365 Days

by Blanka Lipinska

  “Are you going to sleep through another day?” A quiet whisper with a British accent woke me up.

  I opened my eyes only to see Massimo sitting next to me, observing me.

  “I missed you,” he said, lifting my hand in his and placing a kiss on the back of my palm. “I’ve never said that to anybody. I never felt this way. I’ve been thinking about you the whole day. That you’re finally here.”

  Still a bit dazed after the nap, I stretched out lazily, arching my body. The thin dress must have exposed my curves. Massimo shot up and took a step back. His eyes were full of that animal lust again.

  “Can you stop that?” he asked, shooting me a warning glare. “If you keep being so provocative, you may regret it.”

  Seeing his stare, I jumped to my feet and stopped right in front of him. Without my high heels, I didn’t even reach his chin.

  “I was stretching. It’s a natural thing you do after waking up, isn’t it? But since you’re so touchy, I won’t do it again with you around,” I said, pouting.

  “I think you know perfectly well what you did there,” Massimo retorted, lifting my chin with his fingers.

  “But since you’re up, we can go now. You’ll need a few more things bought before we leave.”

  “Leave? Am I leaving all of a sudden?” I asked, crossing my arms.

  “You are, with me. I have a couple of things to do back on the mainland, and you’ll accompany me. After all, I only have three hundred and fifty-nine days left.”

  Massimo was clearly amused, and his carefree attitude quickly rubbed off on me. For a while, we stood face-to-face, like a couple of flirting teenagers. I could feel the tension between us, the fear and the lust. I thought we were both feeling the same thing—only the cause of our fear was different.

  Massimo kept his hands in the pockets of his loose dark pants. His shirt of the same color, with the top button undone, showed a glimpse of the short hairs on his chest. He looked so sensual and seductive when the wind ruffled his combed hair. I shook my head again, getting rid of the unwanted thoughts.

  “I would like to talk,” I stammered.

  “I know. Not now. There will be a time for that during dinner. You’ll have to be patient. Come with me.”

  He took me by the hand, picked up my shoes from the ground, and led me to the villa. We passed a long hallway and found ourselves on the driveway. I stopped on the stone surface, rooted to the spot. The horror of last night returned. It was the place. Massimo felt my hand growing limp. He took me in his arms and carried me to the black SUV parked a few feet away. I blinked nervously, trying to clear my sight. I wanted to pinch myself to wake up from the nightmare that kept repeating itself over and over again in my head.

  “If you’re going to black out each time you leave the house, I’ll have my people replace the whole driveway,” Massimo said matter-of-factly, keeping his fingers on my wrist and looking at his watch. “Your heart is going to burst if it continues like that. Try to calm down. Otherwise I will be forced to give you your medication, and that would only make you go to sleep again.”

  He grabbed me and sat me on his knees, bringing my head against his chest, stroking my hair, and swaying softly.

  “My mother did this to calm me when I was little,” he said. “In most cases it worked wonders.” His voice was gentle, and his hand didn’t stop its rhythmic movement.

  This man was so full of contradictions. A tender barbarian. The perfect way to describe him. Dangerous, imperious, intolerant of any defiance, but at the same time so caring and delicate. The mixture of all those things was terrifying, but also fascinating and intriguing.

  Massimo said something to the driver in Italian and pushed a button on a panel, which caused a darkened window to rise between us and the man. The car accelerated and the Man in Black did not stop stroking my head. A few moments later I was calm again, and my heartbeat returned to its normal rhythm.

  “Thank you,” I breathed, slipping from his knees and sitting down next to him.

  He studied me intently, making sure I was okay.

  In order to avoid his piercing eyes, I looked out the window, only to realize we were going uphill. I raised my eyes and gasped at the beautiful vista stretching before us. A city built on a rocky slope.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “My villa stands on the slopes of Taormina, and we’re going to town. I think you’ll like it,” he said, looking out his own window.

