Chapter 5
Lana's pov
I kept busying myself for hours, until 3 am. I made sure while I tip-toed down the hall till I reached the elevator that everyone is sleeping especially Freya, I kept looking down all doors for if there's any light indicating that someone is still awake, nothing.
I decided to take the stairs because elevators make little sounds, I am not sacrificing my plan to go to waste for, I quietly, barefoot, went down the dark red velvet-carpeted stairs down to the garage, I struggled a little for the many corridors I found and felt like I am in some sort of a maze, I finally found the cars, looked at them, then to the CCTV camera with its red light beeping,
SMAASH !
The golf club I grabbed minutes ago went down to the Lamborghini's windscreen glass, then quickly turning to side windows with all my strength, I kept on smashing its headlights and radiators. I ran to the red Porche and mercilessly did the exact same to it, a vehicle after another and another until I heard a loud, confident yell of my name, my damn name that rolled out of his tongue like no one has ever pronounced, in a way that makes my spine shiver in both pain and pleasure at the same time. I almost hated my name for the power it held on me.
I stopped while I gave him my back, I smiled to myself in triumph, I turned around slowly, never breaking my little smile and breathing heavily. To my surprise, his facial expression wasn't what I expected, it was calm with his steady eyes never leaving mine, I dropped the golf club at last on one of the cars, I stood there not moving a muscle.
And there he was, messy hair, wearing nothing but his pajama pants. His broad, muscled chest was bare appeared in a dark silhouette like a statue, his broad shoulders were toned down to the V-line of his torso, where his pants were low enough to show its full length and that was the sexiest thing I have ever seen.
Broken glass was everywhere on the floor, I realized then that I was barefooted and acted as if I don't care till, hopefully, he leaves. I saw that cocky smirk on his lips which gets on nerves every.single.time.
- Why did you stop, princess? there's a Bentley at the back.
I cursed him under my breath, trying desperately to think of something to say
- Aren't you gonna fire shit talk back at me? he chuckled.
- Or maybe because you're thinking of a way out? You know, someone invited slippers.
The fucker mocked me.
He, never breaking his eye-contact and confidently descended the three stairs until he reached me, I couldn't resist looking at him admiring a little longer his fitted figure..finally I was able to catch my breath, him inches away from me, I felt his body heat faintly warming me up, since I was just wearing my short black laced sleeping gown and it was cold in there.
He kept challengingly starring into my eyes, a moment of silence passed before my anger rose up again and in one fast move, I slapped his face as hard as I could, yet his head didn't move.
His eyes darkened and froze for a moment until his sharp deep voice echoed in the space,
- That's it.
He threw me on his shoulder hastily and moved to the stairs, ignoring my screams and hits which seemed pathetic to him, he kept his grip solid and painful for me to tolerate, which made my yells increase even more, we reached my room, only to shock that he didn't enter it and kept moving till we reached another one across from it, his room.
He let go of me after locking to door and I ran all the way to the other side of the room, his room was just like him, dark and cold. He had black painted walls, a king-sized bed with black and gray sheets, he had a reading corner, just like mine, by the floor-to-ceiling window, a walk-in closet, and a bathroom. Every piece of furniture was either black or gray.
The room was almost dark with only the lamp by his bed was on, and just in front of his bed, a LCD TV screen which had on all cameras in the house in full display, all halls, outside yards, the gate and the garage's cameras.
I saw a rifle hanging on the wall , a gun on the bed side table, and pistol besides the TV screen, the fact that I was there in his presence was terrifying.
I got distracted for a second, then I focused on him, preparing myself for his next move, his gaze was scary, like a predator waiting to catch his poor pray, I glued myself to the wall behind me and my voice cracked of all the yelling, but managed to threaten him,
- If you touched me, I will fucking kill you.
- Oh, you think it would be that easy ?
- I am warnin-
- SHUT.THE.FUCK.UP
I parted my lips and my heart almost stopped from fear and adrenaline kicked in me speedily.
