Roxana

For the whole three hours of the flight, I was certain it was Stefano's men who captured me again. I was also positive I would get at least one teeth-clattering slap and probably some more honouring after reaching the villa.

In a way, it was not bad, because I know that if Ivan had gotten me first he most certainly would have tortured and killed me. Picture lengthy torture where all your limbs get torn out or broken first. I think about it and feel sick. I am so sorry, Dani. There are no words to express how much. I promise he will pay for it and for that, I need to stay alive.

Currently, I am thinking of suffering through the year with Stefano and using the money to get my revenge. The fact that there is still Vitali who will want some cash is another problem, just as pressing, because there is still Kary, aka the only person I have left. I told her to leave Switzerland and go hide, to never talk to me again, to go to the police, to do everything just to not die and I feel awful because I fucked up her life. See poor Kary, trying to help people and getting shit in return; nobody can tell me life is fair.

The small Cessna plane is rattling with turbulence. Maybe I die earlier than expected.

It looks like my time didn't come though. We land in Italy, according to what language people are speaking but something is different, the landscape, the buildings and I don't recognize anybody. In theory, Tomaso should come and pick me up, unless he got punished.

I get shoved into a car and we drive hastily on busy streets but it's not Catania, Taormina or Palermo. Then it hits me when I see in the distance the silhouette of the Colosseum. We are in Rome. But why? Is Stefano here?

In half an hour we enter an underground garage and I get shoved out of the car and brought into a small room that looks very strange. There is some old blood on the floor and walls. It cannot be good. Roxi, come on, there is no possibility for stuff to be good, didn't you learn it by now?

Music sounds in the distance, very faintly. Strange. After some waiting, heavy steps thunder in the hallway.

An old man enters the room. I don't know him at all but the air gets thicker with the unspoken, authority he exhales. 

His clothes are very elegant and so is his mannerism. The navy blue suit he is wearing is tailored perfectly and ironed with precision. In his left hand, he is holding a cane with a silver handle in the shape of an eagle's head. When I look longer at his face it appears vaguely familiar but I can't remember where I saw him before, probably in the mob gathering. 

One thing is clear, we are not in Kansas anymore, meaning this is certainly not Stefano I am dealing with right now. Mobster number four?

"Signorina Ceban, a pleasure meeting you," he says in heavily accented English.

Oh, I am famous. Now joke apart, why does he know who I am? I am a nobody. 

"And you are...?"

"Lorenzo Medici-Ricardi."

"Oh, like the guy from old age that sponsored Michelangelo? That's a name."

He shows the ghost of a smile on his thin lips.

"Indeed."

"Well, how can I help you, sir? You took on quite some trouble to get me here and assure you I can't paint for the life of me. So, why? If there is nothing I can help you with I'll rather go. Respectfully." 

"Don't be impatient. A maid will bring you some clothes. I want you to shower because you smell awfully of gasoline and sweat, and dress in the clothes that you will be given and after that, you will be brought to meet someone. I advise you to be extremely compliant to his wishes."

That sounds good, not perverted at all, sir.

"And what do I get if I am... very compliant?"

"You stay alive."

Mkay.

"Understood?"

"Yeah. I am very good at being compliant."

"Very well. We will talk more in the future."

And so he leaves. Soon after, as he said, a maid comes and leads me to a regular room, not one that looks like a dungeon, where I shower and put those clothes on. I might have said that Chiara's dress was skimpy, but now this old pervert gave me a red transparent lace gown that leaves absolutely freaking nothing to the imagination, not even all the collection of scraps, scratches, and bruises acquired the past days.

I even get makeup and perfume and I am advised to try to look my best. Mhm, every girl wants to look her best in such a situation.

After that, I am again led along the hallways to yet another room. I feel awkward since the few bodyguards I meet on the way can't help looking. Well, enjoy the pep show, boys...

In the corner of my eye, I see the dangerously sexy girl from the party. Oh. So it's her estate? And it's her I might have to interact with.

"Here. It's aaah... Birthday." The servant girl gestures to a door and hands me a champagne bottle that looks expensive and two glasses. Maybe I can get drunk with the birthday girl.

I step inside confident that there will be nobody and turn around to freeze in place. 

My freaking God. I stare at Marco and almost drop the bottle. He is lying on a bed wearing a half-unbuttoned shirt and a somewhat wondrous expression.

I swear I don't know what I feel. It looks like he bought me off to have a little fun just like Stefano. How naive you were, Roxi. Am I going to be fucked again against a window with Stefano and half the staff watching so that he can prove he can?

The silence is getting too long, too odd; say something.

"I, I think I am supposed to sing Happy Birthday Mr. President, or some crap like that." My voice is shaky.

He doesn't answer just stands up from the bed and walks slowly towards me; his gaze is trying to avoid my body but it's not really working. Stupid dress, nobody can look away, it seems.

"Roxi... I... May I?" he says, stretching out an arm to touch my face but waiting for me to say something.

I have been told to be very compliant...

"Sure. You can do whatever you want to me."

He frowns and lets the arm down.

"How...?"

