I'll Do Anything (The Challenge Night Series Book 1) Page 3

  “Let’s go.” He demands, holding out his hand for me.

  “Can I have my shoes?” I point to my still bare feet.

  Lorenzo pulls my purse from under his seat and grabs my heels from out of it. He hands me them but keeps my purse with himself, until the man with the blonde hair takes it from him. The man with the brown hair follows behind him, getting off the plane, unbothered.

  “I’m not getting that back, am I?” I ask as I put on the shoes, I’d rather not be descending a plane in.

  “Not for a while. Let’s go.” Lorenzo is impatient, waiting for me to move my feet.

  My hand is pulled into his and he’s dragging me behind him. He doesn’t hold it as tight as he held my arm at the hospital. He smells like he’s showered, but that seems unlikely; the plane didn’t seem big enough to have a shower onboard.

  The sun pours into my eyes and I’m squinting as soon as I see it. It was 3am when I last saw a clock in the hospital. It must be close to 6pm with the height of the sun lowering itself to the middle of the sky.

  The airfield is essentially empty, again. A matte black Maserati SUV with tinted windows is sitting a few feet from us. The blonde man is filling the trunk with a few bags while the brown-haired man is moving into the driver seat.

  “Where’s Isabella?” I ask Lorenzo as he opens the back passenger side door and ushers me in.

  “She’s an assistant. I don’t need her today.”

  My door shuts loudly. Lorenzo is in the seat next to me in a matter of seconds.

  “Where are we?” I ask, looking out my window.

  The flight had to have taken nine hours at least. I’m so bad with time differences and distance, I could be anywhere.

  “Italy.” He doesn’t look at me when he replies.

  Of course, where else would the Italian mobster take you? You were already in New York.

  The blonde man shuts the trunk and climbs into the passenger seat in front of me. The car starts moving before he even buckles. I get a better look at them. Brown haired man is a little scruffy, probably older. He’s broad and tall and has really dark brown eyes. Blonde haired guy is the shortest, but still probably at least 6ft tall. His eyes are a deep blue void like a scary ocean and none of them smile. They seem uncomfortable or just preoccupied. I can’t tell who’s in charge because they all radiate the same amount of big dick energy. It’s suffocating.

  “I don’t even have a passport.” I whisper.

  “Why would you need a passport?” Lorenzo chuckles to himself.

  My neck is stiff and I grab it with both of my hands to massage it. I sigh and tilt my head to each side hoping to stretch it as much as I can manage.

  “You know, to leave and return to the United States without being arrested; like a normal person.” I huff.

  The two men in the front let smiles creep on their faces like I’ve made them laugh.

  “I don’t have any other clothes, or shoes for that matter. I need to shower.” I’m rambling as if he doesn’t know everything I just said.

  “You’re pretty impatient for someone who could be dead rather than uncomfortable.” He is looking at me now.

  “I could have killed you too.” I mumble, not quietly enough.

  “You could have shot me; your hands were shaking too much to have put me down.” Lorenzo informs me like he’s my marksmanship coach.

  “I have fast hands; I could have shot at least twice.” I try not to grin at my own remark. “But yeah, I’ve never had a gun held at my husband's head. I would have been calmer with it at mine.” I spit back, with less humor intended.

  “You would have enjoyed that too much, love.” He grins.

  I look away from his gaze. My cheeks are red again and I can feel it. My head is starting to hurt from so much whiskey and I just want to lay down in a bath and wake up from this nightmare. I can’t stop thinking of questions to ask; questions he won’t answer.

  “Are you going to tell me anything yet? Like what I’m supposed to be doing here? I still have no idea what I am walking into and I hate being unprepared. Am I supposed to be an assistant like Isabella or something? I can only be good at what I’m supposed to do if you tell me, you know.” I look back at him reluctantly.

  The man with the blonde hair chuckles a bit and Lorenzo hides a smile. The older man with brown hair just drives, he stays silent.

  “You’re just mine. That’s all you need to know right now.” Lorenzo says, like it somehow should be reassuring.