  CHAPTER 4

  Giardini Naxos, where I had stayed with Martin, was located a few miles away from Taormina. The town on the rock was visible from practically everywhere in Giardini. We were supposed to go sightseeing there. What if Martin, Michał, and Karolina went along with the plan? What if we met them? I fidgeted restlessly in my seat and the Man in Black noticed. As if reading my mind, he said, “They left the island yesterday.”

  How could he know what I was thinking? I sent him an inquiring look, but he didn’t so much as look my way.

  When we reached our destination, the sun was already setting, and thousands of tourists and locals were swarming the streets of Taormina. The town was brimming with life, and the narrow, picturesque streets were lined with hundreds of small cafés and restaurants. Signboards of expensive boutiques beckoned to me. Exclusive brands? In the middle of nowhere? There were no stores like that in the center of Warsaw. The car stopped, and the driver stepped out, opening the door for us. The Man in Black offered his hand and helped me out of the large SUV.

  After a while, I realized there was another car with us, just behind ours. Two tall men dressed in black emerged from it. Massimo grabbed my hand and led me to one of the main streets. His people followed us at a distance that was supposed to be inconspicuous. It all looked kind of grotesque—if they really wanted to remain unseen, they should be wearing shorts and flip-flops, not undertaker suits. It would be pretty difficult to hide those guns in tourist outfits, though.

  The first shop we visited was a Roberto Cavalli boutique. As soon as we stepped over the threshold, we were greeted by a shop assistant, who sprinted from behind her desk, eager to please. A well-dressed older man appeared from the back room. He kissed Massimo on both cheeks, saying something in Italian, before turning his attention to me.

  “Bella,” he said, reaching for my hands.

  It was one of the few words in Italian I did understand. I smiled at the man, thanking him for the compliment.

  “My name is Antonio. I shall help you choose some more… appropriate attire,” he said in fluent English. “Size thirty-six, I presume?” He sent me a probing stare.

  “Sometimes thirty-four. Depending on the bra size. As you can see, Mother Nature hasn’t been too generous to me,” I said, pointing to my breasts with a wide grin.

  “Darling!” Antonio exclaimed. “Roberto Cavalli adores such shapes! Come! Let don Massimo stay here and wait for the show.”

  The Man in Black began to sit down on a silvery satin couch. Before he even touched the soft pillows, he was offered a bottle of ice-cold Dom Pérignon, and one of the shop assistants filled his glass. Massimo shot me a lustful glance before hiding behind a newspaper. Antonio was hauling dozens of dresses to the changing room, helping me into them, all the time clicking his tongue with appreciation. I stared wide-eyed at the price tags of the outfits. That little heap of dresses Antonio prepared for me would probably buy you an apartment in Warsaw. Nearly an hour later, I finished picking clothes, and my choices were packed neatly into beautiful decorative boxes.

  The story repeated in other boutiques: an enthusiastic welcome followed by an unending shopping spree… Prada, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Louboutin, and Victoria’s Secret to top it all off.

  Each time Massimo would sit down and patiently wait for me, reading his newspaper, talking on the phone, or scrolling on his iPad. He seemed completely disinterested in what I was doing. On the one hand, I was happy, but on the other—it was getting on my nerves. What was wrong with him? Earlier, in the mornin
g, he couldn’t take his eyes off me, and now—when he had the opportunity to admire me in all these beautiful outfits—he wasn’t paying attention.

  This definitely didn’t go hand in hand with my concept of shopping straight out of Pretty Woman—me, showing off in new hot and sexy outfits and him playing the role of my horny fan.

  Victoria’s Secret greeted us with pink. It was everywhere: on the walls, the couches, the shop assistants, even—I felt like I’d been thrown into a cotton candy machine. I was about to puke with all that sweetness. The Man in Black glanced at me, taking his eyes off his mobile for a moment.

  “This is the last one. We’ve got no more time. Please take that into account when choosing your outfits here,” he said nonchalantly, turned his back on me, sat down on one of the couches, and got back to his phone.

