This song is somewhat related to the chapter, its really good tho...

Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting someone else to die.

And just now red hot poison was running through my veins. And I didn't know what to do with it, so I did the only thing I am good at. I let my anger burst out of me.

"HELL TO THE FUCKING NO!" I shouted. His expression remained the same as the amusement in his eyes grew more prominent.

"Oh I am sorry, did I sound like I was giving you a choice?" he asked placing his hand over his heart and putting up an expression of mock shock.

His voice calm as it has always been but his expression as sarcastic as it could get.

He was goading me and if I wasn't bedridden with stitches over my heart, I would've kicked his Italian ass back to Verona.

"Why do you fucking think that I would come live with you of all people?" I hissed my eyes trained on his face as he very leisurely opened and closed the Alcane Pocket knife that he had somehow slipped out of his jacket pocket. 

His eyes never meeting mine as his finger traced the sharpened blade of the silver weapon. Threatening me, no, daring me to defy him, just with one look.

"Are you threatening me?" I asked, shock and anger lacing my tone. 

I was seconds away from actually getting up and beating him black and blue single handedly, though I wasn't sure how much I would be able to beat him up.

His laugh that followed was not genuine, no, it was dark and humorless. Almost mocking and insulting me for even considering such a thing.

"No, dolcezza. If I wanted to threaten you, I wouldn't use a fucking knife." He spat out the word 'knife' with disgust lacing his tone.

And suddenly not even a second later I was face to face with the barrel of a gun and the click that followed told me that he had taken the safety off.

Fear seized me as my eyes widened for second. He wouldn't, would he?

The worst thing was the feeling that I wasn't sure that if he would actually shoot me or not. I looked up to see him standing over me, looming figure of pure, unadulterated sin and danger. 

His hands steady and unwavering as he pointed the gun between my eyes. Seeing the amusement in his eyes, the joy he got out of the thought of inflicting pain on me led me to come to a conclusion.

Yes, he would. He would shoot me and probably won't even feel remorse.

Lucca Santos had killed more people than I could care to count and something told me one more to the addition wouldn't affect him that much.

But again, contradicting myself, I felt that I somehow knew he wouldn't hurt me.

For some bizarre reason I believed this that he wouldn't shoot me, no matter what. Somehow I knew he was bluffing.

Was he capable of shooting me? Yes.

Would he feel remorse after shooting? Probably not.

But would he shoot me? For some unfathomable reason, I believed he wouldn't.

"You wouldn't." I said, hoping he won't detect the fear in my voice.

He sniggered lowering his gun and tucking it in the belt of his pants. Sitting back on the sofa chair again, he behaved as if nothing had happened.

"Yes, you are right. I wouldn't harm you in anyway. That is something you can be absolutely sure of. And I wouldn't spare anyone who would even think of harming you. But just now, I was demonstrating; if I wanted to threaten you, there would be a fucking bullet between your eyes before I would even begin to even talk to you." 

Lucca did not threaten people, he just killed them.

There was no sliver of chance for anyone who decided to go against him, so why me?

Now, I really wondered, just how many people have been at the receiving end of such 'threats'.

"I don't give a fuck, how you threaten other people. I am not fucking moving in with you." I hissed at him.

"Sorry to break your bubble, but you don't have a choice." His tone was flat, all humor gone as he stared at me with impassive eyes.

"Last time I checked this was a free country and so I get to make my own choice." I said, how dare he? I am NOT moving in with a criminal!

"Spare me the legal bullshit. I am doing this for your own safety, believe it or not-" he said, but I cut him off.

"Oh, trust me. It's hard to believe." I spat.

Why would he fucking care about my safety? We barely had a proper civil conversation up until Lia locked us in that fucking conference room. 

And see what happened after that? I got shot!

Ok, I know that it is not his fault I got shot, or is it?

"Is this your guilty conscience acting up?" I asked with as much disgust I could muster up. 

"Because if it is, spare me. I will be fine without you hovering over me 24/7, so you can go shove it-" I was immediately cut off by an exasperated Lucca.

"Oh, you think this is my guilty conscience? Spoiler alert, I don't have one! I am doing this because the fucking Russians are after you and you have a fucking target on your head. Your apartment? It is currently the most unsafe place for you. You can't go live there. The next and only safest place for you is with me, because those spineless assholes wouldn't dare do shit to me." he said, his eyes blazing with anger and exasperation.