  “Yours? That’s not very specific.” I scoff.

  “Yes. Mine.” Lorenzo starts typing into his blackberry again. “Your divorce will be finalized when the idiot wakes up.”

  My mouth drops open.

  “That’s not even possible, you can’t get a divorce that quickly.” I challenge.

  “Wanna bet?” Lorenzo’s eyes shoot to mine. “Careful love, the stakes are high.” He warns.

  My body chills, he’s sort of terrifying. I’ve never been one to crack under pressure, but he might make me fold. I have no idea what to expect from him.

  “Why do I need to be divorced?” I question rather than taking the bet with unknown boundaries.

  “You can’t be married to two men at once, surely you know that.”

  My heart skips, time stops, and everything freezes for a moment.

  My mouth is dry and the car goes silent.

  "You’re trying to marry me?”

  My ears feel hot and I can’t stop looking at him. He won’t return my eye contact again.

  “I’m not trying to do anything. We’ll be married by next month.” Lorenzo sets down his phone and looks at me with dark eyes.

  “Why?” I breathe, trying not to choke.

  I seriously don’t understand. He’s clearly powerful, wealthy, terrifying, and dead sexy, why on earth does he want to marry me? Is this about my dad? Or Gus? Why won’t he tell me what is going on.

  “Anything.” He reminds me.

  Chapter 4: Dominare

  I’m relieved that I’m not supposed to be some sort of servant or sex slave to him. But I’m terrified at the same time. I only know this man's first name, and that he’s met my father.

  I also know that I am all too willing to follow his every order. Whether I was scared into obedience or curious enough to be docile I can’t figure it out.

  Thirty minutes later we pull into the huge driveway of a Palazzo style mansion. The grass and hedges make the deepest green art surrounding the structure. It must be at least four floors with a single floor that looks like an arch, connecting it to other parts of the home. The home is a bright cream white color but the rooftops are a burnt orange color. I stare at it from my window only until I hear my door click open.

  The man with the brown hair opens my door for me and holds his hand out to help me down. I take it reluctantly. It’s callused and warm.

  “Thank you, um?” I ask searching for something to call him.

  “Gio is fine, signora.” He lets go of my hand as soon as my feet find their balance.

  The blonde-haired man starts to walk into the building with my purse and other bags. “What do I call him?” I ask Gio.

  “Luca.” He informs me as Lorenzo takes my hand.

  I don’t pull it away. I want to, but I don’t. My heels click against the payment and then against the tiles and I’m pulled further into the home.

  It’s completely breathtaking. High ceilings, crown moldings, white and cream colored walls and modern tile floors. Though, I can’t see much as he rushes me along.

  “It’s beautiful.” I whisper.

  “It is.” Lorenzo confirms.

  He pulls me into an elevator just left of the grand entryway. He’s silent and I’m silent. We go up two floors and he keeps his hand on mine. I don’t know why he feels the need to keep touching me, I can’t really run away.

  “This way.” He starts to pull me again.

  There’s only one set of doors to the left, and one set of doors to the r
ight in the entire hallway. We go to the right. The doors swing open and my mouth falls open along with it. I let go of his hand, stunned.

  “This is your room.” Lorenzo walks further into the most exquisitely feminine master bedroom I have ever seen.

  Pale pinks cover the walls in different textures. Gold fixtures are planted along the walls sporadically, yet somehow organized. It is the most sophisticated well-designed room I could imagine. In the center of the back wall, a massive bed in the shape of a circle was decorated with throw pillows of pink and white shades. The room is bigger than the first apartment I stayed in back home.

  “This is my room?” I repeat him, dumbfounded.

  He sighs and takes my hand again bringing me further into the room until we stop at a pearl white door with a gold handle.

  “And this is your bathroom.”

  A walk-in shower with glass doors encompasses the entire back wall. A pure white, deep oval tub sits parallel to a double set of sinks and a large mirror is plastered above them. The shower is lined with marble but the floors are light-colored wood.

