Chapter Three
A/N: {edited}
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I had been staring at Luciano for quite some time, his question replaying over and over in my head – "Ears burning, Miss Crawford?" I didn't know whether the question was rhetorical or meant to be answered. Buying time, I bite my lip. I wanted to be careful about what I was going to say, knowing we were already on horrible terms.
My mouth fell open, but slowly closed. I had no idea what to say – something I never thought would happen. Back home, I always had a response – whether it was sarcastic or not. But here, in this very moment, I was speechless. I pursed my lips together, my chest rising and falling with every breath.
Fear filled my soul, I was afraid to move. I was afraid to do anything. I knew the man that stood over me was dangerous. He hadn't hesitated – even for a second – when he slapped me.
"Lady-" His voice brought me back to the present, my eyes focusing on the stubble on his chin as he ran a hand over it. I noticed his eye twitch slightly – was that a natural occurrence? Or did it only happen when he was upset? That was something I would have to find out later. "-Get your head off my carpet. I would prefer it white, not red." I frowned and shot up from my position on my back.
He stepped over me, causing me to duck – his thigh hitting me in the head on his way out. There was a bulge in the back of his pants – just above his ass, which was covered by his suit jacket; a gun.
So he's always armed; yay.
I pushed myself up off the floor, hoping to catch him. Speeding up my walk, I followed him as he descended down the marble stairs. "-Are you implying that my hair is dyed?" I took serious offense to this; my hair was my pride and joy. It was all natural and I was going to make sure this unreasonable, rude, condescending asshole knew that.
Luciano stopped on a dime as he hit the first floor, whirling around. I didn't notice till it was too late. I had already smacked into him. My head hit his chest, and I fell backwards; my ass smacking against the steps with force; that's going to hurt tomorrow. Luciano, however, didn't budge.
I watched as he slowly leaned down, his hands both resting on the steps above me, supporting his weight. His knees bent, almost straddling me when he spoke. "Are you talking back to me, Crawford?"
I swallowed hard. The demanding tone In his voice was back; his eyes searching mine. I shut my eyes quickly, fear overtaking me for only a second. Then I remembered that my mother didn't raise no bïtch. I opened my eyes and blinked rapidly, showcasing a smile, "Yes, I am talking back to you, does it make your dick shrink in size?"
He doesn't respond verbally, instead, he grabs his crotch through his dress pants and stalks off.
It took me a lengthy second to regain my composure.
Once I did, I headed towards the kitchen. The room itself was the size of my entire first floor at home. An island sat in the middle; six to seven matching stools surrounded it. Directly behind it, sat granite tops and all the kitchen necessities; a stove, oven, sink, and dishwasher. Off to the right was the biggest refrigerator I had ever seen and I was certain you could probably fit at least one male body in there – possibly two females. The thought made me shiver.
Pushed off to the very far right was a little sitting area, overlooking miles and miles of green grass. The table was made of wood – four chairs pushed up against it. It honestly looked like something you would find in the home of a rich family back in the mid 19 hundreds.
The room was empty as I stepped inside, heading straight towards the pancakes that sat on a plate on the island. I took a clean plate from beside them and put two pancakes on my plate.
"Finally!" I jumped and turned; William stood at the entrance, a plate of his own in his hands. He smiled, "I knew it took a while for women to dress, but damn-" I laughed. I hadn't even known him for a full day, but I was beginning to like Will. He seemed very down to earth and kind – making me wonder what on earth he did to get involved with a bastard like Luciano. "-oh, here, let me help you-" He strode over the table and set his plate of half-eaten pancakes down. He eased the plate of out my hands and turned. "You like syrup?"
I nodded, "Love it – anything sweet honestly," My eyes followed the dirty blonde as he made his way around the kitchen. He reached into a cabinet and poured the syrup on my plate.
"You like chocolate chips?"
"I love chocolate, period."
"Ever had it on pancakes?"
I shook my head no. I had been told on many occasions that it tasted like heaven on earth, but never had I tried it. Will's eyes almost popped out his head at my answer.
"Well your eyes will be opened today," He chuckled. I watched as he set my plate down and opened the kitchen door – his hand already reaching for a glass of orange juice. Finished, he handed me my plate and glass of juice. I accepted the food and stared at it, maybe a bit longer then Will would've hope. When I looked up, he had a crooked smile on his face. "It's not poisoned," A deep chuckle escaped through his lips. I laughed nervously.
"Look, Miss Craw- I mean, Faith," He sighed, "If we really wanted you dead, you already would've been dead already, okay?"
