The Woman in the Trunk - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,40

as possible. You haven't been blindsided by anything yet."

That was true to a point.

Thus far, the only surprises that had come my way had been ones I had brought upon myself.

For a kidnapper, he had been overall pretty decent except when I had provoked him. And even then, he hadn't actually hurt me.

"Making sure I have food and clothes to wear isn't exactly in the same league as pleading for my life," I reasoned.

"I won't have to plead for shit," he said, rolling his eyes at the very idea. Because big bad millionaire mafiosos never had to plead for anything, I guess. "I would appeal to my father's strongest desires."

"And what desires are those?"

"Fear and money," he said, immediately, not needing to give it any thought. "The more people shitting themselves at the mention of his name, the happier he is. And killing you two won't do anything for his bottom line. Keeping you on the books and squeezing you for more cash, that will."

"We don't have more cash, Lorenzo. I don't understand why that is so hard for you guys to grasp. I guess because you've never had to borrow from the food bill to pay the light bill. But there is nothing to squeeze out of us. There's almost nothing left."

"We'll figure it out."

"I'm sorry but that isn't much of a reassurance. And there is no we. You and I, we are not a we. I will be in this on my own. You will be living in this ridiculous ivory tower, while I make myself cozy in a cardboard box behind the bakery."

"That's not going to happen."

"Oh, my God. Yes, it will. The only way I could pay you more would be if I stopped taking a salary. This is not rocket science. There is no more fucking money."

"Well, maybe you will just so happen to find yourself a wealthy client who has very expensive eclair tastes, and is willing to pay well for it."

"You're out of your mind," I said, rolling my eyes. "What? I'm supposed to believe that you are going to be my silent benefactor in some backhanded plot behind your father's back? What? For forever? Get real."

"Nothing is for forever, Giana. Someday, that position my father holds will be mine. And when it is, you have my word, that I will set you free from this family."

"Your word," I snorted, shaking my head.

"Hey," he growled, snagging my chin again, this time, his fingers nearly bruising they held on so hard, as he forced me to make eye contact. "I stand by my fucking word. You can doubt plenty of things about me, but you don't doubt my word. I wouldn't give it if I didn't mean it. We will work out our temporary fix. Until I can give you a permanent solution. You want it in writing, we can get it on paper."

"Right," I said, laughing. "Because some scribbled note from a mafia prince to some nobody baker will stand up in court."

"I don't like that."

"Being called a mafia prince?" I asked. "Well, too damn bad. I hate to break it to you, but that is exactly what you are."

"I don't give a shit what you call me," he said, shaking his head. "But don't call yourself nobody. You're a somebody."

"Really, in the grand scheme of things, I'm kind of not. I'm not bitter about it. But it is what it is."

"It is what it is," he repeated, gaze intense.

"Yeah. Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, brows pinching together, unable to read the look on his face.

"I didn't have you pegged as stupid," he said, his words making me jolt back.

"Stupid?" I repeated, letting out a humorless laugh. Stupid? Who the hell called anyone stupid outside of a schoolyard?

"Yeah, stupid. I didn't see that coming. A hard worker? Sure. A smartass? Yep. A royal fucking pain in the ass? Absolutely. Someone who would go down swinging before she'd ever beg for mercy? Damn fucking straight. But stupid? Yeah, never knew that was part of the whole picture."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, if you think you're a nobody, that people don't see you or don't appreciate you, you're a fucking idiot, kid. Truth hurts. Deal with it," he said, moving away to close and lock the window again.

"Um, excuse you, but who the hell do you think you are to call me stupid? I'm not stupid. I'm a realist. And the reality is, that if I was shot