CHAPTER TWO
1236 Words
His name was Luca.
And he did keep his word.
He paid for a suite and dinner; he even bought me new clothes: black sweatpants and a bralette tank top, exactly my size.
It looked too expensive. After dinner, I stood in front of a mirror and watched myself in a hotel suite that I could never have paid for on my own, with an expensive dinner and clothes that I felt unworthy to be in.
I gently tucked my blonde hair behind both of my ears as I moved to sit in bed; it was soft, softer than any bed I had ever had.
All this felt too good.
Why would a stranger be so kind as to do this for me?
Who was his boss?
My brow raised; would he want somebody in return?
I fidgeted with my fingers; it was still pouring heavily outside.
Suddenly, there was a gentle knock on the door. Thinking it was hotel staff, I stood up and walked to the door, but alas, as I looked at it, I saw a man before me; he was no hotel staff.
He was dressed in a pair of black suit pants and a black-sleeved shirt; a few of the buttons were undone, revealing his chest tattoos, which went all the way up his neck. He had a black leather overcoat.
I blinked. “Who are you?”
His gray eyes narrowed, his black wavy hair falling upon his forehead. “Do you like the room?” His voice was hoarse, and he had a thick Russian accent.
“Huh?” My brow raised as I realized this man could be the boss. “Are you Luca’s boss?” I asked in a low tone.
His smirk sent shivers down my spine; I quickly took a step back as he began to walk into the room, his footsteps slow and steady. He grabbed the door, and without looking away from me, he shut it behind him.
“What gave it away?”
I curled my toes against the tiled floor. “Why did you help me?"
As he drew closer, I saw the scar on his face. It was a line that started at his brows and stopped under his left eye. He parted his lips to answer my question, but he froze.
He sucked in a sharp exhale. “You interest me.”
I gave him a puzzled look. "But… you do not know who I am.”
His jaw clenched. “I know… and yet somehow you managed to catch my attention.”
“You aren't going to hurt me… are you?”
He rolled his eyes. “If I were going to do that, you'd be dead by now.” He moved to a desk and slid off his overcoat; my heart spiked as he placed a gun on the table.
Who was this man?
Was he in the Mafia?
“Who are you?”
“Not important.” He turned to face me; his accent seemed to grow thicker each time he spoke.
He walked to me and grabbed my chin; my breath hitched, my hands trembling as he tilted it up. "You're trembling.”
"Why… why do you have a gun?”
His eyebrows met in a frown. “If I were going to hurt you, you'd be dead by now,” he repeated.
“Why did you help me?”
He hissed, “I found you interesting.”
I pulled away from his grip; maybe coming wasn't such a good idea. “I think it's best if I leave.” I quickly turned around.
“If you leave, I’ll order my men to kill everybody in this hotel,” he threatened. I froze and turned to face him, men? He was definitely in the mafia.
“Good,” he said as he saw me standing still. “Now tell me,” he began to walk toward me. I moved back shakily until my back pressed against the door. I blinked at him as he leaned forward, our faces only a few inches away from each other.
“Tell you what?” I swallowed.
He placed his hand on both sides of the door behind me; the smell of expensive perfume and something unfamiliar lingered around him.
His gaze scanned my face and a book; it moved to my lips and flicked back up to meet my gaze. “Why do I find you so interesting?" his throat bobbed as he swallowed.
“I…I…,” I struggled to find the right words; I had never been called interesting before.
I noticed a shift in his mood when his face landed on my shoulder; his gaze soon scanned my body. “You have scars,” he said as he grabbed my arm and observed. This time he didn't look so scary anymore; he just looked like a curious boy.
“I know.” I slipped my hands away from his and covered it, but it was all over my body, and he still saw them.
“Who did this to you?”
“It doesn't matter,”
“You are right; it doesn't, but for some reason my mind cannot rest until I hear it, so who?”
“My stepmother,” I said in a calm tone.
“She does this all the time?”
I nodded, “Yes.”
He let out a soft exhale. “Stay in the room until morning; you could catch a cold.” He turned around and walked back to the desk, grabbed his coat and gun, and turned to face me again. “I have business to attend to.” He began to walk toward the door.
I quickly moved out of the way. “Thank you,” I muttered.
He paused and looked at me. “What is your name?”
“Kara,”
He turned to face me. “You have sad eyes; are you sad?”
I shook my head, but he saw through my lie.
“I am,”
“If you can't take any more from your stepmother, you can come to me, and I'll kill her for you.”
I smiled; nobody has ever tried to defend me like that, but the smile quickly dropped. I didn't want anyone to die because of me.
“I'll be okay."
He parted his lips to speak, but he swallowed his words. Without another word, he opened the door and walked out.
I couldn't explain why, but I wanted him to stay. He was a dangerous man, carrying guns around and threatening to kill, but being in his presence was the safest I had ever been. He didn't hit me; instead, he asked how I was.
I shut the door and moved to the bed. I was met with warmth as I slipped into bed and covered myself with the blanket.
I wish I could stay here forever.
An hour passed, and I couldn't sleep. All I could think of was how I would soon go back to Agatha and be married off to a man I didn't love.
I heard a knock on the door; I knew who it was. I slid out of bed and moved to open it. I blinked in shock as I saw him standing before me.
The man from earlier.
He gazed intently at me.
Why did he come back?
- Writer