  I stare at it until my hand is pulled away again. Another white door stands a few feet away, the same gold handle was at its edge.

  “This is your closet.”

  Lorenzo opens the door and I’m presented with what must be a prank. The closet of a Kardashian is in front of my face. Pale matte grey drawers and cabinets with mirrors on them, endless shelves of shoes. Clothes, shoes and accessories are stocked in every part of it.

  “Did someone else use to live here? Whose stuff is all of this?” It’s the only question I can manage to make myself ask.

  “No. Everything was put together while we were on the plane.” Lorenzo stands against the closet’s door frame holding on to the top of it with both hands.

  He looks ridiculously God–like, I try not to stare.

  “How did you buy me clothes? You don’t know what size I wear.” I ask, moving further inside of the closet looking around at everything, opening doors and drawers.

  “Your shoes were in your purse, remember? And I checked your tags while you slept. Caterina, my in–home assistant bought them a few hours ago.”

  “You checked my tags?”

  “You’re welcome.” Lorenzo tells me like I owe him.

  “Can I shower now?” I don’t say thank you.

  “Yes. Do your hair and makeup after, and wear one of the formal gowns. We have a little over an hour before we need to leave.”

  “Curly or straight?” I raise my chin in question.

  I want to ask where we’re going, why I’m going and about a million other questions. Instead, I keep myself calm and almost playful. I’m not going to get anywhere with him if I keep annoying him. I need to know what he knows about James; I’m keeping him alive by being here and I don’t have a clue why he is supposed to be dead.

  “Either. I’ll be back in forty-five minutes. Be ready.” Lorenzo leaves casually.

  I do as I’m told. I make my shower quick despite wanting to let the water fall over me for hours. There is shampoo, conditioner, hair products, makeup, and a blow dryer in a cabinet next to my sink.

  I lather my hair with leave–in conditioner, a curl serum that looks like it costs more than rent, and then use the blow dryer and diffuser to dry my long locks. My hair spilled around my shoulders and onto my back. I keep it simple with a middle part and tame any frizz with some special cream.

  In the cabinet there are drawers filled with Chanel, Dior, and Giorgio Armani products. Products I would never buy for myself. I make good money, and I could afford to splurge if I wanted to. But it always seemed far too unnecessary, my Mac cosmetics and Nars staples work just fine.

  I put on a basic face of products; foundation, concealer and bronzer. I give myself a delicate light brown eye-look with some wet shimmer on the lids. I add mascara and a pair of wispy lashes and then a coat of clear glass. My face looks better than it ever has in a natural makeup look.

  Maybe the price is worth it.

  Once my makeup is set into place, I go searching for a dress. Lorenzo told me nothing about where he was taking me, other than it was formal.

  I decide on a dark red V-neck gown with a high slit up to the middle of my thigh. It hugs my waist and has sleeves that make my arms feel secure. The cleavage is a bit more than I would normally go for, but it makes me feel hot. I should feel more on edge, I should be surveying my surroundings, but I only have an hour. I pick out a diamond tennis bracelet and a matching necklace that is simple and shiny. I found similar earrings and put them in as well.

  There’s an alarm clock near my bed that informs me I have five more minutes. I slip into a pair of matte blood red Louboutin’s and look at myself in one of my closet’s mirrors.

  I look happy, why am I smiling? I look amazing, but I’m supposed to be sad or mad or angry. I seriously need to go back to therapy. I’m an emotionless void. Just get through the evening Kate.

  My bedroom door opens and Lorenzo steps inside; my mind races, looking him over.

  Oh my god. Shit. He’s literally dripping in sex. I’m starring, stop it.

  Lorenzo is dressed head to toe in black. No tie, with three buttons left unbuttoned. His sleeves aren’t rolled and he’s wearing a gold chain with a simple cross in the center of it. The only other color on him is a gold watch. His shoes are a black and embellished with a bumpy texture. He’s pants are tapered and his belt is all black as well. Only one side of his shirt is tucked all the way into his pants. If I didn’t already know he was some sort of gangster this would make me extremely suspicious.