"I could move in with Lia." I said, desperate to find a way out of this situation. no way in hell I was going to stay with a megalomaniac chauvinistic Italian

"And lead the Russians right to your friend and little sister, sure why not?" he scoffed and sat back down and began stroking his pocket knife again. 

"If you couldn't understand it by now, let me clarify it for you, those fuckers may have started keeping tabs on you, they could know your entire fucking schedule for all we know. But when they know that you live with me, they may back off." He said looking me in the eye.

"I could always book a hotel room for myself." I whispered just loud enough for him to hear me.

"And risk others around you? Aren't you coming up with the brightest ideas today?" his sarcasm was not appreciated.

I liked him more when he was silent and brooding.

No wait, I mean I hated him less then. I never liked him, never will. That's the one thing I am absolutely sure about.

Denial's a bitch, my subconscious commented. I ignored it.

I'll deal with it later, much later.

"He wouldn't risk exposure that way; I am sure the Russian Boss is not that stupid." It was now my turn to scoff and roll my eyes. "For some twisted, sick and unknown reason, you just want me stay with you, you ass-"

"Didn't you hear a word I told you about him? He is reckless and irresponsible. He will do whatever he can do to get what he wants. The stronzo doesn't care about his famiglia mafiosa! You are the safest with me and so you will stay with me." the finality in his voice scared me and angered me at the same time.

 Just his presence made me bipolar.

"If you force me out of here, I will create a scene. After all a hospital is a very public place. I am sure someone will call the cops on you." I said smugly.

 As none of my other solutions worked, my brain decided to adopt regression, fucking fantastic.

The amusement that suddenly captured and twisted his features, made me lose my smugness in seconds.

Something was wrong. Because not only he looked horribly amused, but he also looked a bit malicious. The combination was never good. It only created madness.

Madness, as you is a lot like gravity. All it takes is a little push.

"You think we are in a public hospital, don't you?" he asked, his lips curving into that smug grin that I just wanted to wipe it off of his face. Preferably by punching him.

Of course we were.

I nodded, cautious and wary of his answer.

"Oh, tesoro, you are at my hospital. A hospital only meant for the people living on my Estate. A hospital only meant for criminals. You are already here and you are not leaving until I say so. No one moves a finger here without my permission so calling the cops on me is completely out of option." He said getting up and exiting the room before I could gather my thoughts enough to form a coherent reply.

Just as the fucked-upness of the situation cleared from my mind allowing me to think properly, something dawned on me.

Oh fuck, Lucca Santos had kidnapped me.

Fucking. Kidnapped. Me!

I looked around the room and there on the side table beside my bed was my phone. Thank god! I immediately dialed Clark. After two incredibly torturous long minutes he finally picked up.

"Come to my room, alone." I said before hanging up.

I was not going to stay here. No matter what.

***

Almost 20 minutes later the door to my overly luxurious ICU opens. Seriously, how did I not notice?

I have been to an ICU more times than I would be proud to admit so I know what it looks like. Clean, sterile and plain with lots of machines. But this one was all the above except it was no way plain. It had all the modern tech and shit. With password locked doors to remote controlled curtains.

His one hand held a coffee holder from Starbucks with two steaming cups of complete deliciousness while the other held my laptop bag. Clark was a lifesaver, someone without whom I don't think I would be able to function. He knew exactly what I wanted.

"I was just coming back from Starbucks when you called so I grabbed one for you too. The coffee here is absolute shit. I thought Italians were supposed to have good coffee! But whatever." He said handing me one cup and taking the other.

 A tightened my hold on the cup holder as I felt the warmth seep in my body via my palms. The smell coming from it was absolutely divine.

Sue me, I am an addict.

"The bag has your laptop, charger, headphones, Bluetooth and MiFi because the internet here is absolute shit, no signal! So don't even try using it." He sounded appalled. Placing the laptop bag by my foot he made himself comfortable on the chair by the bed.

He looked exhausted, tired and dead, all at the same time. His usually perfectly gelled hair were now messy and the laugh lines on his face were dominated by the worry lines.

"Are you okay?" the question left my mouth before I could stop it.

He looked up wide eyes, shock evident on his sharp features. He stared at me for a good measure before a small smile curved his lips.

Oh come on, I am not heartless! So what if I care?

"You knocked your head pretty hard, didn't you?" he asked, shock, confusion and amusement laced in his soft tone.

"Fuck off." I whispered, sending a glare his way as I took a sip of heavenly deliciousness.

