I'm His Woman
1230 Words
I sipped my wine, letting the rich taste linger in my mouth as I stole a glance at him. He was calm, composed, waiting for me to speak. Damn it. He'd caught me—he knew something was off. But he had no idea about Sicily. Not yet, anyway.
"Uhm..." I hesitated, my voice coming out rougher than I intended. Maybe I was starting to feel the buzz from the wine—or maybe I was just nervous.
"Why do you ask, Your Highness?" I tried to sound casual, but the words came out hoarsely. I didn't even know why I was being cautious. He already had me figured out.
He leaned in, eyes studying me, "Because I want to know."
The wine slid down my throat. "Yes, I do. I lived in Sicily back in the day," I said, forcing myself to sound indifferent, like those years didn't matter. Like I didn't leave a part of myself behind there.
He didn't say a word at first, just raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. Slowly, he sat up straighter, clasping his hands and resting his elbows on his knees. "Why did you leave?"
I froze. That was the last question I wanted to hear. My past felt like a cage, and I didn’t want to open it. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
Five years without looking back. Five years without thinking about the grave I left behind.
Zavi leaned forward again. "You're crying."
I wiped my eyes quickly, not wanting to spoil the moment. "I... we relocated after my mom died." I gulped, downing the rest of my wine before it could make me say anything I’d regret.
Zavi was quiet for a moment. Then, in a rare move, he refilled my glass. "I asked because I thought you were..." He trailed off.
I cut him off, my voice sharp, "A spy?"
He nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "Si, it's something I need to be careful of. Don't tell anyone you understand Italian." His tone was serious, almost warning.
I shrugged. "I take care of a lot of things. My men are capable. But there's a need for a female figure by my side." His words hung in the air, and I could feel his eyes studying me closely.
"A female figure? You have plenty of women around you," I shot back, keeping my tone casual, though I couldn't help but feel curious.
Zavi leaned back, smirking slightly. "None of them know what I do."
That caught my attention. "Why? Why me?" I asked, my voice quiet but full of confusion. I knew my father owed him, but that didn’t explain why I was involved. Why not just use me to make money, like some pawn?
He smiled then, a real smile, and it almost took me by surprise. It was a rare thing, this smile.
"Because I can see it," he said, voice softening for a second. "The will to survive. You’re a beautiful girl who would kill to survive."
I flushed at the compliment, but quickly dismissed it. "I wouldn’t kill," I muttered, "I’d strive to survive."
"But..." He leaned in closer, his gaze intense. "You need to grow up. You're... trouble."
"I’m 19," I snapped back. "I'm an adult."
He shook his head. "You have a lot to learn."
His words always seemed to carry a layer of irritation beneath them, like he thought I was too naïve for the world he lived in. Maybe I was. But I wasn’t going to let him win.
"I hope I can learn from you, Captain." The words left my mouth before I could think, a playful challenge.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased. "You'd better."
I licked my lips and set my glass down on the table. "Do I have a say in any of this?"
His smile disappeared, and the air turned colder. "No. You do as I say. Disobey me, and I’ll make you regret it."
My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to stay calm. "Do you do this often?" I asked, my voice quieter now.
Zavi looked at me, clearly confused. "Do what?"
"Threaten people."
His lips curled into a smirk. "That’s why they fear me."
I couldn't help myself. "No, that’s why they want to kill you."
He scoffed, but there was no trace of worry in his eyes. "I won’t die easily. Even if I die right now, you won’t live."
I raised an eyebrow, confused. "Why?"
He leaned back in his chair, a glint in his eye. "Because you’re mine. You die with your master." He said it like it was an obvious truth, and I felt my breath catch.
I wanted to laugh, but I held it in. He was such an ass. "Can't I just pay you back and leave?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Would you?"
The idea took root in my mind. Could I really pay him off? "How much does my father owe?"
"Three million," he said flatly.
My eyes widened, and I almost choked on my breath. "What?!" I looked around, realizing that all eyes were on us now. The shock was too much. "How did he even spend that much? We didn’t even buy a house!"
Zavi just shrugged. "You know your dad."
I bit my lip. Of course I did. Gambling, more than likely.
"You gonna pay it back?" he asked again, his gaze unwavering.
I picked up my glass again, but the weight of what he was asking settled heavily in my chest. "I don’t have anyone who could help me with this."
He smiled, a dark smile. "Then you might want to think about it. I gave you a suggestion, not that you have any choice."
I folded my arms. "So what exactly will I be doing?"
"First," he began, his voice low and serious, "not everyone makes it in life. If you want to survive, you’ll need to keep your mouth shut and learn to stay out of trouble."
I wanted to snap back, but something in his tone made me hesitate. "Second, you'll need to defend yourself. You're weak and vulnerable."
I frowned. "You gonna teach me to fight?"
Zavi shook his head, his smirk returning. "No, but someone will."
He leaned forward. "Then you’ll stand with me, attend events, and work with me. Everyone will see how important you are by my side."
I was starting to get it. He wanted me to be his shadow. The bad girl, by his side. Not the worst deal, I suppose.
"My first rule is simple," he said, "no disrespect. No snooping. You do your job, and leave the rest to me."
I almost rolled my eyes. Yeah, I could handle that. "Got it."
Zavi gestured to the door, where his men were standing. "Those are my men. Any questions, V?"
I paused, then shook my head. "No, sir."
He looked at me with a slight smile. "It’s Zavi. Call me Zavi."
…
By the time we returned, I realized something had shifted. I wasn’t a prisoner anymore. I was something else. Zavi’s right-hand lady. His woman, and it was starting to feel real.
"Pack up. We leave at five," Zavi said, as we made our way inside.
I stopped dead in my tracks. "Where are we going?"
He didn’t look back. "Home."
- Writer