He trapped me and put his hands tightly on my neck.
-I am sick of these childish games of yours, I won't tolerate this shit again, what are you 12?
I couldn't speak nor breath but he didn't let go of his hand, as if he was enjoying it.
-You better be a good girl, Lana. Trust me, the more you resist it, the more chances of getting absolutely no explanation, not a step out of your room, and certainly no access to anything you want...so use that Harverd Little brain of yours into something useful.
His grip loosened a bit, he whispered,
-Also,...
His rough palm grabbed my waist and suddenly slammed my chest to his ,not a single millimeter space in between, his hands went down to my right butt-cheek and squeezed it till a soft low moan escaped my lips and felt electricity down my spine, his gaze was filled with nothing but pure desire, his breath was hot and minty, I felt wetness down my panties, that made my thighs clench, he figured and added,
-I can touch you and no one could ever stop me, not even your wet pussy can resist my touch.
He buried his face in my neck without moving his lips in a teasing manner, my heat grew and my neck flinched in a wider angle, my own body is acting up against me !
-Not so fast, baby...you will have beg for me to touch you.
He released both of his hands slowly, and I gathered myself in seconds before I rushed to the door, my cheeks were burning and red as cherries, I closed my bedroom door behind me and caught my breath, what the fuck just happened ?
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Lorenzo's pov
Once she left the room, I took a cold shower, hoping my hard-on rod would ease out, images of her face kept passing by mind, washed them off as hard as I can.
I kept thinking how crazy can she go after this, not that I got pissed off, actually I felt proud. She's trying as hard as she could, proved me wrong on how I thought she'd be daddy's little spoiled girl.
Yet, the aura of her presence screamed submissiveness, she fought my orders, but I can still see how they affected her, she actually listened to them, she acted tough while she was on the verge of crying, her body language exposed her.
I laid on bed, stayed alarmed with the vivid memory of first time I saw her.
Five years ago, on the 7th of July, summer 2007.
Mattia called me after a long day at work, some shipments have been delayed, others were to urgent and had to be delivered on my watch.
Everything came in a rush that U couldn't sleep for 2 days in a raw, I had millions transferred into my bank account that made the government a little suspicious, but it went away when their failed investigations were held against me.
I leave no trace in any deal with the mafia that I do, nearly every three months, the Don of the Cosa Nostra, in Sicily needs more metal, that's the hidden deal that keeps me on my feet, what I feel myself in the most..other deals, public ones, with the military, good and string connections have been formed, weaponry business is both dangerous and safe.
Either you posses it, or you die.
My bisnonno, great grand-pa, was a Don himself, the Camorra mafia was powerful at the time, it controlled Sicily like no other, he reached the point of controlling the government not the other way around, he kept his hands on almost everything, while keeping the mafia's rules, which he made sure every member of the family during his life and the next ones embed through their gens,
"You must never betray any of the secrets of this Comorra . You must never violate the wife or children of another member. You must never become involved with narcotics."
These were his main rules, but he never mentioned police, he never was afraid to grimace his fangs on every policeman he ever met, the arrogance of his mind never proclaimed nor expected the fact that a young cop had convinced the prime minister with the perfect plan to end him, completely.
Luckily, my grand-pa was aware that disasters could happen any minute, to anyone, he made a safe plan-b to escort the family shielded and protected, but when the catastrophic day has come, the great Don Caruso, stood his grounds as a distraction to the police force, surrounded the mansion from every corner, while his son conducted the whole family through the secret tunnel underground, but at last when he came back, he saw the tragic scene when blood splashed on every corner of the main hall, all my great grand-pa's men were laying dead on the ground, their guns in their flat hands, he made no effort of finding his father, which he told us till the very last day he was alive.
His father's dead figure was leaning on the wall and stuck behind a wooden counter, as if he was still honorably standing, only for his blood dripping down his face, a military bullet broke through his skull, his trauma was severely turned into revenge, took him two years to build a mafia of his own, his old friends and relatives whom he relied on massively to go to an extremely violent war with the military, it was the worst years a baby could be born into.
