The Don and His Angel

Chapter 11

"How old is she?" I ask, looking at the sleeping Isabelle in her crib.

"Nearly one," Maria says with a smile as she too gazes at the little girl.

"She's beautiful," I tell her.

The little girl was blessed with her genes. She has her father's dark curls and her mother's green eyes framed by thick lashes. She has a cute little button nose and adorably chubby cheeks.

"Thank you," Maria smiles, "it can be very hard to get her to sleep."

"If you ever need help while I'm here please just ask," I tell her sincerely.

"Grazie Victoria," she replies.

"I'm pretty jet lagged so I'm going to head to bed," I tell her.

"Come with me for a moment first," she instructs.

I follow her through the castle. I thought the New York compound was confusing, this place is a whole other level. She leads me to her room and straight to the closet.

"You can't go into town looking like that," she says simply as she looks through the racks of clothes. She holds up different colored clothing against my face until she is satisfied.

"Here," she hands me a beautiful sky blue dress with cap sleeves.

"Grazie," I say as I take it from her hands.

"You can keep it," she tells me, "It doesn't fit since I've had Elle. I still haven't lost all the baby weight."

"Oh stop it you look amazing," I say, "if I hadn't held her myself I wouldn't believe you were ever pregnant."

She laughs at the compliment, "thank you darling."

"Is that what you call her though?" I ask, "Elle?"

"Si," Maria replies, "now you get to bed."

"Thank you again," I say with a smile.

"Tell the guard outside to bring you to your room," she instructs as I walk towards the door.

Standing outside the door is one of the many guards. He glances at me when I walk out but quickly diverts his eyes.

"I need help finding Luca's room," I tell him.

He doesn't respond. He just nods and starts to walk away. I follow behind him as he quickly navigates the home until the familiar door is in front of me. I utter a small thank you before entering.

I hang the dress up in Luca's closet and run my fingers along the fabric of his suits. They're all expertly tailored and obscenely expensive. The door to the room opens and shuts again and I peek my head out of the closet.

Luca stands in the middle of the room and starts to undress. I watch in awe as the fabric of his shirt floats to the ground to reveal taut muscles and amazing tattoos. As he goes to pull off his suit pants I clear my throat.

His attention snaps to me and a sly grin spreads across his face, "what are you doing in there?"

"Maria gave me a dress to borrow," I reply as I join him in the room.

"I prefer you like this," he states before going into the closet.

He returns moments later sporting just grey sweatpants. I try to ignore the fact that his body should be made into a statue and climb into the bed. Luca turns off the lights and grabs a throw blanket from the foot of the bed.

True to his word, he goes over to the chaise to sleep. I watch the amusing sight of him trying to get comfortable on a piece of furniture half his size. He's truly committed to sticking to his word. He seems to be trying to make me comfortable.

"Luca," I sigh after at least five minutes of him shifting around.

"Yes il mio piccolo angelo?" He replies. I roll my eyes at the nickname.

"Just come sleep in the bed," I say.

My heart starts racing and my hands begin to sweat as he crosses the room. But it's not fear.

He climbs into the bed beside me but leaves a good distance between us, ever the gentleman. We both lay on our sides to face each other.

"I really am sorry Victoria," he whispers.

"For what?" I ask him.

"For everything," he shakes his head, "your father, your brother, this whole world you've been thrown into."

The room falls silent for a while.

"Luca?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you buy me?" I ask.

I know it's foolish to question him. I know he probably won't tell me his motives. He might even kill me for asking. But I want to know.

"I didn't buy you," he starts, "you were offered as a substitution for your brother."

"I still don't get it," I tell him.

He sighs deeply and gently pushes some hair out of my face.

"Marco turned to the Russians for help," he says, "he broke the code of silence. The night that you were brought to me, he was supposed to die. He offered you up as collateral; someone to be killed in his place to give him more time to get the money."

My stomach drops. He didn't just sell me. He tried to fucking sacrifice me; tried to kill me.

"Why didn't you kill me then?" I ask him.

"I could never hurt you," he says with sincerity, "I knew from the moment I saw you that I would protect you."

"Why?" I ask him again.

"Stop questioning the good things in your life," he says.

I turn to my back and stare up at the ceiling. He's right.

I haven't known him long, but being with Luca is a good thing. He shows compassion and concern. He protects me from harm. He ensures my comfort.

This doesn't feel like a game anymore.

He might be a monster, but not when he's with me.

"Goodnight Luca," I say quietly.

"Goodnight il mio piccolo angelo," he responds.