uninvitingly cold, and somewhat creepy.  A thin sheet of dust covered the dark furniture, some cobwebs hung from the corners of the ceiling, and I could smell the old bedsheets, even though I wasn't on the single bed.

"Stronzo."

I glanced to the door.  It was shut closed, but I could still hear the boss constantly barking orders at someone. One of his security personnel, I imagine.

By some miracle, he would stay outside and eventually leave me alone.  Forget what he started.  Forget what he had in mind for me.

Wishful thinking.  A psychologically disturbed man like him wouldn't just forget everything and let me go. But I still prayed.

In haste, I put on my bra, refusing the urge to bawl,  making an effort to keep my breaths quiet.  I had  to keep it together.  I got up from the chair, alone and weak from all the stressful thoughts.

Even though I was helplessly losing courage, I still waited for Enzo, badly hoping he would wake up and start looking for me.  At the moment, he was the only one who could rescue me.  Get me out of this scary confinement.  Save me from his brother's sick, twisted games.

The sudden noise of the doorknob turning followed by some hasty footsteps forced me to sit on the cold floor and hide behind the chair.  I heard the monster lock the metal bolts again.

"Missed me, doll?"  Leandro yawned loudly as he approached the bed.  His jaunty tone and the look on his face denoted amusement.

Why? I didn't want to know.

He placed a folded towel on the yellowish covers.  Then he stood next to me as I sat on the floor.  With an attentive gaze, he watched me watch him, just waiting for me to move.

Whatever he was doing outside, it seemed to have calmed him down.  Perhaps even cleared up his ridiculous suspicions of why I was spending time with his brother.  I could see his intakes of breath were back to normal, and Leandro was no longer clenching his fist, unlike earlier. Maybe his staff brought him some good news?

"Time to clean up, doll."  Leandro grinned at me.

Although it made me cringe, I kept looking at his face to keep myself alert and aware.

He might've brought a gun with him this time.  "Get up."  The guy said it with a quick hand gesture.  He was still wearing the same black boxer briefs which could easily pass for swimming trunks.

To my ears, he sounded calm.  I stood up and held back a scowl, confused as to what he wanted to do to me now. There was still fear in the mix, but his much calmer aura almost reassured me that he was done beating a confession out of me.

"Good girl." He stepped closer to me and completely ignored the bloodstained scratches I had left all over him.  There were a few on his arms, neck, and shoulders.  The longest and bloodiest one ran from the top of his muscular neck down to his firm and bare chest.

It gave me goosebumps. Was he going to kill me now? Sexually assault me? Punish me all night for hurting him?

Just the thought made my insides churn as my legs turned weaker and numb. I  should be screaming my lungs out for help, but, my throat felt too sore, and him being too close made my mind race.  If I started shouting for help again, it might only make him want to hurt me more.

"I'm sorry." I looked away. I tried my best not to flinch when he started combing my wet hair with his fingers.

"I know." He grinned again. The smile reached his eyes this time.  Odd.  Almost like, he meant to smile at me.

It made my heartbeat race even more.  Why did he seem...much less dangerous now?  Or was it just an act?  Was he trying to trick me into letting my guard down?

"Sorry I scared you. Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."

Sorry? Cleaned up?  How?  Did he mean a bath?  With him?

What sick game did he want to play now?  "Bathroom. Now."  He held my arm.  His instructions sounded stern, but not as threatening as his demeanor earlier.

If I read him right, he was now in the mood for something else besides trying to beat me unconscious. In fairness to him, he didn't exactly beat me unconscious, no matter how irate he seemed back in the pool.

Maybe he actually didn't like to hit women?  Like he said?  Whichever the case, I was certain of one thing now.  I  had to act nice and extremely submissive.  Try to earn his trust.

No more outbursts, no shouting, no physical violence. Then maybe, just maybe...he would let me go and forget about punishing me for things I didn't even do.  Acting abjectly submissive would also allow me to read his thoughts and emotions better.  I might get to play with his head, convince him I wasn't a threat or anything.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." I walked calmly as he guided me towards the other side of the room. There was a narrow brown door which I didn't notice when he dragged me into this cold room. Must be a bathroom?

My suspicions were confirmed when he took me inside an old bathroom.  It faintly smelled of mold and dust. He shut and locked the door behind me, then flipped the lights on while his grip on my wrist loosened, as if he was being careful not to hurt me any more.

One of the ceiling lights still worked. I waited for his next set of instructions, knowing he wasn't going to leave me alone just yet.

No.  My long night wasn't over.  This nutjob had something else planned for tonight.

"Like I said, I don't hit women." Leandro glanced at my slouched posture and put his hands on my shoulder. He led me to the shower area and turned on the showerhead. He even checked the water temperature for me.  "I apologize, that I hurt and scared you."

Did he mean "nearly kill" me?  Was he serious?  He's apologizing for what he just did to me?  Speechless, I froze under the warm water.  The apology sounded believable, somewhat sincere.  I  would mock him right this second if only I wasn't terrified of his taller,  imposingly fit physique.

