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“Tomorrow. Now, we feast.”
“I can go home?”
Ludovico laughed, the rich sound filling her chest.
“Home? No, Ragazza. My home is your home now. You will go where I go until I tire of you and either kill you or release you.”
“You’re sick.”
Ludovico crossed his arms over his chest.
“So I’ve been told. I’ve also been called callous, heartless, an asshole, a maniac, so on and so forth. You get the gist. I didn’t become head of this clan out of kindness.”
“Keeping me prisoner is illegal.”
Ludovico smirked.
“So is this,” he replied waving the sheet in front of her. “Or killing a man. Do I look like I care? Let’s go.”
He opened the door and invited her to walk in front of him. Gigi hung her head. Was there any way out of this? She had become a prisoner of a maniac. A man who threatened to kill her but fueled her desire at the same time. What was wrong with her? The elevator pinged. Ludovico inserted a key and pressed a button.
“I live in the penthouse. It’s easier to keep things under control if you’re here all the time.”
“Do you ever let go?”
“Let go?”
“Relax.”
He seemed thoughtful.
“No,” he finally answered. “Letting your guard down could mean death.” He paused. “You might have noticed my brother and I don’t get along very well.”
“I picked up on something,” she replied.
Ludovico sighed. “We used to be close as children, but as we grew older, my father started to favor me to take over the family business. Claudio was not pleased.”
“You must be so stressed.”
“Not at all.” The doors opened revealing a luxurious apartment. A panoramic view which stretched for miles was visible from the large windows. The floor was clearly Italian marble, contrasting slightly with the industrial iron chandelier.
“I have everything I need. Food, comfort, a bitch.”
“Love? Friendship?”
They moved further into the space, the transition almost seamless. The wrought-iron lamps gave off a warm light, illuminating a set of plush, designer black leather couches. The walls were egg white, colorful paintings hanging from them and accentuating the rest of the room.
“The love of the Ludovico family. We respect the hierarchy. That’s all that matters.”
“How do you know someone is not plotting against you?
“Oh, they are. They always are. That’s why I have a bodyguard. That’s why that man died in the alley.”
“He was charting against you?”
“He defied my orders.” Ludovico shrugged. “Take off your clothes.”
“What?”
