Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Finally, I make my way downstairs and through a series of lounges before approaching a massive dining room. There’s a huge, formal table gleaming beneath the low lights, and about twenty chairs pushed in on all sides. At one end, two place settings await, and I see that the mafia don is already waiting for me. He sits at the head of the table, and stands when I approach.
“Good evening, Taylor,” Roman growls, those blue eyes sensuous as they skim over my curves. “I’m glad you made it.”
I blush while sitting because even though he’s my captor, he’s ungodly gorgeous. Black hair is swept off of a high brow and those patrician features are stern and aquiline. His blue eyes gleam as they take me in, trailing appreciatively over my curves, and I go hot in my sweetest spot.
Stop, the voice in my head admonishes. Roman Genovese is your captor, so don’t start flirting with him. The voice is right, and as a result, I decide to dive straight into the deep end.
“You won’t get away with keeping me locked up, Mr. Genovese.”
One black eyebrow raises as he throws me an amused glance.
“Are you sure about that? Like I mentioned yesterday, trafficking in women is what I do for a living. I’ve been in this business a long time, sweetheart, so there are a lot of ways to keep a woman hidden.”
I start in my chair, but then pout.
“Yes, but I’m an American citizen, not some piece of property to be kidnapped. This is illegal, clearly!”
He shrugs.
“You don’t seem to be complaining so far.”
I stare at him.
“Well, I’ll tell your staff. They’ll inform the police and then you’re going to jail.”
Roman merely shrugs, totally at ease in his dark suit.
“I don’t think so. My staff is very loyal to me, and they know not to trust my visitors. You’re not the first time I’ve had a pretty young thing staying with me long-term.”
I gasp, eyes going wide.
“You’ve kidnapped women before?”
He shrugs.
“It’s not kidnapped, exactly. We import beautiful women from Europe for sale to male buyers in the New York City area. Sometimes, the girls need a place to land before meeting the customer, so yes, sometimes they stay here with me. Like I said, you wouldn’t be the first, sweetheart.”
With that, my mouth snaps shut. Obviously, I’m dealing with a pro, and clearly out of my depths.
At that moment, a manservant arrives with two delicious steaks, and places them on the table in front of us.
“Sir,” he announces in a formal manner. “Chef Violetta sends her regards. Two porterhouses with the chef’s special cilantro garlic steak butter, as well as mashed potatoes, creamed spinach, and honey glazed baby carrots. Fresh-baked bread will be coming right out, and of course, we have your house red from the cellar.”
We wait as the food and wine are served, and I inhale appreciatively. Goodness, this looks good. Once we’re alone again, the handsome man turns to me with amusement dancing in his blue eyes.
“Go ahead and eat your dinner, sweetheart,” he growls. “It’s delicious, I promise.”
But I decide to be obstinate. I cross my arms in front of my chest like a sulky teenager.
“No, because I’m going on a hunger strike. Once I keel over from fatigue and starvation, you’ll have to unlock the doors and take me to the hospital.”
Roman doesn’t look worried at all. Instead, he merely chews his steak and then takes a sip of wine.
“Suit yourself, baby girl, but this steak is really hitting the spot. Medium-rare, just the way I like it.”
Of course, my body betrays me at that very moment, and my stomach grumbles loudly with hunger. My cheeks flush, and Roman grins.
“No one’s holding you back, sweetheart. That entire filet is yours.”
Unable to resist the hunger pains, I slice into my cut of beef. Oh wow, this is really tender. I haven’t eaten since having a stale bagel for breakfast this morning, and the meat melts on my mouth, the savory butter giving it that special umami feel. Goodness, it’s as delicious as Roman promised, and clearly there’s going at least one perk to living here: the food.
We eat for a bit, just savoring the meal, before Roman breaks the silence.
“So what did my son tell you about our family business?”
I chew and swallow slowly.
“Not a lot. I knew you guys had a bunch of clubs and bars because Anthony even brought me to a few, but he didn’t say much about the other stuff.”
“Really?” Roman asks dryly. “Usually, my son is more than happy to mention that he’s intimately connected to the Genovese crime family.”
I nod slowly, playing with my mashed potatoes.
“Well yes, I suppose he mentioned it but I didn’t take him seriously because you know how Anthony likes to embellish. I figured it was just more of that: hype, and nothing else.”