  “Is this dress, okay?” I ask in case I need more time to change.

  He sighs, like he hates the question.

  “It’s great, but you need to wear this too.”

  Lorenzo strides over to where I’m standing just outside of my closet. His shoes make a small tapping noise as he approaches me. He hands me a small black box.

  I open it and realize I should have known what it was. A large circular diamond ring with a skinny band coated in small diamonds takes my breath away.

  “Why?” Is the only word I can say.

  “We’re engaged Kate. You need to wear that tonight while you meet my family. They are expecting to finally meet you.” Lorenzo tells me as if it should be obvious.

  “Finally meet me?” I gulp, looking back down at the massive ring.

  What?

  “Look. Here’s how it’s going to go.” He sighs and sits on the edge of my bed. “We’ve been together for six months, fell madly in love and I convinced you to pack up your life and move here to marry me.” He looks at me, gagging my comprehension, but then keeps talking. “You’re not Kate Manner anymore, you never really were.” He scoffs, shaking his head like my identity offends him. “You’re using your real name; Katherine Garcia is how you will introduce yourself to everyone you meet tonight.” He’s instructing me like I’m a child.

  “What do they know about me? How did we meet?” I’m not fighting him; I need to earn his trust. I don’t trust him, but he needs to trust me.

  “They don’t even know your name yet. I told them I kept you to myself for as long as I could. They know we met in New York while I was on business.” I start to slide the ring I’m given onto my ring finger, remembering that my wedding ring is in my purse.

  My heart hurts.

  “Okay. Uhm, I don’t even know your last name. Shouldn't I know that? Or like, what’s your favorite food?” I spray a few spritz of Chanel perfume on my chest and wrists after I ask.

  “Vitale. If she asks, you can tell my mother I’ve mentioned how much I love her Parmigiana to you. Is that all?” Lorenzo stands up from my bed and stands close to me. Close enough to smell the overwhelming vanilla and oak cologne he’s wearing. Close enough to make my skin heat.

  “I don’t know. Is there anything else?” I keep my eyes on his. A silky piece of damp hair is hanging in between his eyes and the tattoos on his neck are making m
e sweat.

  I shouldn’t be attractive to this man.

  “Speak Spanish to anyone who greets you in it. Don’t try to ask for help, they wouldn’t help you even if they knew why you were really with me. Got it?”

  “How do you know I speak Spanish?” I press.

  “Diego wouldn’t let his child be raised in any other language.” He tells me with confidence in his voice that sends shivers down my neck.

  I speak perfect English and I try to keep my accent at bay, but he’s right. I spoke Spanish first; my father rarely spoke English. When I left Gus, I didn’t speak Spanish much any longer. I loved connecting with my family in my language, but everything touched by him became tainted quickly.

  “Time to go.” Lorenzo looks down at his watch and takes my hand.

  His hands are rough with scratches but somehow sort of smooth. I let him take my hand without protest and he takes me to the elevator.

  “Where does my family think I am?” I ask as he pushes the lobby button. The only family I have left is my mother and a few close friends. “My work will want to know where I am.”

  “You resigned yesterday.” My heart aches as I hear the words. “You left James after you made sure he was alive. You found out he had been cheating on you.” Lorenzo tells me as we hit the ground floor.

  “Has he?” I raise an eyebrow.

  “Forget about him tonight. If you do well, I’ll answer some more questions.” His hand squeezes mine a tiny bit and I’m being walked towards the exit.

  Chapter 5: La Famiglia

  “Woah.” I mutter as we pull into what looks like it could be a palace. It’s a mansion like Lorenzo's home but it’s bigger and more chic. “What is this place?” I’m scanning the building, taking it all in.

  The mansion is white with gold accents, several stories high and the driveway is a loop with Valet attendants.

  “This is my parents’ house.” Lorenzo gets out of the car and Gio opens my door for me.

  I thank him with a nod and wait for Lorenzo to take my hand again. He does.