Mafia, Take Me Home

Chapter 4--Mistress

[Amelia]

The warm smell of the sea wakes me from my sleep and I open my eyes, to find myself lying on a bed draped in silk.

Where am I? How did I get here?

“Good Morning, Signorina,” a rolling voice purrs as a maid rushes through the room opening drapes. “Signore Blasi is out for the day, but he says you should enjoy the villa during your stay.”

Villa? Stay?

“I’m sorry,” I sat up slowly, my eyes struggling to focus. “How did I get here? The last thing I remember was walking from class to…”

Wait, that isn’t right. Stopping mid-sentence, I try to remember what happened. At first my mind is blank until suddenly it isn’t.

My body seizes as I’m suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of memories that crash into my mind, tearing apart my sanity under a wave of terror. Men snatched me, dragged me to a warehouse where they hurt me, mocked me, threatened to cut me into little pieces to deliver to Lucas, no Lucky. That’s right, they called him Lucky.

“Stupid w***e fell for the wrong man,” they cackled as they blew cigar smoke in my face. “Dumb Blasi-loving b***h. Maybe we should show her what a real man feels like.”

Their leader stopped them before they could touch me. “Let’s save the real show for Lucky,” he had laughed as he pulled out his camera and began to film. “Then the real fun will start.”

And then I remember the worst part of all. Lucky is Lucas. Lucas is mafia. He’s one of the bad guys, just like the men who killed that person in the alley. Just like the men who kidnapped me.

If this place belongs to Mr. Blasi, I need to get out of here before he returns.

Standing up straight, I rush to the older woman as she opens a tall wardrobe and grab her by the shoulders. “I need to get out of here,” I beg, shaking her gently. “Please, Ma’am. There’s been a terrible mistake, I need to go home, I need…”

Taking a step back, the maid looks me up and down with a disappointed frown. Under her breath, she denounces me in hushed Italian before crossing herself and shaking her head. I don’t understand a word she is saying, but the message is clear.

She isn’t going to help me. I’m not worth the risk.

“Stay here, Signorina,” she cautions as she opens the door. “Don’t speak about leaving again. I tell Mr. Blasi.”

“No!” I rush towards her but she’s too quick, shutting and locking the door with a click. With a frustrated shout, I bang against the door, demanding she let me go.

But she doesn’t respond. All that answers back is the quiet calm of an empty house. Folding in on myself, I curl up into a ball and weep, the salt of my tears burning my skin.

What am I going to do now?

“Damn it!” I repeat over and over again, slamming the flat of my hand against the hard marble floors. “Damn it, Lucas. Let me go!”

My heart feels raw and broken, and I scream and cry until I curl into a ball and fall asleep.

I’m not sure how much time has passed when warm arms wrap around me as I feel myself float off the ground. This feeling is familiar, safe, and I curl into it, wrapping myself in the comfort of his warm masculine scent.

“Lucas,” I sigh as my body hangs loose, as I give into this sensation of dreaming, of feeling safe in his arms.

“Shhh,” soft lips press against my hair and I startle, realizing that I’m no longer dreaming.

This is real. Lucas is really here, holding me in his arms, carrying me across the room like a sad child.

Blinking my eyes open, I squint as the bright sunlight bounces off the white floors and walls, blinding me with their brilliance. “Let me go,” I struggle, pulling myself away as I kick, “Put me down.”

“You’ll catch a cold on the floor,” he frowns as he continues to hold me, his arms strong enough to keep me tightly pressed against his chest. “Please stop fighting, I’ll set you down if you can just…”

“What!” I snarl. “Wait? Calm down enough so that you can lie to me?” My chest heaves. “Or maybe you are just waiting for the right moment to kill me?”

Lucas flinches as if I had slapped him. “I would never hurt you, Amelia.”

Lucas sets me down gently at the foot of the bed. Taking a step back, he holds his hands aloft to show me he’s safe even as the gun on his hip, now openly visible, shows me that he never was.

“You already did,” I argue, thinking of all the little ways he lied to me, pretending to be someone he isn’t, just a regular guy with a kind heart. “Was this all just a game to you?”

“Of course not,” his face falls. “Everything I’ve ever said to you, every moment we’ve spent together, has been real. In fact, my time with you was more real, more true, than the time I spend with anyone else. I can be myself with you, be who I really am instead of just…”

“Except,” I swallow, interrupting his flow of words as my anger bubbles to the surface. “Except you’re mafia, aren’t you?”

Exhaling slowly he looks down at his hands and answers hesitantly, “Yes,” he admits. “But it isn’t who I am, Amelia. I am Lucas, the same guy who took you to bagels and helped you with school work. I’m no different now than I was before.”

“If that’s true,” I raise my chin, meeting his gaze. “Then let me go. Lucas is my friend, but you, Lucky, I don’t really know you. If you say you’re the same person, that you’re my friend Lucas, then let me go."

“No,” his tone is cold, flat. “Not yet. It’s not safe for you out there. Those men, the ones who took you, they’ll try again. Until they’ve been taken care of, you need to stay. I…I’m sorry,” he apologizes, a touch of his previous warmth softening his words. “I don’t…I can’t lose you too.”

As the door closes silently behind him. He doesn’t bother with locking it. There’s no need. We both know there is nowhere I can go.

“When I’m not here,” his voice rings out in the hall on the other side of the closed door. “Treat her like the mistress of the house. She is la padrona de la casa.”

“Si, Signore Blasi,” the maids and butlers reply in perfect unison.