"How what? How I got here? I was invited politely under laser light to follow. Why? You tell me. But I guess you want us to fuck."

I feel the blood in my veins slowly starting to boil. All the anger that I have suppressed in the past few days is surfacing.

"How do you want it, sir? Against a window, so everyone can watch or should I get down on my knees first?" I ask quite spiteful not even trying to temper the tone and kneel down moving my hands to his belt and untying it while I look up smiling rather oddly.

"Roxi, stop this! Stand the fuck up!" He grabs my elbows to lift me to my feet.

I look at him annoyed and walk a step back.

"I know you are angry and I understand; everyone in your position would feel angry, and ...frightened and I cannot even begin to imagine what else."

Oh, you have no idea.

"Well sir, I was very strongly advised to be very compliant to your wishes. So what do you want? I suppose I am not appealing enough for sex."

He rolls his eyes slightly. Asshole.

"Let's start with this, put some clothes on; this thing you are wearing is disturbing. Sit on the bed and let's try to talk. Okay?"

"What clothes, sir? And do I look that appalling?"

"Ah come on, you know that's not it. I just don't want to get a very awkward and terribly misplaced hard-on. Take your pick from the closet and cut the sir crap," he says, pointing to the dressing room.

Okay, well. Now I am confused about what the fuck we are doing here but at least I can get dressed.

The dressing room is huge and has lots of clothes in it, all very expensive and most of all not all black. I pull out a grey shirt, button it up, and sit obediently on the edge of the bed.

He sits on the opposite edge and looks at me with a sad smile.

"Now tell me what happened. How did you get in business with Stefano and why? As far as I understand you didn't come here by your own will so another important question is if you want to go back."

"Are you fucking kidding me, you perv?! Well yeah, I will have to go back eventually because I signed a long compromising document where I sell my soul and need the damn money but no, I am not part of the people that like to be hit and fucked while everyone is watching and passed around to friends when you get bored. You are all sick and insane. I, in my mental numbness, never asked what you are doing for a living thinking it was something remotely normal and you see where it brought me. What a fucking idiot I was ..."

"Roxi... I am so awfully sorry. I really tried and I told you to stay away from Stefano. Why didn't you?"

"Because I had no other damn option," I scream and the tears start rolling.

He stands up and walks over putting his palm on my trembling shoulder.

I am still angry, so so angry, and the touch is burning so I move my shoulder away aggressively. 

"Don't fucking touch me."

He sighs and retracts his hand.

"Look. If you talk to me I might be able to help you."

"And what do you want in exchange? A year of my life, two, five? I am kind of not interested. It's been my life for too long, sucking it up hoping the problems will be solved if I am a good girl, work, and pay my debts. But guess what? No. It's a god damned snowball that keeps growing and sucking out the life and joy of you till there is nothing left. And yes I am at the point where there is nothing left."

Again a sigh and a frown and his pleasantly plump lips are pressed into a thin line. He is very attractive, I have to give him that. Maybe I could enjoy even the BDSM-flavored sex. Okay, you are definitely losing it.

"God knows I am not a good person and I did really awful things in my life but I am honest when I say that I don't want you to hurt. I am not a hero but I think at this point in my life I have means and ways to help you if you talk to me and tell me what you need."

"Okay your highness, a million fucking euros. Can you just gift me that? If yes, go ahead. Then I will slowly reduce the number of people that want me dead."

"I think that can be arranged. Now calm down; let me get you a tissue."

Ok, let's try to think straight: we are here in a very expensive house surrounded by expensive things; even if it didn't look like it at first it is possible that he does have money. He does not want sex or a baby which is a plus in comparison to Stefano, but the killing spree that I witnessed does make him damn frightening. Death is however not something I fear anymore.

He hands me a paper tissue and I blow my nose loudly and profusely unsexy.

"Okay fine. Gimme one million but I need it till the end of the week."

"Good."

"What do you want in return?" I ask nonchalantly. Or so it sounds, what it actually is, is so drained nothing matters anymore.

"For you to answer some questions but it does not have to be tonight; you are clearly traumatized and need professional help. We can see to that. For the time being, you can try to sleep. I will call for a sleeping pill for you. Okay? "

"No, I don't want to take pills from unknown sources."

"Okay fine. Just lay down and try to sleep; I will see to everything in the morning."

Everything is so strange. I lean on the bed reluctantly and look at how he is slowly unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, I wear half of a smoking; it's uncomfortable to sleep in. Don't worry, I won't touch you. I am going to sleep on this sofa over here. See... far away. Probably not really sleeping; I doubt I will be able to. It's obvious you are afraid of me and I understand. You don't need to fear; I don't want to sleep with you. "

Suddenly I feel a bit lighter and my eyes wander on his naked torso. He's definitely very attractive.

"You don't? A few weeks ago it looks as if you did," I say and the corner of my mouth twitches up a tiny bit.

"I do, I mean I do and I don't right now because it feels wrong. Why are you doing this to me?" he says smirking back and the idiot in me feels as if it's lighting up the damn room.

"By the way, it's good to see a glimpse of you back, Pebbles."