"Ah, there you are!" he said, chuckling humorlessly.

"You look like shit, is what I was trying to say." I scowled he just rolled his eyes at me. We lapsed into silence.

He was the first one to break the silence.

"I assume I was called here for a reason?" he asked raising a pointed eyebrow in my direction. I nodded.

I immediately straightened up and put the half-empty cup down on the bedside table.

"Linguini fucking kidnapped me." I stated looking him in the eye, gauging his reaction of whether he knows about it or not. No surprise registered on his sharp features as he looked back with an equally dead look. He knew.

"You being kidnapped is a 24 hour old story. What now?" he asked wasting no time and getting straight to the point.

"I am not staying here. I am going home." I stated taking another sip of the lukewarm coffee. It still tasted good.

"I figured as much. So what now? What do you want me to do?" He looked as excited as a child on sugar high just before he opens his Christmas gifts.

I gave him a half smirk and we got started on the planning...

***

As the clock ticked, so did our plan. We discussed and debated endlessly, each and every suggestion and idea shot down by the other because it was either too impulsive or just impossible.

But after a long, very long time we finally settled on one plan that may or not get me out of the mafia la-la land in one piece.

This plan is supposed to be a three-man task but there's no way I am including Lia in this.

Why you may ask? Well because she actually for some bizzaro reason she agreed with Lucca, that I should be kept as a hostage here till matters cool down. Yeah, right.

"Perfect."Clark sighed in agreement.

He was exhausted because I was constantly shooting down all the stupid ideas he gave me. Seriously he needs to cut down on crime series he watches. He actually suggested to fucking stuff me in a garbage bag and just waltz out of the place in broad daylight. Like that was going to happen.

"Hardly perfect. I swear to god I will personally neuter you and make you choke on your own dick if anything, I mean anything happens to my car. Understood?" I threatened, looking him straight in the eye making sure he knows just how serious I am about this threat.

He nodded immediately.

"I really don't know what is more disturbing, the kind of threats you give or that you actually mean what you say." He murmured, looking just as nervous and shaken up as he should be.

The only response he got out of me for that was a very un-ladylike snort. Then suddenly I remembered something that I want only Clark to answer.

"What the fuck is Sebastian doing here?" I asked because I clearly remembered Clark telling that Sebastian was a journalist and NOT a mafia doctor.

As soon as I said Sebastian's name, his face darkened instantly and a very prominent scowl dominated his features.

"Please, can we not talk about that lying, conniving sonofabitch? Currently, he just disgusts me." he muttered looking utterly dejected and betrayed.

"I mean, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have found out about him being the mafia go-to doctor. He told me he was a journalist; turns out he is a fucking doctor and not any doctor at that, a fucking mafia doctor! That asshole lied to me for two fucking years and I never lied to him! How am I supposed to trust him now?! I ...I really hate him. So much." He ranted, I let him.

He needed to get it out of his system, bottled up frustration were never the wisest things to keep in, I would know.

"You never lied to him?" I asked him, extremely shocked.

"No, I mean whenever I surprised him with dates and gifts, I had to. No choice there. But other than that, never." He muttered shaking his head slightly. Wow.

I felt really bad for him but I didn't know what to do. I wasn't the first choice you'd make if you need comfort. Never was, still am not.

"He's an asshole." I muttered hoping it would help. I guess it did because no sooner I said it; a small smile appeared on his face.

Before he could answer back, the door swung open and in came the very asshole. Long confident strides and expressions professionally polite but his eyes looked pained. He heard us.

"How are you feeling Ms. Styles?" he asked as he came to stand by the bed.

"Fine." I replied curtly.

"I need to do a full check up." his statement was more like a question.

Clark immediately stood up and looked at me, not even sparing a glance at Sebastian.

"I'll go get the things you needed. I'll be back in an hour or two." That was the code for him going to prepare my escape. Finally!

As soon as I nodded, he left not once looking over his shoulder towards Sebastian. If Sebastian was affected by this, he didn't show it.

After 20 minutes of prodding, poking, undoing and redoing my bandages, Sebastian finally broke the silence.

"So your vitals are all good, actually better than expected. The stitches are a bit sensetive, but don't worry they'll dissolve in a few hours but be sure to not go near water till then, we don't want to infect your wounds.

