TERMS OF DESIRE

Giulia was never intending for Enzo to be more than a brief divergence. She envisioned it as a figment of her imagination, a chance to ease the pain of the individual who had shattered her heart. However, somehow, she ended up falling deeper than she had ever planned. They paid for dinners and arranged dates on weekends, and she even pushed herself to indulge in the intimacy that never seemed complete. Enzo did not give her anything more than the crumbs. He sat in on her at night, watching the events she had planned, and then walked home with a strong odor of alcohol, leaving her curled on the couch, contemplating why she had to stay.

What caught her attention the most? She once told Alessia she was lying only to obtain 600 dollars. This was all to pay off one of Enzo's financial obligations. As she looked back, she scoffed at her decisions. It was all to impress a man who didn't even care.

Then she arrived, imprisoned in a house that was part of the Black Cross Mafia and held captive by that very man. You could hear Alessia's voice echoing through her head, cursing her for being overly soft and too optimistic.

Enzo was not going to help her. She knew that for certain. Vincenzo and his crew harbored false hopes that he would come to her aid. Enzo didn't love her. He never did.

"This will be your room."

Luciana took her to the spacious room. Her features were sharp, as well as platinum-blonde hair that was in the form of a loose mullet, and she had more ink than all magazines' pages. Rings were lining her ears, and she walked with confidence, which caused Giulia to pause.

Giulia was looking about. The space felt more like an elegant guest room rather than a jail cell. Velvet drapes. The mattress was soft and king-sized. Marble makes up the floors.

"There's a bath and clean clothes in the closet. I'll bring you food."

Before Giulia could enquire further, Luciana had already left.

The silence caused her skin to begin to itch. However, after all the events, the sound of a hot bath seemed like the sole viable option for her at the moment. She shook off her clothes and stepped into the hot waters and attempted not to be thinking about her fingers being cut off or the cold call that Vincenzo's voice rang out.

The dark trousers she changed into afterward smelt of an expensive cologne. The plain white shirt rested uncomfortably over her. The woman wondered if the clothes were his.

The night was a blur of sleep for her. Every scratch on the walls affected her. Then she waited for someone to enter the space with her.

The light of the morning filtered through the large windows. Her stomach was rumbling due to hunger and nerves. After that, the door squeaked and slid open.

Luciana was the first to enter, and she walked in entirely in black.

"The boss wants you."

Giulia didn't ask. She followed the instructions without question.

Warm gold lighting flooded the dining area. The chandeliers shimmered brightly, and the large wooden table teemed with unidentified food dishes. Her eyes shifted to the person sitting at the head of the table.

Vincenzo.

He didn't even look up as he cut a large chunk of steak.

"Still no word from your man," the man stated quietly.

Giulia hesitated. Her voice barely came out. "He won't come. He doesn't care. Please... just let me go. I don't matter to him."

Vincenzo turned his attention to her. His eyes expressed an unreadable emotion. Cold? Curious? She wasn't able to tell.

"Sit."

The order wasn't too brutal. It was still shaking her. She was sitting, looking at the food, but she didn't touch it.

"How did you meet Enzo?"

"A party... mutual friends," she said.

"Two years together."

She looked up. "How do you know that?"

He smudged his mouth using napkins.

"I run the Black Cross in Palermo. I know what I want to know."

She caught her breath.

He leaned back in his chair, looking at her.

"I know your parents died when you were ten. Alessia raised you. She's married to Marco Romano, the tech guy. You're in your last year at Victtoria University, studying literature. You have one close friend--Chiara. Your favorite color is blue. But you own more red panties than anything else."

Her lips parted in shock.

"Okay. Stop."

Vincenzo grinned, but he didn't press.

The woman felt uncomfortable. He appeared to have observed her entire life without seeking her consent.

"So... what now? You know Enzo won't come for me. What are you going to do?"

"We've got a tail on him. He's in Napoli. Probably thinks he can outrun me."

"So you'll let me go?"

He smiled at least once.

Her chest swelled in relief. However, she then...

"If you agree to my terms."

The woman froze. "What terms?"

He bent forward, sliding his plate off.

"You give me what I want. I give you your freedom."

Her stomach twisted.

"What do you want?"

"You."

The air changed.

"I don't understand."

"I want you in my bed, Giulia."

The woman looked at her husband, shocked. Her hands sat on the chair's edge.

"Why?"

"Because you're exactly what I crave. You walk into a room, and I forget how to breathe. You've reawakened emotions within me that I once thought were dormant.

She didn't speak. Couldn't.

"I'm not going to force you. I don't touch unwilling women. But I see it in your eyes. You want more than a normal life. You want something real. Dangerous."

Giulia was trying to make sense of it all. His voice was deep and high and low. Every word sinks deeply.

"Give me thirty-one nights. Let me show you passion that burns. Let me ruin you for any man who comes after. Then you can walk away."

She blinks, her heart racing.

"What happens if I say no?"

He turned his head.

"You stay here. Protected. Untouched. This procedure will continue until Enzo reveals his face. Or until I get bored."

Her mouth went dry. The room sounded warmer than it did before.

"You're serious."

"Always."

Her eyes widened to her arms. Her fingers trembled. Her brain was racing.

Was she able to confirm her answer?

Did she maintain the final piece of control?

The look he gave her – as if she were much more than just a pawn – made the decision more difficult than it ought to be.