365 Days

by Blanka Lipinska

  “Please, have a seat. You didn’t react well to the sleeping pills. I had no idea you had a heart condition,” I heard a man say, and noticed a silhouette standing on the balcony, facing away from me.

  I didn’t even flinch.

  “Have a seat, Laura. I will have to use force if you don’t comply. I will not ask again.”

  Blood was pounding in my head. I could hear the thumping of my own heart. I was about to faint and could see dark spots floating in front of my eyes.

  “Why aren’t you listening to me, goddamn it?”

  The silhouette leaped from the balcony into the room and caught me before I could collapse to the floor.

  I blinked, trying to clear my sight, and felt the man sitting me down in an armchair and putting an ice cube into my mouth.

  “Suck it. You’ve been asleep for nearly two days. The doctor gave you an IV so you didn’t dehydrate, but you may feel thirsty and dizzy.” I knew that voice and that characteristic accent.

  I opened my eyes only to meet that ice-cold, animal stare. It was the same man I had met at the hotel, in the restaurant, and… oh my God—at the airport! He was dressed the same way he had been when we had landed on Sicily and when I had walked into his burly bodyguard. He was wearing a black suit with a black shirt with the top button undone. Very elegant and very imperious. I spat the ice cube into his face.

  “Why am I here? Who are you and how dare you keep me here?”

  He swept away the water spattered over his face, picked the cold translucent cube from the rug, and flung it into the fireplace.

  “Answer me, you motherfucker!” I screamed, momentarily forgetting my dizziness. I tried to jump to my feet, but he put his hands over my shoulders and pushed me back into the armchair.

  “I told you to sit down. I will not tolerate any insubordination,” he growled, leaning over me with his hands propped on the armrests.

  Furious, I raised my hand and slapped his face. His eyes blazed with wild fury, and I shrank back in terror. The man rose, very slowly, straightened out, and inhaled loudly through his nose. I was so afraid of what I had done I stayed down, frozen, unable and unwilling to test his limits. He headed toward the fireplace, stopped with his back to me, and put his hands on the wall over the mantel, leaning on it heavily. Time was passing, and he stood there, utterly quiet. If not for the fact that he was keeping me there against my will, I would probably have felt pricks of conscience by now and would have started apologizing profusely, but in my circumstances, I couldn’t help feeling only anger.

  “You’re so disobedient, Laura, I have difficulty believing you’re not Italian.”

  He turned back and looked at me. His eyes were still blazing. I decided to keep quiet, hoping to learn what I was doing here and how much longer this whole business would take.

  The door opened and the same young man who had brought me here entered.

  “Don Massimo…” he stammered.

  The Man in Black shot him a warning glance, making his subordinate freeze. Then he walked over to the younger man and stopped only a few inches short of touching him. He needed to bend down, being a lot taller than the second man—at least a few inches.

  Their conversation was in Italian—the youngster spoke, and my captor stood perfectly still and listened. He replied with a single utterance and the other man disappeared, closing the door behind him. The Man in Black paced the room for a while, then left for the balcony. He leaned over the railing and started to repeat some phrase in a soft whisper.

  Don… I recalled people referring this way to Marlon Brando in The Godfather. But he was the head of a Mafia family. Suddenly it all came together: the bodyguards, the cars with black windows, that enormous house, and the terrifying imperiousness. I had thought the Cosa Nostra a figment of Francis Ford Coppola’s imagination, but here I was, in the middle of the real thing.

  “Massimo?” I asked quietly. “Is that what I am supposed to call you? Or Don?”

  The man turned around and walked back to me with a confident stride. The whir of thoughts in my head made me gasp for air. The fear was paralyzing.

  “So, you think you understand now?” he asked, reclining on the sofa.

  “I think now I know what your name is.”

  He smiled slightly, growing a bit more relaxed. “I imagine you’d like some kind of explanation. Nevertheless, I don’t know how you’ll react to what I am going to say. Better have a drink first.”