He was slightly shorter than Enzo but more muscular.  He looked like he could wrestle and fistfight all day.    It was intimidating, to say the least.  "This fucking job messes up my head most of the time. Affects my focus," the guy said before turning me around  so my back was facing him now.

Self-control, too, I wanted to add. But of course I kept the comment to myself.

"I can't afford to take security issues lightly at this stage. The whole business is at stake."

"I understand," was all I murmured in response.

The shower area wasn't spacious, but he was keeping a safe distance from my almost naked body.

My chest constricted when I felt his fingers near my bra. "Please don't." I tensed my shoulders and arms to try to stop him from undressing me.  "I want to keep them on."

"Alright." He left me in the shower and stepped out of the room.

Instant relief washed over me while I tried to enjoy the warm water washing the dirt off my skin. I smelled of pool water, and slightly of sweat and dust.  Was he still in the bedroom?  Getting me some soap?  Shampoo?

He walked right back in after a minute or so.  He put a bottle of body wash on the small ledge below the old showerhead.  "Wash up. Clean your fingernails."

"Okay," I replied with submissive nods after glancing at the tip of my fingers.  It wasn't exactly dirt that I needed to wash off my fingernails.  It was mostly his blood.  He wanted me to get rid of evidence.  Of course.

While I cleaned my hands, face, and fingernails with the liquid soap, the smell of jasmine and fruits filled the small bathroom.  I  could feel his eyes on me. It near made my skin crawl with disgust and embarrassment.

He watched me bathe while he silently stood outside the shower area. He was enjoying the whole thing.

I didn't need to look at him to confirm it.  Hesitantly, I finished my shower while he watched.  Lucky for me, he didn't force me to bathe nude.

He handed me a clean towel after I turned off the showerhead.

"Thank you," I muttered before glancing at him.

"No problem." He stepped forward to help wipe my hair.  Next, he wiped my back, my shoulders, and then my thighs.  His movements were swift but also careful to an extent.  He even grinned at me when our gazes met.  He seemed so calm, quiet, almost pleasant.  He was acting like a totally different person.

It alarmed me instead of calming my worries.  What game was he playing now?  Did he think I was that stupid?

After he wrapped the bath towel around me, he led me out of the bathroom with his hand resting on the crook of my neck.

His touch almost made me shiver, except his hand on my exposed skin felt much warmer than the smooth tiles under my bare feet.  "Time for bed."

Oh shit.  Did he mean...he wanted me in bed now?  Alone and practically naked?

"You're taller than Aya but you look the same size." The guy handed me a pair of underwear the next second.

Aya?  Did he mean his girlfriend?  Alodia?  I stared at the thin fabric. It definitely looked like women's underwear. Skimpy. Lace. Dark red.  "Can I have my bag? Please?"

"Why?"

"My clothes. I left them in my bag."

"Someone will bring them down here in the morning."  He took the towel off of me, threw it onto the dusty nightstand, and gently pushed me closer to the bed. He made me sit near the pillow and started wiping my feet with the towel.  "Quite old but the sheets are clean."

"Can I...can I please sleep somewhere else?" I held my breath while waiting for his reply.  Sleeping alone locked up in this dark, dingy room in the basement just terrified me.  The image of him sleeping with me on this old bed scared me more, though.  It would keep me up all night more than the claustrophobia.  "Per favore, Signore."

"Not tonight, doll."  Leandro threw the towel back onto the nightstand after he wiped my feet dry.  "Off."  He pointed to my wet underwear.  His pinkish lips frowned a bit when I didn't move an inch.  "Now."

What?  Seriously?  He wanted me to undress in front of him?

"Take them off." He grinned at me while I stayed still on the bed.  "Please."

His smile looked a bit sincerer than I expected, but his calm tone didn't quite assure me that it was a request.   Reluctant to disobey his command for fear of getting hurt again, I unhooked my bra while I sat on the bed and he stood in front of me, his black boxers the only thing keeping him clothed.

As I expected, he watched me while I fully undressed myself to put on his girlfriend's clean underwear.  My hands and legs almost trembled but I did it in seconds and without looking at his face.

This was the game he wanted me to play?  Dress-up?  What a sicko.

"Who did you meet with in Belgrade?" He pulled me by the hands to make me stand on the bed while he stood next to the nightstand.

His interrogative tone prompted me to push aside my own questions and just give him the answer he wanted to hear. "Niccolo."

"Vinciguerra?"

"Yes."

"And?" Leandro opened the nightstand drawer and took out a silky cloth.  It was a nightgown.  Peach.  Thin, short, and expensive-looking.  "Who else was there with you?"

"His uncle," I replied after a moment of hesitation.  I'd rather stay alive tonight than lie to him and end up in a ditch with a bullet in my head. Or in pieces.

Straight-faced and seeming satisfied with my answers, he helped me put on the nightgown, then stepped away and took something else out of the drawer.

I sat back down on the bed and watched him skim the printed photos he held.

"This man?" He showed me a candid picture of an older man in a suit, stepping out of a vehicle.

The awkward angle was shot outside a public establishment, but I recognized the Hummer—the one Nicco and his uncle had used in Belgrade.  The man in the photo was none other than Ilya, his uncle.

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