"We?" I licked my lips, "Or do you mean Liam? Because honestly, you and Luis – I'm not sure about the other guy – but you two... you don't seem like criminals." As I spoke, William guided me into what I assumed was the living room. A large plasma television was mounted on the wall, just above the stone outlined fireplace. A crisp, white sofa sat opposite, joined with two matching, plush chairs. The carpet, I noticed, was cream.
I cautiously sat on the sofa, my feet planted on the floor, my back arched. There was no way I was getting comfortable here. Once I was seated, William dropped in one of the single chairs, his nearly empty plate still in his hands.
The room was quiet; really quiet. There was no sign of Luis or Alex at all, making me frown. Will must've read my expression, and he pointed towards the two French doors, which were off to the side. "Luis and Alex are probably outside playing tennis-" He had to have noticed my bewildered look, and he continued, "-Luciano literally has everything you could imagine in this house. You'll love it here."
His last few words sent my appetite south. You'll love it here. How long will I be staying here, exactly?
I rested my plate down on the coffee table, my stomach doing all sorts of flips. I lifted my eyes off the floor and met his. "How long William? Nobody has given me any answers. I wake up in a fücking cell, some...some...hot-headed douche bag comes downstairs and knocks me out, I wake up in a bed, and now, today, you're telling me I'm going to 'love it here?'"
He looked defeated and confused.
"I overheard Luciano talking on the phone..." That got Will to sit up, his brows connecting. "-I overheard something about me being worth a lot of money . . . that two families want me . . ." I bit my lip and searched his eyes for anything; any hint, any answer, any clue . . . I needed answers. "Will, please-"
"Faith-" My name came out as a winded breath; almost as if he had been running, like he was tired. He leaned forward, his hands folded, his elbows resting on his knees. I scooted as close to the edge as I could get. "---over the past few years, three Italian families have risen to the top." he started, "Luciano is at the top; he's the youngest, the wealthiest, and probably the smartest. The two families that follow-up are the Corinelli's and the Costello's . . . If you know anything about the mafia, you know its centered around money and--"
"What about drugs?" I frowned. Thanks to my father, I had been educated mainly on the drug factor of the mafia; he said it was the leading factor.
Will laughed, "Yeah, like fifteen years ago maybe . . . Now-a-days, it's about anything that can give you money; whether that's drugs-" His index finger shot up, the others following as he counted off the list, "-sex-slaves or even— ."
"Is that what I'm here for?" My voice rose as I shot up from my seat. Heat rose to my face and the room started to spin. William shot up from his seat, his hands out in a defensive manner.
"No! Faith, shut up, if he hears you he'll-" Will's words came out as a ramble. It all happened so fast; one moment he was reaching for me, the next I was running. – or at least, I had started to. I hadn't even exited the room, Will right on my tail, when I ran into a wall. At least, that's what I thought it was.
"Whoa-" Will caught me as I stumbled backwards. My vision cleared within the next thirty seconds, allowing me to focus on what I had hit.
I groaned.
Liam Luciano was leaning up against the arch-ways frame, his arms folded neatly over his chest; a no-nonsense look etched his face.
"I am so sorry, Liam-" Was all the time Will had to say before he was cut off.
"Did you give her the tour of the house yet?" I couldn't get over his voice. It was rich and deep; it had a raspy feel to it. Under any other circumstances, I would've considered it sexy. But under these? It was annoying.
"No, I was about too, but-"
"She's still curious?"
Will nodded.
I watched as Liam pushed himself off the frame, turned, and continued his stride in the opposite direction.
The voice spoke once more, beckoning my presence. "Ms. Crawford, join me in a tour of the house." It didn't come out as a question, but as a statement.
I heard a soft, "Be careful-" from Will as I exited the room and picked up my pace, easing my way beside Liam. We now stood in a rotunda looking room; the front door just feet away. A chandelier hung high above, shining and shimmering in the light.
We turned down a hallway. It was bright and well lit; windows on each side. Outside on the right, I saw a swimming pool, tennis courts, and acres, acres, and more acres of land. Impressive. My lips fell open, ready to speak.
"-150 acres."
My lips closed; he had answered my question before I had even asked. I slowed my walk, allowing Liam to get a few feet ahead of me, giving me a clear view of the front of his house. Cars were parked in the massive driveway; a fountain slapped right in the middle of the paved street. Again, all I saw were acres, and finally, a fence.
The end of the hallway was met by two double doors. Without breaking stride, Luciano opened them both and kept on walking. I, however, stopped. The tips of my toes kissed the dividing line between the white tile in the hallway and the white carpet in the room. I shot a glance behind me and frowned.