  He stood up and poured us two glasses of champagne. He took one and passed it to me, and then sipped from the other one before taking his seat on the sofa again.

  “A few years ago, I had a… let’s call it an accident. I was shot. It’s part of the risk you need to accept when you’re part of my family. As I lay dying, I saw…” He trailed off and got up. After walking to the fireplace, he placed the glass down on top of the stone mantel and sighed heavily. “What I’m about to tell you will be hard to believe. Before I saw you at the airport, I never hoped to meet you in person. Please, look up at the painting over the fireplace.”

  My eyes trailed upward, to the place he had pointed to. I stiffened. It was a portrait of a woman. With my face. I grabbed my glass and downed it. The alcoholic bite made me wince, but it had the calming effect I had expected. I reached out for the bottle to pour myself another glass. Meanwhile, Massimo continued.

  “When my heart stopped, I saw… you. After weeks in a coma, I regained consciousness, and my fitness came back sometime later. As soon as I was able to communicate the image I had before my eyes the whole time, I called an artist to paint the woman I saw in my dreams. He painted you.”

  That couldn’t be disputed. It was me in the painting. But… how was that possible?

  “I looked for you everywhere. Well, that might be a bit of an overstatement. Deep down, I knew someday you’d show up. And here you are. I saw you at the airport, leaving the terminal. At first I wanted to grab you then and there and never let you go again, but that was just too much of a risk. But since then, my people have been keeping an eye on you. Tortuga, the restaurant you ended up in, is my property. But it wasn’t my doing that you went there. It was fate. When you were inside, I just couldn’t resist. I had to talk to you. And then fate intervened again, and you went through that door you shouldn’t have. Providence seems to favor me. The hotel you stayed in is also mine… In part.”

  That’s when I realized where the champagne on our table had come from, and why I had felt watched. I wanted to interrupt the man and shower him with a million questions, but I decided to wait.

  “You must be mine, too, Laura.”

  That was it. I snapped. “I’m not anyone’s property! I’m not a thing to own! And you can’t just have me. Kidnap me and count on me just accepting that,” I hissed.

  “I know. That’s why I’ll give you a chance to fall in love with me and stay with me out of your own volition, rather than any compulsion I might impose.”

  I snorted with hysterical laughter, and then slowly and calmly rose from the armchair. Massimo didn’t object to that. I walked over to the fireplace, turning my champagne glass in my fingers. I finished the rest and then turned to my captor.

  “You’re kidding, right?” I narrowed my eyes, pinning the man with a hateful glare.

  “I have a boyfriend who will look for me. I have a family. Friends. I have a life. And I don’t need your goddamn chance at love!” I nearly shouted that out. “So you’ll let me go right now and allow me to return to my world.”

  Massimo walked over to the opposite side of the room. He opened a cabinet and took out two envelopes before returning and stopping right next to me. He was close enough for me to smell his scent—an overpowering mix of power, money, and warm, spiced perfume. It made me feel dizzy all over again.

  He passed me the first envelope, saying, “Before you open it, I’ll explain what is inside…” I didn’t wait, instead spinning on my heel away from him and ripping the envelope open.

  Photos spil
led to the floor.

  “Oh my God…” I breathed. Then a great sob wracked my body and I collapsed to my knees, hiding my face in my hands.

  My heart cramped and my eyes teared up. The photos showed Martin fucking another woman. They had been snapped secretly, but there was no doubt they showed my boyfriend.

  “Laura…” Massimo knelt beside me. “I will explain what you’re seeing now, so listen, please. When I tell you to do something, and you decide to do the opposite, it will always… always end up badly for you. Please understand that and stop fighting me. You’ve already lost that battle.”

  I raised my teary eyes and looked at him with such uncontrollable hate that he withdrew a bit. I was furious, desperate, ripped to shreds with grief. I didn’t care anymore.

  “You know what? Fuck off and die!” I threw the envelope at him and leaped for the door.