Later, the war has ended after 20 years of bloodshed and thousands of deaths, innocent and inequitable ones.
My own father had resolved the issue, out of fear on my proud grand-pa..he feared he'd witness the same scene his own father experienced.
In Italian mafia, family is everything.
After my grandpa died peacefully, my father made an alliance with the government, till now everything is stable and in peace. But no can deny the fact that whatever happens, Mafia will always be Mafia.
Running this business was a smart suggestion from my father, only he couldn't make it happen, due to his poor knowledge about firm business and commerce. Which lead me to choose going to college, for four years in business administration major in University of Oxford.
Right after graduation, my life was back to normal.
Practices went well until I became the best marksman and eventually an expert with all types of weapons and that lead to being a weaponist.
Building a more powerful empire was the result I have been targeting since started this business, not a single human in Italy doesn't know me, parents use my name for punishments to their children with the brutal ways I kill criminals, I gained respect and fear, that's all I wanted. That's all I needed, or that's what I thought.
Not after seeing Lana in the art gallery that day in the Ca' Pesaro International Gallery of Modern Art in Venice, I was invited to watch a specific painting Mattia, my cousin, informed me to see for myself, he said he grantees that I would wanna buy it the moment my eyes lay on it.
He didn't say anything about the artist, he didn't even say the painting's name, he said "you'll know when you see it" . He has always been a tease, nothing new.
As I was passing by the artworks on the walls, people passing by, maybe a couple stayed in front paintings I was barely impressed about, I saw a crowd by the middle of the hall, two guys kept yelling at each other on who's gonna buy it, I saw people taking photos of the painting, security guys shouting " taking photos is not allowed ma'am", curiously I headed to the throng of people, people started whispering my name and remote themselves out of the way, until my vision become clear, my pupils dilated at what my eyes just witnessed, the most beautiful and outstanding piece of art I have and will ever see.
"A peace treaty with the devil", at the center, a beautiful angel tied in ropes with thorns penetrating its shimmering skin, blood dripping from its wounds, a man across from her, whom represented the devil, was offering his hands to her, with cold eyes, a signed-looking contract was in his other hand, it represented the offering of the small crowd of men behind it, a vague crowd with lots of blood on their faces. The angels eyes was the perfect part of the painting's, dazzling, tearful big eyes begging for mercy. Lastly, I noticed the little black signature at the right bottom of the painting went, LANA.
I fell in love with the painting that haven't noticed the crowd taking pictures of me admiring it for the past ten minutes, until I looked down to my left where my assistant, Marco was waiting for his next order.
I waited for him to get me the artist, but he returned alone after a while.
Only for him to tell me, the artist is busy with an expected buyer, I made him show me the way to her, no one is gonna buy that painting except me.
I saw the back of tall, thin man was blocking the view of the woman he was talking to, I kept waiting for him to leave. But he only moved to the side a bit for me to see who's he talking to, I gazed at the most gorgeous, beautiful face I have ever seen in my entire fucking life, her wide eyes were chocolate brown, her full lips were in dark crimson red, her black hair flowed perfectly around her shoulders, her figure was petite and curvy, she was wearing a black little velvet dress that hugged her curved and showed her silky tanned legs with beauty marks all over them, she was holding a glass of champagne with a hand and her other ran through her hair for it to fall on her forehead smoothly, I wanted to watch what she just did on repeat, that was sexy.
She was talking to the man, who seemed disappointed. She must have refused to sell the painting to him. So I made no move. I wasn't gonna embarrass myself, but I am gonna hang that painting on my bedroom wall, only for me to admire it.
Marco told me, she's Salazar's daughter, Now isn't the right time to talk to her.Definitely not the right time, But for five years, I have been waiting, for five years I have been longing, for five years I have been following her, only for the right moment to come.
So I decided,
Sooner or later that painting will be mine.
Sooner or later that girl will be mine.
Now both of them, are in my own house.