Your ribs are healing fine, but I still suggest to not exerting much pressure because if the stitches open, it'll be ugly. Complete bed rest for at least two days. You'll have light headaches for a few hours so I suggest take Tylenol. If they exceed more than a few hours or you feel pain behind your eyes, tell Lucca to bring you to me, immediately." Throughout his prognosis, his speech was curt, polite and professional.

Though his last sentence made me roll my eyes, as if I was sticking around that long.

"Thank you, Doctor." I murmured, looking at him.

He was a total bitch to Clark but that doesn't mean I am not grateful to him. He saved my life after all.

"Please call me Sebastian." He said, a genuine smile gracing his face. I simply nodded.

Silence lapsed for a while which for the better use of words was awkward as fuck. He stared at me with curiosity and hesitation while I stared back with a blank look. He wanted to say something; he was itching to say something but was hesitating for some reason. Maybe Clark must've told him about my short temper, who knows?

I had time to kill, so I decided to humor him.

"Spit it out Sebastian. I can see the words choking you." I rolled my eyes as the fingers of my right hand played with the hem of the over-sized t-shirt I was wearing. Whose shirt was it? It smelled good.

A bit shock and relief passed his features before he tried to compose them in the semblance of apathy.

"Do you think...I mean, does he, Clark, really, you know...hate me?" he sounded do nervous that I was so sure that he was going to faint any minute now.

"Ask him, not me. You both are pouring your hearts out to me like I am your couple's counselor or something, but guess what? I am not. I am a fucking lawyer. If you want to sort out your issues, you need to talk to each other and try not to fucking spew some more lies out of your mouth while doing that." I hissed sending him a stony glare.

He gulped and nodded, looking extremely flustered.

"You know you say that you are not counselor, but that was pretty good advice, tesoro." I quickly snapped my head to the direction of his voice.

Lucca Santos was leaning on the door frame with hands crossed over his chest and a smug smirk on his face. For a change he wasn't wearing a crisp suit but a dark grey turtleneck and dark blue jeans, the butt of his revolver poking out of his waistband.

For wearing something so casual, he looked sinfully delicious.

Wait, what?

"Leave Sebastian." He said, never taking his eyes off of me. From the corner of my eyes I could see Sebastian leave the room without a word.

"What do you want?" I glared at him as he leisurely strolled in like he owned the place.

Oh wait, the bastard actually did.

"Pleasure seeing you too, tesoro." He said voice thick with masculinity and sarcasm.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed, I seriously did not want to deal with him, period.

"Well I do own this place..."he trailed off, amusement clear in his eyes.

Sadistic fucker.

"Don't remind me." I muttered hoping he wouldn't hear me but of course he heard me. The universe fucking hates me.

As soon as he heard those words, a low chuckle left his lips.

"Why are you here, Lucca...?" I asked, sounding tired as fuck. Just like how I felt.

He looked at me for a while. His face a mask of impassiveness. Nothing passed his face features as he studied me and I stared back at him.

The really disturbing part was that I didn't mind him looking at me like that. At all. In fact I enjoyed it.

"I was worried about you, tesoro." He whispered after a considerable amount of silence.

"What?!" the amount of shock I was feeling wasn't even funny.

"You heard me." he continued in the same whisper. "But if you try to escape from here, which I am sure you are already planning to, I will tie you to my bed and lock you in my room. You won't get out until I want you to." His voice had a hard edge as his eyes darkened. 

Danger and sensuality oozed out from them.

"At least take me to dinner first." The reply flew out of my mouth even before I could stop it.

What the hell?!

His eyes widen in shock and surprise and suddenly they were filled with amusement and something darker.

"Maybe I'll have you for dinner." He murmured inching closer to me. Hands on his knees as he leaned closer to the bed I was on.

"What about me?" I muttered, donning an expression of hurt.

I had absolutely no idea where this all was coming from. I am so sure they had injected me with something funny.

The amused smirk on his face widened.

"Tesoro, not that I am complaining, but are you flirting with me?" the incredulous tone of his voice told that he was just being the smug little bastard I thought him to be. Well, less of the little and more of the smug bastard.

I needed to think fast.

I needed to stop thinking about him.

"You do know that I have a name. Right?" I said sounding as bored as possible.

This was my pathetic attempt at changing the subject. Because Lucca was right about that one little thing. I was flirting with him. I have no idea why, but if he is going to ask me I am going to blame it on the drugs they put in me.

"I know that, yes." He said, amusement, still clear as a sunny day, in his voice.

"Then use it." I deadpanned.

"Why?" he asked as if that was the obvious thing to say.