There was no way in the world I was going inside that room. If Luciano closed those doors, there was no way anybody would hear me If I needed help. Sure, I didn't know exactly how much I trusted any of the other guys, but anybody was better than Luciano, right?
"This is my office-" Luciano's voice snapped me back to the present. I took a cautious step forward, my eyes taking in the surroundings. The room was entirely too large for a simple office. An oak desk sat up against the wall, a pile of papers stacked sky high. On my left was a sofa, a fireplace, and bookshelves.
I let my eyes drift, but I stayed cautious. I wasn't sure what Luciano was up too, but I was on high-alert. He walked straight towards his desk and sat down on the plush seat behind it. Slowly, I wandered towards the bookshelves, my eyes focusing on the books' title. I saw authors like Thoreau and Robert Frost. That's surprising, I scoffed. Unfortunately, my inward 'scoff' came out much louder than I thought, making Liam raise his head from whatever was in his lap. I spoke up. "Robert Frost?" My fingers brushed against the gold-embedded title, moving towards the next book. "Thoreau?" I turned, watching as Luciano leaned back in his seat; a glass tilted towards his lips.
"You sound surprised," He finally answered. I look over my shoulder, watching as he poured himself a drink. His attention was on the glass, watching as the liquid swirled around, filling his cup, "What did you think I read? Dr. Seuss?"
I snort and turn around, my fingers still brushing along the dust covered books. I lower my voice, "I do not like green eggs and ham! I do not like them--"
"Sam I am!" I turn back at the sound of Liam finishing the Dr. Seuss quote. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips and I swore I saw the hint of a smile as he lifted the glass to his lips.
I nod at the cup in his hand, "Apple juice?"
A fine mist shot out of Luciano's mouth. It was the first time in our three encounters that I had seen him lost composure. His hand covered his mouth as he sat doubled over in his chair. With his free hand, I watched him wipe his hand, then his mouth, with a tissue. He coughed into the napkin, looked up to me, and with a tone drenched in sarcasm, he says, "No, it was piss."
Liam stood up so quickly, his chair shot out from under him, banging against the wall. His jaw clenched, "Are you done with the questions?" He moves from behind the desk and begins approaching me, taking large steps in my direction.
I lean against the bookshelf, my eyebrows connecting, "No, no I'm not."
"Then please," he speaks, irritated, "ask whatever question you need and I'll answer, let's get this over with."
I shoot him a toothy grin, "My pleasure," taking a deep breath, I wait till he stops a few feet in front of me, before I close my eyes and begin, "Why the hell am I here?"
"No comment."
My eyes open and I glare, "That's not an answer."
"It is in my book," Liam makes a motion with his hand, "continue."
"Fine," I throw my arms across my chest and take two gigantic steps toward him. It was a risky move, that was for sure, but I was feeling brave. I lean my head back as our chests bump together and I lower my voice, "By this evening, my ass better be on the first thing smoking out of Chicago," I lift a finger, "preferably a plane and if I could, I would like to request first class seating. Thank you."
I tilt my head and march away from him, headed straight for the door. He waited till I rested a hand on the door to call me back. I look over my shoulder, watching as Liam shoved a hand in his pocket, a teasing smile nowhere to be found. "Ms. Crawford," he called out, "that wasn't a question."
"I know, it was a statement in my book."
I threw the office door open and stormed out. I stepped out into the brightly lit hallway, waiting to hear the door slam behind me. When it didn't, I glanced behind, only to see Liam standing in the doorway, his eyes following me. I don't know what it was, maybe it was the look he gave me, or the way he pushed himself from the door, giving him the momentum he needed to break out in a sprint. But no matter what it was, I ran.
Luciano caught up to me quickly, wrapping his large hand around my wrist and pushing me against the wall, between two glass windows. Air flooded out my lungs at the impact and I winced at the pain that flared up my back. He leans forward, his teeth grinding together as he spoke.
"Understand this," he speaks softly, but in a demanding manner, "you are not leaving. And the only plane you'll be getting on, will have my name engraved on the side."
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Authors Note: I want to thank everyone that has given this story a chance! Wow! Almost 400 hundred reads and 20 votes? It might not be a lot... but I'm screeching lol. Sorry for the late updatre! I am working out a good schedule; trying to balance school, homework, and of course, wattpad.
a/n: {5/18/2017} edited. I just thought I should keep the original author note above. 400 reads and 20 votes, now we're at 7M reads and 200K plus votes. That's absolutely incredible, so thank you all!
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