Chapter Four
1756 Words
Bianca
Niko didn't come to bed last night, nor did he find his clothes dumped haphazardly all over the bed as I had hoped. But that was yesterday, and I've woken up with a new perspective today. And that is, I shouldn't be pushing away the one person placed here to protect me.
When I woke, I felt terrible, but only enough to fold them all and pile them against the wall on his side of the bed. After leaving his room, I hoped I'd find Niko in his office or perhaps the kitchen, where I found Anna making breakfast. She smiles warmly, greeting me with a quick hello before she pushes the tray she intended to bring to me.
I study it and then look at her with confusion.
"Thank you," Anna.
"No problem."
"Where's Niko?" I ask shyly.
"Attending to business, I believe. Luca, Emma, and he will be leaving for work soon."
"Oh! Okay then."
"It's okay, Bianca. Time heals all wounds. Emma will find it in herself to forgive you..." she tells me stoically.
I'm not sure I asked for her opinion, and I'm not sure it's needed, but I nod, devouring the food she's assembled for me: fruits, nuts and granola-covered yoghurt. I'm famished. Honestly, I didn't eat at all yesterday, and I'm unsure when I last ate a full meal.
I must eat like an animal, but Anna doesn't comment as I shovel food inside my mouth quicker than I can chew and swallow. I'm not sure why I don't go to Niko's room; it would probably be advisable with how I'm acting, but I remain in the kitchen until every crumb leaves the tray.
"Thanks, I guess. But I don't need her forgiveness," I shrug finally. I'm unsure if I can trust Anna; after all, she is the enemy, but that doesn't stop me from oversharing.
"We all need forgiveness, Bianca. It's good for our soul."
"It's shocking you presume I have a soul, Anna..."
She looks to me with fear, her eyes bulging like insects eyes. I push back as the awkwardness enlarges between us. Anna seems speechless; it seems I've shocked her.
Smiling, I wave a little goodbye just to make a statement, and I head out into the hall, which leads me back to Niko's bedroom. On the way I look through the doors to the garden, movement catches my eye as I see the men in uniformed lines combating against one another.
Floating to the door, I watch, mesmerised for a moment, being taken back to a simpler day when my father's men did much the same. I had watched them routinely from childhood. Each man gaining in strength and agility. I used to fawn over a number of them. I used to be scared of a few of them. But mostly, I wanted to be them.
A man in this life owns more proprietary than any woman does. Well, except for my sister. Of course. She's always stood on a pedestal while I lay at her feet on the dirty floor. I suppose Mafia leaders expect much the same, but Luca's men seem different.
They are tighter than my father's men ever were, though looser in their movements. I find my interest well and truly piqued.
Looking down at my body, I note my clothes are still of Niko's; smirking, I know it'll piss him off to see me dressed in his clothing and fighting alongside his men.
A moment of clarity has me pushing open the patio door, sauntering barefoot outside. I float somewhat quietly to the men, gathering less than a few stares, which upsets me.
I'm just as invisible here as I were at home.
"Niko's in Luca's office," Mass, the brute, murmurs to me as I come to stand beside him. He's staring between the men before us, obviously the one in charge of their training session.
"I'm not looking for him; I'm here to practise."
"You've no shoes and have baggy clothes, Bianca. Niko will kill any man willing to touch you."
"It's a shame I do not care, right?" I mutter, finding a worthy opponent in the man standing alone after losing her previous battle. I beeline for him, ignoring Mass's moan of disbelief. I tap the tall man's shoulder, and he turns to look at me. Frowning, he looks from my face to the floor and back to my face before he speaks.
"Yes, Bianca?" He asks.
"Let's train?" I ask.
"Where's Niko?" He queries with a frown, looking around the garden with a worried look on his face.
"I don't answer to Niko, and you have nothing to worry about. Our commitment to one another is forced and unwanted."
"I assure you, he wants you," he shakes his head.
"You have me at a disadvantage; what's your name?" I ask while circling the man. He moves as I do, keeping me before him. A tactic I'm sure is ingrained into his very being.
"Elio," he whispers.
"Well, Elio, are you a man or a p***y?" I ask.
"The f**k?" He almost growls like a little puppy dog; it's pathetic, honestly.