  Still on his knees, Massimo shot out a hand and grabbed my ankle, pulling me toward him. I toppled to the floor again, slamming into it with my back. He didn’t mind, instead pulling me across the rug until I found myself directly beneath him. Lightning fast, he released my ankle and clasped his hands around my wrists. I thrashed wildly, trying to break free.

  “Let me go, you fucker!” I roared, struggling.

  He shook me, trying to make me stop fighting, and a gun slipped from beneath his belt, tumbling to the floor. I froze, but Massimo didn’t seem to care at all, instead keeping his eyes focused solely on me. His hands clamped around my wrists harder, like vises. I stopped struggling, growing limp. I was helpless. I cried. His cold eyes pierced me with their icy stare. His eyes trailed down my body, half-naked now. The bathrobe I had on had rolled upward, revealing a lot. Massimo inhaled through his teeth, biting his lower lip. He moved his mouth near mine. I stopped breathing. He was taking in my scent and getting ready to taste me now. His lips touched my cheek and trailed a line across it. He whispered, “I will not do anything without your consent and willingness. Even if I think I already have it, I’ll wait for you to want me, to need me, and to come to me out of your own will. Which doesn’t mean that I don’t want to enter you, deep, and stifle your screams with my tongue.”

  Those words, spoken so softly and silently, caused a wave of heat to ripple through my entire body.

  “Now stop squirming and listen. I have a hard night ahead of me. The previous ones haven’t been a walk in the park either, and you’re not making it any easier for me. I’m not used to having to tolerate insubordination. I don’t know how to be delicate, but I don’t want to hurt you. So either I strap you to a chair and gag you, or I let you go and you start doing what I say.”

  His body was stuck to mine. I could feel each of his perfectly toned muscles working beneath his skin.

  He slid his left knee, which had been locked between my legs, higher when I didn’t react to his words. I moaned softly, stifling a scream when he pushed his knee between my thighs and it rubbed against my sensitive skin. My back arched unwillingly as I turned my head away from him. My body only reacted this way when I was aroused. Despite Massimo’s aggression, that was exactly how I felt.

  “Don’t provoke me, Laura,” he hissed.

  “All right. I’ll be good. Just get off me.”

  Gracefully, Massimo stood up and put his gun on the table before taking me by the hands and leading me back to the armchair.

  “This way it’ll be a lot easier for the both of us, believe me. So, back to those photos…” he said.

  “On your birthday, I witnessed a quarrel between you and your man at the pool. When you left, I knew it was the day I’d bring you into my life. After your man didn’t even move a muscle to stop you when you ran away, I knew he wasn’t worthy of you. I knew he wouldn’t grieve for you too long. When you disappeared, your friends went to lunch as if nothing happened. That’s when my people took your things from your room and left a letter in which you wrote to Martin that you’re leaving him and returning to Poland, moving out of his apartment and disappearing from his life. There’s no possibility that he didn’t read it when he went to his room after lunch. In the evening, when they walked by the reception dressed fashionably and in a great mood, your friends were approached by a staff member who recommended a club to them. It’s called Toro and it’s also my property. This way I could control the situation. When you look through those photos, you’ll see the whole story play out just the way I told you. What happened at the club… well, they drank, had fun, and Martin took an interest in one of the dancers. You saw the rest. The pictures speak for themselves.”

  I sat still, looking at him in disbelief. My whole life had been turned upside down in a matter of hours.

  “I want to go back to Poland. Please, let me go home.”

  Massimo got up from the sofa again and walked over to the fireplace. The dying fire bathed the room in a warm half-light. He propped one hand on the wall and said something in Italian. With a deep sigh, he turned to me again and replied, “Unfortunately, that won’t be possible during the next three hundred and sixty-five days. I want you to sacrifice a year for me. I will do everything in my power to make you fall in love with me. If I fail by your next birthday, I will set you free. Don’t get me wrong, this is not a proposal. I’m telling you what is going to happen. I will not touch you or do anything you won’t want. I will not make you do anything against your will. I will not rape you, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Because you’re my angel. I want to show you all the respect in the world. Your value to me is as high as my own life’s. Everything in my residence will be at your disposal. You will get your own bodyguards, but not because I want to control you. It’s only for your own safety. You will pick the men yourself. You will be able to access all my property. I will not keep you locked up. If it is your wish to leave the house and go to a club or wherever else, I have nothing against it—”

  I interrupted him.