I rolled my eyes at him and let it go. No use arguing with the stubborn megalomaniac. I usually argue with people who are willing to reason.

"What does that even mean?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Why don't you find out for yourself, tesoro? You have enough technology surrounding you, no?" he asked looking at my mobile, laptop and MiFi.

"Too lazy."I answered off-handedly.

"Why the sudden curiosity?" he asked his eyes were wary and suspicious.

"You have been calling me that for a long time, I just wanted to know that what you are calling me. For all I know, you could've been calling me a bitch." I said looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes.

He laughed.

He fucking laughed.

And it was beautiful.

"I am glad you find me so amusing." I muttered rolling my eyes and looking away.

"Tesoro means darling in English." He said a shit eating grin still plastered on his face. "It's one of the terms of endearments I remember that my father used for my mother." He said looking at me with an amused and confused expression.

The look on his face was absolutely the exact opposite for what his entire being stood for.

Charming.

"Then why the fuck would you call me that?" I questioned.

By now I had two theories for Lucca Santos.

 Theory #1 was that he suffered from bipolar disorder. Murderous and violent one minute, charming and sexy beast with sensuality oozing from him the next.

Or theory #2, he wants something from me so he is kissing my ass. But if he really wanted something from me, he could just point a fucking gun at me and ask for it.

Whatever it was, I wanted to stay the hell away from him. He was messing with my head in all the wrong ways possible.

"Now is not the best time to tell you that. All in good time, tesoro." He whispered and continued to look at me with the same confused/amused expression.

"Whatever." I replied picking up my phone and opening my calendar.

My meeting with Mr. Wells is postponed to Friday which is day after tomorrow. Perfect.

I text Clark to get all the related files to my place so I can work on them tomorrow.

The thing with this case was that the person in question, Romanov Argent, the ex-employee to Mr. Wells's company wanted a spectacle to bring down the said company that was already crumbling and Mr. Wells wanted me to make me settle for something less... controversial. Romanov wanted the company completely destroyed for some reason.

According to whatever information I was sent about this Romanov guy, he was from the wrong side of the town. A reformed alcoholic who was kicked out of the company after being found guilty for stealing money bonds worth 150,000 dollars. But according to his statement, he wasn't guilty. He was adamant, he never saw those bonds.

Romanov had all the reason to steal the bonds. He was broke as fuck and had not paid his rent since the last six months and had a little brother to take care of.

 He was tatted up on each surface visible so it is a shocker that he was hired at all.

But something just didn't feel right.

Throughout this entire time of complete and utter silence, I could feel eyes drilling holes in my head. Snapping my head up to me meet his watchful gaze, I was again face to face with the same confused expressions of his.

"Are you alright, tesoro?" he asked looking a bit wary of my answer.

"What the fuck is wrong now? I am fine, I was talking to you not ten minutes ago, Lucca." I said the exasperation in my tone was palpable.

"Exactly." He whispered, his expressions not wavering.

"What!?" I bit out, wondering now what did I do wrong.

"You were having a civil conversation with me, no, you were flirting with me. Are you alright tesoro?" he clarified. Shock and bemusement making his eyes sparkle.

"Fuck off." I muttered.

Before he could reply, the lights went out completely. Almost simultaneously I heard a small click of Lucca's gun's safety. Soon the tall, broad figure of Lucca was covering my view to the doors. The gun in his hands ready to blow the brains of the person coming in through the door.

The shrill tone of Lucca's phone filled the eerily silent room.

"What's happening Damanio?" the hardness in his voice was chilling.

"Call Christian now...I am coming...I was with tesoro...no she's fine. I am coming." The one-sided conversation didn't give much away.

He immediately turned to me and handed me a chic looking 682 Smith and Wesson.

"Shoot anyone that comes through the door without hesitation if you don't know who he or she is. I have to go, but don't worry I'll come and find you." He said looking me in the eye.

His expressions dead serious and his eyes lifeless. 

The amusement and shock dancing in those green orbs not a minute ago vanished. He sprinted out of the door and in seconds I was all alone.

But I wasn't scared a bit. The power cut only meant one thing, Clark was here and the plan was going accordingly.

I seriously don't know how he managed it,  but somehow he did and now I was getting out of here!

All of us are a little insane, only some of us decide to show it.

• I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Next chapter is going to have some action and I am going to love writing it.

Not sure when I'll be updating though, maybe soon enough. 

So until then Happy Reading my beautiful, sexy readers! •