Il Mio

II - Home

HOME

AUDREY

Bile rises up my throat like a stampede of frightened herds running to save themselves. I sit up almost too quick and scan around the unfamiliar room, observing everything it contains. Memorized from before, rush back to my head, pricking my eyes with tears.

The room has a strong, underlying musky scent to it. Something about it seems familiar, but as I put thought into it, it grows faint.

The two bedroom doors burst open and I let out a shriek as I back myself against the wooden headboard, bunching the sheets around my naked torso. I'm breathing heavily, my heart pounding so hard against my chest as though it's about to burst at any given moment.

Grey eyes lock in with mine, piercing my weakening soul. They're gleaming brightly. And for a minute I am fixed on those eyes. The devil wears black slacks with a crisp, white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. Both his muscular arms inked with intricate tattoos. The three top buttons of his shirt are left purposely undone, revealing his very muscular chest dusted lightly with dark hair.

Who knew the devil would look so great?

I jerk upright, his words startling me.

"Hello, Audrey. Did you rest well?" He smiled revealing a dimple on his right cheek, I would've smiled at how adorable it looked—but given the situation I was placed in, smiling was the last thing I felt like doing.

"How do you know me? Why am I here?" He doesn't respond, simply stares back.

I avert my gaze to the balcony where the light illuminates the room. My eyes water and my hands begin to shake.

"I understand you must be frightened, but you don't have a choice in this matter, darling."

The enormous bed dips as he lowers himself onto it, somewhere beside me.

"Audrey, look at me."

I blatantly ignore his request.

"I will not repeat myself," there's a dark hint in his words. His fingers find their way under my chin and he tightens his grip, causing me to flinch slightly. My eyes dart up to meet his. I expect to find the flames of hell swirling around his eyes, instead, I'm taken back when I see they've grown soft. He holds a strong resemblance to the face of a Greek god. His strong, rectangular jaw is set locked tightly together and his low, sharp cheekbones only add on to his intimidating looks. If anything, my captor was gorgeous. A model coming right out a GQ magazine.

Though his looks were no excuse for his actions.

"You really don't know me, do you?" His voice is soft, almost a breathless whisper and his eyes hold my own. Hurt flashes across his gaze, but it's quickly masked over.

I gather the courage to ask. "What's your name?"

The corners of his lips lift into a faint smile. "You can call me Roman."

He stands to leave and I simply stay still, afraid to make a move. He returns a few minutes later, standing in the doorway of the ensuite. It's as though he's waiting for something. His shirt is tight against his well-built frame, defining the muscles of his broad shoulders. My eyes trailed down to his white dress shirt that clung to his torso like a second skin. If you looked closely, you could see a few outlines of his toned stomach. Oh, my.

No, no! Don't let the looks fool you!

He pushes himself off where he lean and walks towards me. Something in his walk makes me tilt my head to the side wonder. He walks with grace, confidence held under the stubble chin. His hands meet the bed along with his knee.

He leans dangerously close and I feel the intensity of his stare. "You're going to stay with me here. You are not going back, Audrey."

"W-what? No, you can't do that. My uncle is powerful. He will find me and he will-" His eyes become tainted with dark clouds, heavily whipping out a storm. He catches my chin between his fingers and holds my face prisoner.

"Don't threaten me, little girl. Your stupid little handguns don't scare me. You are not returning back and that is my final say."

*

I wept silently on the bed clutching the soft pillow close to my chest, hoping it would bring to me any consolation. There was an ache in my heart at the thought of knowing I would never see my family again.

There was a faint click heard, followed by the rattle of the doorknob. Roman left the room shortly after and locked the door behind before leaving, to ensure I wouldn't escape.

A middle-aged woman walked through the door with a silver tray in her hands. My stomach rumbled loudly at the sight of fresh cut fruit and a delicious bowl of oatmeal. I sat up in bed, wiping away my tears using the back of my hand.

"Mr. Gianniotti sends his apologies for leaving so abruptly, but has said you must finish everything off this plate." The lady sets the tray on the bed gently. Setting up the dish as if I were a child.

She bows her head down in respect and turns her back on me. I reach for her and grab her apron causing her to jerk back.

"Please, can you help me?" I plead.

She gives me a look of sympathy. Her warm brown eyes cautiously checked our surroundings. Her soft hand rests on mine and gently rubs it, "I am so sorry, child. Mr. Gianniotti had given us strict orders not to have any contact with you without his given permission."

A fresh coat of tears veiled my eyes. "Can you at least let me know my location?"

The lady runs her hand through my hair. Just the simple touch is oddly relaxing and brings me to ease.

"You are in Mr. Gianniotti's private island."