  I grimaced, glaring at him with disapproval. It wasn’t about the fact that we were nearing the end of our shopping trip—I had enough by that time—but rather the way he had addressed me.

  “Signora,” the shop assistant called out, inviting me to the changing room with a gesture.

  As I entered the cubicle, my eyes were drawn to a neat heap of swimsuits and underwear waiting for me.

  “You don’t have to try on everything. Just one will be enough. I’ll make sure the size I’ve chosen for you is appropriate,” the woman said, and disappeared, drawing the heavy pink curtain behind her.

  Why would I want so many pairs of underwear? I haven’t had this many throughout my entire life. I stood there, gaping at the tower of colorful fabric—mainly lace. I peeked outside and asked, “Who picked all these?”

  Noticing me, the shop assistant jumped to her feet and came over immediately.

  “Don Massimo asked me to prepare those specific styles.”

  “I understand,” I replied, retreating into the changing room.

  Scouring through the heap, I noticed something: all this stuff was made of lace—thin lace, thick lace, regular lace… maybe a couple of cotton briefs thrown in, just in case. Great. Very comfy, I thought ironically. I picked a red lace and silk set and started to pull off my dress to get this over with. The fine bra closely fit my small breasts. Even though it wasn’t a push-up, they looked really sexy in the new lingerie. I bent over and pulled up the lace. As I stood back up and looked in the mirror, I realized Massimo was standing behind me. He was leaning against the changing room wall with his hands in his pockets and observing me, taking in the view. I spun around, glaring at him.

  “What are you—” I managed before he shot out his arm, grabbing me by the throat and slamming me into the mirror.

  He stepped closer, his body pressed against mine as he delicately trailed his thumb along my lips. I froze, paralyzed. His taut, muscled body made it impossible for me to move anyway. He took his thumb away and lowered it to my neck. His grip wasn’t too tight. It didn’t have to be. It was a message—he was in charge here.

  “Don’t move,” he purred, pinning me with his wild, icy stare. He dropped his eyes and moaned softly. “You look pretty. But you can’t wear these. Not yet.”

  The words “you can’t” sounded like an encouragement to me. Like a provocation. I felt like doing the exact opposite of what he was saying. I pushed myself away from the mirror and took a step forward. Massimo didn’t resist. He pulled away, matching my movements, keeping me at arm’s length, his hand never leaving my neck. When I was sure we were sufficiently far from the mirror, and that he could see me entirely, I lifted my eyes and looked into his. As I suspected, his stare was fixed on my reflection. He was appraising his trophy, and I could see his pants becoming too tight for him. He was breathing loudly, and his torso was heaving faster and faster.

  “Massimo,” I whispered.

  He tore his eyes from my ass and looked me in the eyes.

  “Leave or I guarantee this will be the last time you see me like this,” I growled, trying to make a threatening expression.

  He smirked, accepting the challenge. His hand tightened on my neck. His eyes flared with fury and lust as he took a step forward, and then another one. I felt the mirror on my back again. That’s when he let go of me and said, “I picked everything for you. I will decide when I want you to wear this.” He turned away and left without another word.

  I stood there for a while longer, boiling with fury, but somehow satisfied at the same time. I was beginning to learn the rules of our little game. I was getting to know his weak spots.

  As I put on my dress, I could still feel the anger inside. I snatched the heap of lingerie from the drawer and stormed out of the changing room. The shop assistant sprang to her feet, but I walked straight past her. Massimo was back on the couch. I marched across the room with all the underwear in my arms.

  “You picked that? Then here you go! It’s all yours!” I screamed, flinging the lingerie at him before running out of the boutique.

  The security detail waiting outside didn’t move a muscle as I passed them. They sent Massimo wary looks but kept to their posts. I ran along crowded streets, thinking about what I’d done and what I was about to do. What my behavior could bring about. I glimpsed a flight of stairs between two buildings, took a turn, and ran straight up, taking another turn and disappearing into the first narrow street I saw. It ended in another flight of stairs. I climbed higher and higher until I found myself two blocks away from the place I had escaped from. Then I leaned against the wall, panting. My shoes might have been works of art, but they definitely hadn’t been made for running. I stared into the sky and the grand castle looming over Taormina. Fuck this, I thought. I can’t go on like this.