  “You’re not being serious, are you? You think I’ll just sit here like nothing ever happened? What will my parents think? You don’t know my mother. She’ll cry her eyes out when she learns I’ve been abducted. She’ll spend the rest of her life looking for me. Do you know what this will do to her? I’d rather you shot me right here and now than make me blame myself for my mother’s pain. If you let me out of this room, I’ll run away, and you’ll never see me again. I will not be anyone’s property. Not yours, not anyone else’s.”

  Massimo closed the distance between us, as if he knew something unpleasant was going to happen again. He reached out, passing me the other envelope.

  Holding it in my hands, I wondered if I should rip it open like I had done the first one. I studied Massimo’s face closely. He was watching the fire, waiting for my reaction to what was inside the envelope.

  I ripped it open and pulled out another set of photos, my hands shaking. What the fuck? Those were photos of my family: Mom, Dad, and my brother. In normal, everyday situations. Taken near our house, or at lunch with friends, through the bedroom window as they slept.

  “What is this supposed to mean?” I asked, disoriented and pissed to the brink of completely losing it.

  “This is my insurance policy. You will not risk the life and safety of your family, will you? I know where they live, what they do, where they work, when they go to sleep and what they eat for breakfast. I will not keep an eye on you the entire time. I know I won’t be able to keep you in place when I’m out. I won’t keep you under lock and key, either. The only thing I can do is to give you an ultimatum: you give me a year and your family will be safe and sound.”

  I sat rooted to the spot and wondered if I could kill him. There was a gun lying on the table between us and I was ready to do what it took to protect my family. I sprang up and snatched the firearm, aiming it at the man. He remained in place, calm and impassive, but his eyes were ablaze with anger.

  “You’re driving me crazy, Laura. Crazy and mad. Please, put the gun down or the situation might get out of control and I may be forced to hurt you.”


  As soon as he was finished, I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Massimo pounced on me, wrested the gun from my hand, and jerked me off the armchair, flinging me to the sofa he had jumped off of a second ago. He rolled me to my stomach and bound my hands with a decorative rope attached to one of the pillows. Then he sat me up, or rather threw me against the soft seat.

  “You have to flick off the safety first! You want to talk that way? You comfortable? Want to kill me? Think it’s so easy? As if nobody tried before you…”

  He trailed off, brushed his hair with a hand, sighed, and threw me a cold and furious glare.

  “Domenico!” he called out.

  The young Italian immediately appeared at the door. He must have been waiting on the other side, ready to enter at any time.

  “Take Laura to her room but keep the door unlocked,” he said in English with that British accent of his. He wanted me to understand. Having done that, he turned to me and said, “I will not keep you here against your will, but will you risk escaping?”

  He lifted me by the rope and passed it to Domenico, who accepted the thing with utter impassivity. Massimo tucked his gun behind his belt and left the room, shooting me a last warning glance as he did so.

  The young Italian gestured to the door and led me by the “leash” Massimo had bound me with. After walking the same labyrinth of corridors, we reached the room where I had woken up a few hours ago. Domenico untied my hands, nodded, and closed the door as he left. I waited a couple of minutes and grabbed the handle. The door wasn’t locked. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cross the threshold. I sat down on the bed, thoughts spinning in my head. Was he telling the truth? Was he being serious? The entire year without my friends? Without my family? Without Warsaw? I broke out crying. Would he be able to do something that cruel to my family? I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to test him. A wave of tears flooded from my eyes. I don’t know how long I spent crying, but finally, exhausted, I fell asleep.