Chapter 3 - The Transport
"Let go of me!" I gasped, trying to pull my arm back, but his grip was unyielding. It wasn't tight enough to bruise, but it was absolute.
"Don't cause a scene, Emma," Alessandro said smoothly, his tone conversational even as he practically dragged me toward the door. "It would be bad for business. Yours, and mine."
My manager, an overweight man named Sal who spent most of his day screaming at the line cooks, took three steps toward us, his face red. "Hey! Pal! You can't just come in here and lay hands on my staff!"
Alessandro didn't even turn his head. His driver, the massive man who had opened the car door, stepped through the entrance and placed one heavy hand on Sal's chest. He didn't say a word, merely shifted his coat slightly to reveal the silver handle of a heavy automatic pistol holstered under his arm.
Sal froze, the color draining instantly from his face. He backed up, raising his hands, and completely abandoned me.
"Alessandro, please!" I begged as he pulled me out into the cold Chicago drizzle. The rain hit my face, chilling me to the bone, but the fire of fear inside my chest was burning me alive. "This is crazy! You can't just kidnap me!"
"It isn't a kidnapping if you belong to me," he said, opening the door to the Maybach and pushing me gently but firmly into the plush leather interior.
Before I could scramble toward the opposite door, he slid in beside me, slamming the heavy door shut. The locks engaged with a heavy, mechanical thud. The driver got into the front seat, started the engine, and the car glided silently away from the curb, leaving the diner and my old life behind in a blur of grey rain.
I pressed myself against the far side of the seat, wrapping my arms tightly around my chest. "You're insane. You're completely out of your mind."
Alessandro leaned back against his seat, crossing one long leg over the other. He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a small, clear zip-top bag, and tossed it onto the armrest between us. Inside was the wrapped wad of toilet paper, pulled open to reveal the pregnancy test I had tried so desperately to hide.
"Is it mine?" he asked directly, his amber eyes locking onto mine like a hawk targeting its prey.
I swallowed hard, the taste of copper filling my mouth. "No," I lied, my voice shaking uncontrollably. "It isn't."
The silence in the car became suffocating. Alessandro didn't yell. He didn't move. He simply stared at me, his gaze so intense it felt as if he were peeling away the layers of my mind.
"Do not lie to me, Emma," he said softly, a dangerous edge sharpening his words. "I know your schedule. I know where you go, who you talk to, and who you sleep with. You haven't touched another man in over a year. That child carrying your blood is carrying mine."
I closed my eyes, tears finally spilling over my lashes. "Why are you doing this? What do you want from me? I don't want your money, Alessandro. I don't want your life! Just let me go. I'll get rid of it, or I'll leave the state, and you'll never have to see me again!"
The moment the words "get rid of it" left my mouth, the atmosphere inside the vehicle shifted dramatically.
In a fraction of a second, Alessandro leaned across the console. His heavy hand closed around the back of my neck, pulling me forward until my face was inches from his. His eyes were burning with a terrifying, primal fury.
"You will not touch that child," he snarled, his voice dropping into a guttural growl that made my whole body tremble. "That is a Vitali. My blood. My legacy. You carry the heir to everything I own, and if you think for one second I am going to let you harm or destroy my child, you are severely mistaken."
"I am a person, Alessandro!" I sobbed, struggling against his iron hold. "Not an incubator for your family!"
"You are the mother of my child," he corrected, his grip on my neck softening slightly, though he didn't release me. He brought his thumb up to gently wipe a tear from my cheek, a gesture so contradictory to his rage that it terrified me even more. "And that means you are under my protection. From this second forward, your life as a waitress is over. Your apartment is over. Everything you were before today is gone."
"What about Liam?" I choked out, remembering my friend who was waiting for me, who had supported me through everything. "He'll look for me! He'll call the police!"
Alessandro let out a dark, dry laugh. "Liam Carter is a low-level accountant who barely makes enough to pay his taxes. If he steps out of line, I will ruin him before he can even dial three digits on his phone. But if you behave, I'll make sure he is compensated for his trouble and left completely untouched."
He released my neck and sat back, adjusting his cuffs with cold efficiency.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked, trembling as I pulled my knees up toward my chest.
"To the estate," Alessandro replied without looking at me. "Out in Lake Forest. You will have your own wing, a private medical team, and total security."
"A prison," I whispered.
"A sanctuary," he countered, looking out the tinted window as the city skyline slowly faded into the dense, rich suburban forests of the North Shore. "There are people in this city who would cut your throat just to hurt me, Emma. They don't know about you yet. But if they find out you are carrying my child, you become the biggest target in Chicago. You are safe only where I can see you."
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I stared at the back of the driver's head, my mind racing through every option, every escape route, every scenario. But deep down, I knew the truth.
I was caught in a trap set by the most dangerous man in the city. And the worst part wasn't that he was holding me captive. The worst part was that when he touched my face, a small, traitorous part of me remembered how warm his hands had been in Room 1520, and how safe I had felt in his arms before I realized who he really was.