I kick out at him, my foot contacting his ribs even though he moves. Dropping my leg, I run at him, using the heel of my hand to drive into his gut.
"b***h," he hisses at me.
"p***y!" I laugh.
He drops all pretence of refusing to take me on after that. It seems like every other man on this earth, a woman's name-calling easily triggers him.
Swinging his right arm, he thought he would easily put me down, but I danced around him, lithe on my feet, cackling a so go.
"That's really your game, Elio? One puny punch, and you think you'll win?"
I punch his side. Kick behind his knee. He almost goes down but finds his footing just in time. It irks me; I hate it when men stay stoic to save face.
Dancing again, tiptoeing around him at speed, I punch his throat, winding him. He gasps, and I chuckle lightly. I'm having fun for the first time in I don't know how many days.
"That was just the start," he squeaks at me. Swiping my feet from beneath me. I fall, hurting my knee, but I bite my cheek to refrain from yelping out. Blinking, I almost miss his attempt at kneeing me in my chest. But I just about manage to lay back enough for his knee to only skim my breasts.
"Nice try, loser!"
"You're too cocky. Did your daddy never teach you manners?" Elio asks.
"ELIO!!!" Niko's scream comes just as I'm about to spill my f*****g guts on the floor. My father taught me many things, but manners was never one of them. That was my—my mother's job. That weird grief sticks in my throat as I thank Niko silently for helping me keep the knowledge I need to remain a secret. Instead, I stand, smirking at Elio as I see Niko charging this way.
"Oops! I guess you were right. He does want me, and he hated your hands on me," I lean forward to whisper in Elio's ear.
"b***h!"
"Bianca, get inside!" Niko grits out at me as he approaches. Deciding to take a note from Emma's book, I flutter my eyelids and nod.
"Of course, Niko," I sing, making him blink twice at my willingness to do as he pleases. Giving Elio a little wave, I skip off, smirking at each man watching me go.
Fuck, maybe Elio was right. Does Niko really want me?
Fuck, f**k, f**k, but that won't do.
I need him to hate me enough to help me escape, not root me here because he can't let me go.
Reaching the patio, I turn around to stare at Niko in disbelief. I wish I were close enough to hear his angry words directed at Elio.
Is he telling him off for hurting me?
Or is it because Elio touched what Niko considers his?
I don't have to wait long to find out what mood Niko's in. He marches towards me with anger lacing every feature he owns. He grabs my arm, dragging me inside the house and to his room. His fingers pinch my bicep as he spins me against the now-closed door.
My back thumps against it, winding me with the force with which he pushes me against it.
"You're playing games, Bianca."
"I was training," I lie.
"No one touches what's mine!"
"Pray-tell me, Niko. What's yours?" I ask with a roll of my eyes to emphasise the fact I find his statement delirious.
"You, you're mine. And that fucker had his hands all over you. I can smell him from here," he grates as if genuinely pained. He sniffs to emphasise Elio's stink as md his nostrils flare at me in contempt.
I chuckle and attempt to push him away, but this only seems to drive him crazier. His hands dart out, one at my throat, the other at my breast.
He smells along my jaw as he gropes my body against my will—or at least that's what I'm telling myself.
"I hate that you smell of him."
"I hate that you presume I'm yours just because Dimitri stated we must marry. I'm not yours, Niko. I'll never be yours," I tell him with a deadpan face of stoicism when inside I'm screaming anything but.
I could be yours; I want to scream at him—beg him even. If only he made me submit to him, then perhaps these words of discouragement would do one?
"You're not so unaffected, Bianca," he smirks, kissing my nose. I scramble back into the wall as much as the little amount of space behind me allows.
"Don't," I warn, despite having experienced butterflies for the first time in my life.
"You don't get to do that, Bianca. Not here, not in our bedroom. Here, you're mine," he warns.
Three precise bangs come from the outer door of Niko's office, yet though muffled, we can still hear them in here. I watch Niko swallow with his eyes closed. His forehead taps to mine as he traps me to the door. His breath fans my face, tickling me with a promise of something never meant to be...Again.
Even so, my eyes drop to his lips as best as they can in this position, and I allow myself to fantasise about the kiss I expected but never got.
- Writer
