Chapter Two
1110 Words
Chapter 2
Tracy awoke to the sound of ocean waves crashing against the shore. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming.
The mattress beneath her was softer than anything she’d ever laid on, and the AC swept cool air over her warm skin.
She blinked, adjusting to the brightly lit room, her mind hazy with confusion.
Like the cautious journalist she was, her sharp grey eyes began to scan the space.
The white ceiling stretched high above, adorned with unique golden carvings. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows were draped in silky white curtains, while sunlight streamed across polished marble floors that gleamed like mirrors.
It was a beautiful room stunning, even but panic surged through her as she realized it wasn’t her bridal suite. And it definitely wasn’t Matteo’s.
She bolted upright, immediately regretting the move as a sharp pain shot through her skull. Her head spun, and she glanced down.
Her wedding gown was gone. In its place, she wore a silk robe one she didn’t recognize.
Clutching the fabric tightly, confusion twisted across her face.
“What the f**k is this? What is going on?”
She stood abruptly, heart hammering.
“Where the f**k am I?”
Footsteps echoed outside the room. She staggered to her feet, but the cold marble against her bare soles sent another dizzy wave crashing through her. She gripped the bedpost for balance, silently cursing her weakness.
The footsteps drew closer. The door creaked open.
Her heart thundered in her chest.
A pair of golden loafers stepped into view. Slowly, she raised her eyes then froze.
No. It couldn’t be.
He was older now. A beard framed his jaw, and his ink-black hair looked slightly tousled, like he’d run a hand through it too many times. But his piercing blue eyes? They were unmistakable.
The same dangerous glint.
The same intensity.
He leaned against the doorframe, dressed in a white button-up with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, exposing dark tattoos etched into his skin.
Ethan Alvaro.
The Mafia Lord of the Chicago Syndicate.
“No. No, no, no,” she whispered, panic clawing at her throat.
“You,” she choked out, barely recognizing her own voice.
A slow smirk curled his lips.
“You’re awake. Thank God. I was afraid you’d sleep forever or something.”
Her mouth opened, but no words came.
“Six years and three months, amore,” he continued, “and the first thing you say is ‘you’?”
Tracy balled her fists, willing herself to wake up from whatever nightmare this was.
“Oh, it’s really me, amore,” Ethan said, reading her disbelief. “It is Ethan. Your Ethan.”
“No, it’s not. It can’t be you.”
He stepped closer.
“Oh, but it is.”
Memories flooded back. The wedding. The dressing room. The handkerchief.
Her eyes widened.
“You….You drugged me!”
Ethan sighed like she was being dramatic.
“Well, technically, yes.”
“Technically?” she shouted. “You kidn*pped me from my own wedding!”
“No,” he replied calmly, stepping deeper into the room. “I saved you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”
Rage swirled in her chest.
“It’s been six years and three months and this is how you show up? k********g me?! You’re insane!”
His jaw twitched, but he masked it with a smile.
“It’s alright, amore. I’ve been called worse.”
“I am not your love! Where am I?!”
“My private island,” he answered.
Her stomach dropped.
“Your….your private island?”
He gave a cocky nod.
“Yes. Among other things.”
“Take me back! Take me home! Now!”
“No,” Ethan said, voice suddenly cold.
Tracy’s breath hitched.
“I have to go back, Ethan. Matteo is—”
“Don’t say his name,” he snapped.
“Damn you! Matteo will be looking for me. He’ll”
“Do nothing,” Ethan cut in. “You’re mine now, Tracy.”
Her whole body recoiled.
“I belong to no one. Especially not you!”
Ethan’s eyes darkened. He took a step forward, backing her against the wall. He braced a hand on either side of her head, caging her in.
“You forget,” he murmured, “that six years ago you promised to marry me.”
Her breath caught.
Italy. That reckless night. The wine. The passion.
She had been drunk. So drunk she hadn’t even known his name until morning.
But she remembered now. Ethan Alvaro.
And the stupid promise she’d made.
“That wasn’t real,” she whispered. “It was a one-night stand. A mistake.”
“A mistake?” His voice was razor-sharp.
“Yes!” she snapped. “A drunken, impulsive, stupid mistake. And you know it too!”
He chuckled darkly.
“Funny. I remember it very clearly. You said yes, amore. And where I come from, a promise like that isn’t taken lightly.”
Tracy let out a hollow laugh.
“Oh please. I said yes while drunk. Do you also believe in fairies? Because that’s as real as whatever that night was.”
His eyes glittered with something unhinged.
“Did you really think I’d let you marry another man when I have a claim on you?”
“You don’t have a claim on me! I have a fiancé!”
“Why do you still insist on calling Matteo that?”
“Because he is!”
Ethan snapped.
“No, Tracy! The second you said yes to me, you became mine. And I, Ethan Alvaro, don’t share what’s mine.”
She stared at him, horrified.
“Do you even hear yourself? You sound like a bloody lunatic!”
He smirked.
“Maybe I am. But at least I’m a lunatic with a private island.”
Tracy’s eyes twitched.
“I hate you.”
“Give it time,” he said casually. “You’ll come around.”
“You can’t keep me here, Ethan.”
He tilted his head, brushing a hand through her hair. “Why not?”
“B - because it's illegal!” she spluttered. “I could have you arrested for this.”
“You're adorable when you try to threaten me.” Ethan let out a laugh, a deep, rich sound that sent chills down her spine.
“You can't keep me here forever.”
Ethan smirked, tucking a stray hand behind her ear. “We'll see about that, amore.”
Tracy slapped his hand away. “Go to hell.”
Ethan could only chuckle. “Darling, you're already there.”
- Writer
