“Something funny?” Sebastian asks, not looking up from his screen.
“Just Rory checking in. Nothing more scandalous than usual.” I reply, sending her a quick thank you and promising to send her endless pictures and updates.
Sliding my phone back into my bag, I cross my arms over my chest, leaning my head against the soft leather seat. I takea moment to appreciate Sebastian’s features. They’re anything but cute or soft, but he is still the most attractive man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Over the past several weeks, I’ve kept myself from studying him as much as I could, but that hasn’t been as effective as I’d hoped.
I haven’t missed the way his dark brown eyes pierce straight through me every time they meet my gaze, like a hunter honing in on his prey. Or the way he keeps a small dagger tucked into the waistband of his pants along his back, in case of emergencies, I'm sure. I haven’t missed the tension he carries in his shoulders, as if he’s constantly holding the entirety of the world on his back, never resting for even a moment because who knows what might befall him if he does.
He drops his phone in his lap. His long fingers flex, the ‘VITA NERA’ tattoo inked across his knuckles flashing in the moonlight. I want to trace every inch of ink on his skin, map it all with my fingertips. I want to know this man inside and out. But something tells me it will never be that easy.
“Will you tell me where we’re going?” I ask, feeling like I’m begging for morsels.
“To my home. Villa di Arsenio.” He replies very matter-of-factly, as if it’s normal to address property so formally.
“Your home has a title?” I press, but he just smirks.
“My home has a great many things, Bambina. I will show you when we arrive. Be prepared though. It may be a little more…vast…than you’re accustomed to.” His expression gives little away, but I’m even more confused now than I was when we got on the jet.
“How vast are we talking here, Seb?” I ask, and a sharp gasp sounds from the front seat.
Sebastian meets Enzo’s eyes in the rear-view mirror, and the men share some unspoken conversation I’m not sure about. Did I say something wrong? Am I asking too many questions? I don’treally know the protocol for traveling with your not-boyfriend to foreign countries with no knowledge about who he really is, where you’re going, or what you’re gonna do there.
Enzo’s harsh gaze finds mine for only a second before Sebastian is holding a gun to his temple, even though he’s still driving the car. He swerves slightly, correcting himself quickly, and I gasp, not knowing how to process what’s happening in front of my eyes and how an innocent conversation turned into this so quickly.
“This I will say in English so it is crystal clear. Be careful with your eyes, Enzo. Before you lose them. You will show her the respect she deserves, or you will answer to me, captio?”
“Sì, capo. Mi scuso.” Enzo says, his expression morphing from hardness to one of respect instantly.Capo?
“Do not apologize to me. Apologize to her.” He points back at me, not removing the barrel of the gun from Enzo’s temple for even a moment. The man is fucking unhinged.
“I’m very sorry, I did not mean to offend you.” Enzo’s accent is thick, and he looks truly remorseful. I give him a nod in return, unable to speak a single word.
Maybe my initial assumptions about Sebastian weren’t far from the truth. What the fuck have I gotten myself into, and why did that make me want to fall to my knees for this man? He exudes power in a way I have never before seen in my life, and it is euphoric. He’s impossible to deny, impossible to ignore. I’ve been trying for weeks now with no success.
“Good. Now that we have that cleared up. Enzo will be in charge of your security while we are here in Italy. Should you need anything and I’m not around, Enzo will be there.” he says so plainly, like bodyguards are a regular occurrence in everyday life.
“La proteggerai come se fossi me. Se le succede qualcosa, la pagherai con la vita.” He speaks to Enzo, and whatever hesays makes Enzo’s eyes widen before he nods his understanding sharply. I don’t speak Italian, but I can use my context clues well enough to understand he said something aboutpaying with your life.
“I’m going to have to learn some Italian if I want to keep up around here.” I joke. Sebastian smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“But it’s so much easier for me to talk about you when you have no idea what I’m saying, Bambina” The bastard actually has the audacity to wink at me, and I wonder if all of this is one big dumpster fire and I’m holding the matches.
“Welcome to my world,” he whispers against the shell of my ear, and I swear I feel a tear slip down my inner thigh.
sixteen
We drivemiles outside of Rome, slowing every once in a while for Sebastian to show me landmarks as the sun rises across the beautiful countryside. We pass a beautiful nature reserve that he promises we can come back to sometime before my time here is through. Before I can ask him what else we can see, we turn onto a long driveway. We drive for nearly half a mile before coming to an entrance that feels more formal than any home I’ve ever seen, as though it requires reverence just to enter the grounds.
Tall stone pillars rise on either side of black iron gates, the stone softened by age and wrapped in thick ivy. Ornate ironwork tops the gate, intricate and old-world, more decorative than defensive, yet unmistakably authoritative. Even though they’re small, I don't miss the cameras tracking our movements as we pull closer to the gate. It swings open, and anxiety clenches in my gut. I’m not equipped for this kind of lifestyle. What the hell was Seb doing renting my shitty apartment when he lives like a fuckingkingat home?
“Don’t go there, Vanessa,” Sebastian interrupts my internal downward spiral, and I blink over at him.
“What do you mean?” I play dumb, masking my emotions.
“I can hear your mind spinning into overdrive from here. I’m surprised smoke isn’t pouring out of your ears by now.” The corner of his lips tip into a smile, and my shoulders relax slightly.
“How could I not be nervous? Do you see this place?” Pulling the edge of my bottom lip between my teeth, the thoughts in my mind shouting my inadequacies.
I don’t belong here.