  “It used to be a fortress,” I heard someone say. “You want to run all the way up there or will you spare my boys the exertion? They’re not as fit as I am.” I turned my head. It was Massimo. Standing at the top of the stairs. It was clear he had followed me in a run—his hair was disheveled. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. Unlike me. The Man in Black leaned nonchalantly against the wall, sliding his hands into his pockets.

  “We need to go back now. If you’d like a workout, there’s a gym and a pool back home. Or, if you’re more of a staircase marathon kind of girl, there’s a lot of those back at the villa, too.”

  I knew I had no choice. I had to go back with him, but at least for a moment I had felt my fate was in my own hands. Massimo extended a hand, which I ignored, heading back down the stairs where the two suited bodyguards were already waiting. I passed them both with a disapproving frown and walked over to the SUV parked a couple of feet away. I got in, slamming the door behind me.

  A while later, Massimo joined me. He took the seat next to me and put his phone to his ear, talking all the way, until we reached the driveway. I had no idea what he was saying—I could still understand very little Italian. Massimo’s voice was calm, though, and down-to-earth. He listened more than he spoke, and I couldn’t read his body language.

  We stopped at the mansion. I grabbed the handle, but the door was locked. The Man in Black finished his call, tucked the mobile into his breast pocket, and fixed me with a stare.

  “Dinner will be served in an hour. Domenico will come for you.”

  The car door opened, and I saw the young Italian, his hand outstretched to help me out. I let him do so, sending him a wide, ostentatious smile. Then I ran to the building, looking straight ahead, not wanting to catch even a glimpse of the spot where the nightmare of last night had taken place. Domenico followed me.

  “Turn right,” he said quietly as I was starting to lose my way in the labyrinth of corridors.

  I turned back, thanking him for the assistance, and a while later I was back in my room.

  The young Italian stopped in the doorway, as if waiting for me to allow him in.

  “They’ll bring you all the things you’ve bought in a minute. Do you need anything else?” he asked.

  “Yes. I could use a drink before dinner. Unless I’m not allowed, of course.”

  Domenico smiled and nodded unde
rstandingly, disappearing in the darkness.

  I went to the bathroom, took off my dress, and locked the door behind me, stepping into the shower and turning on the cold water. It was freezing—I could barely breathe, but after a while I got used to it. I needed to cool off. When the chilling stream calmed me down, I turned up the temperature. I washed my hair, massaged in some conditioner, and sat down with my back against the wall. The water was pleasantly warm. It cascaded down the glass shower wall, relaxing me. I had a moment to think about what had happened in the morning, and then in the afternoon, back in the shop. I was confused. Massimo was a complicated man—totally unpredictable. Slowly, it was dawning on me that if I wouldn’t accept my newfound circumstances and start living normally, I’d simply die of exhaustion.

  That’s when it struck me—there was nothing to fight, nothing to run away from. There was nothing for me back in Warsaw. I wasn’t losing anything, because everything I had was now gone. The only thing I could do was let this adventure unfold. It’s time to accept your situation, Laura, I thought, standing up.

  I rinsed my hair and wrapped it in a towel, put on a bathrobe, and left the bathroom.

  My bedroom was filled with dozens of boxes. I couldn’t help feeling elated at the sight. In the past, I would have given everything to be able to go on a shopping spree like that. Nothing was going to stop me enjoying this now. I had a plan.

  I rummaged through everything, finally finding the Victoria’s Secret bags and digging through the dozens of lingerie sets until I found the red lace one. Then I picked a black see-through dress and a matching pair of Louboutin high heels. Massimo would have a heart attack! I headed toward the dressing table, snatching the bottle of champagne from the table on my way. I poured myself a glass and downed it in one gulp—I could use some liquid courage. Pouring another glass, I sat down by the mirror and took out the makeup set.