365 Days

by Blanka Lipinska

  I felt the tension leaving my body and I felt better by the minute. Massimo wouldn’t back down, though. Still kneeling, he waited for my decision.

  “But I’m…” I stammered, without a clue what to say next. “It’s too soon. We don’t know each other, and we’ve started out on the wrong…” I was babbling.

  “I love you, baby girl. I’ll always protect you and I’ll never allow anyone to take you away from me. I’ll do everything to make you happy and you won’t ever have to worry about anything. If I’m not with you, Laura, I’ll never be with anyone else.”

  I believed his every word. I knew it all to be true, and I knew how much all that romantic openness was costing him. Did I have anything to lose? For my whole life I had been doing what others expected of me, or what was the most appropriate. I never took risks, fearing changes and afraid of letting others down. Besides, it’s a long way from a proposal to a wedding.

  “Yes,” I breathed, falling to my knees, too. “I’ll marry you, Massimo.”

  The Man in Black dropped his head and exhaled.

  “Jesus, what am I doing?” I asked myself, leaning my back against the bed. “We’re complicating things a lot with this, you know?”

  He didn’t respond, and his head didn’t even twitch.

  “Listen to me now, Massimo. I need to finish saying what I started. Martin and his life mean nothing to me now, but I still don’t want you to make unnecessary mistakes on my account. You have me, I’m yours and only yours, and only I can make him understand that. A relationship should be about trust and sincerity. So if you trust me, you’ll allow me to talk to him.”

  Massimo lifted his head and sent me an impassive look. “Even now. Even at a time like this, this goddamned piece of shit is between us. I’ll only allow you to see him to get rid of that maggot once and for all. If you fail, we’ll do it my way.”

  I knew he was being serious. I had exactly one chance to save the life of my ex-boyfriend. Or Massimo would take it.

  “Thank you, darling,” I said, kissing him softly. “Now come. As my fiancé, you have a lot more duties.”

  We didn’t make love that night, but it wasn’t necessary. Closeness and love were all we needed.

  CHAPTER 16

  I didn’t like getting up early, but I had to. The Man in Black wouldn’t let me stay. I dragged myself out of bed, went to the bathroom, and made myself ready in about twenty minutes. Massimo sat on the sofa with a laptop on his knees and a cell phone in hand, focused and composed. He wore the clothes I had gotten used to—a black shirt and dark pants—looking really dapper. I watched him, peeking around the wall and playing with the ring on my finger. This is going to be my husband, I thought, and I’ll spend the rest of my life with him. One thing was for sure: this wouldn’t be an ordinary, boring life—more like a gangster movie sprinkled with some porn. After some time studying Massimo, I went to the closet and picked an outfit that would fit his attire, packing a small suitcase. As I took the stairs down to the living room, Massimo raised his head and sent me an appraising look. My dark gray high-hipped pants and the impossibly high stilettos hidden beneath the loose legs made me look taller and thinner. To top the outfit off, I’d picked a cashmere sweater in a brighter hue of gray. I looked elegant and matched my fiancé very well.

  “You look very attractive, Mrs. Torricelli,” Massimo said, putting down the computer and drawing near me. “I hope those pants aren’t hard to take off and don’t crumple easily. Otherwise you might end up looking a little less ritzy when we arrive.”

  I smiled and returned his look.

  “First, don Massimo, your wonderful Ferrari isn’t well suited for what you’re suggesting. It’s not too comfortable even when you’re fully clothed. Second, I’d be a bit distracted by your bodyguards. So forget it.”

  “Who said we’re taking the Ferrari?”

  Massimo raised his brows and fished out another car key from the drawer.

  “Please,” he said, opening the door for me and pointing me toward it.

  Four men accompanied us on our way to the garage, so the elevator got a bit cramped. We must have been quite a sight—five guys, most of them well over two hundred pounds, and one petite blonde. The Man in Black spoke to the men in Italian, instructing them.

  When the door slid open on the lower level, the entire security team got into two BMWs parked by the gate, while we went deeper into the garage. Don Massimo pressed a button on the remote, while I was trying to guess which car blinked its headlights in response this time. It was a Porsche Panamera, its windows tinted. I breathed with relief—the prospect of having sex in the Ferrari was a bit too much, even for someone as flexible as me. Massimo headed to the passenger door and opened it for me. As I stepped inside, he leaned over, drawing his face right up to mine, and said, “Every couple dozen miles I’ll fuck you on the back seat, so I hope you like the car.”

  He always turned me on when he was so commanding. I liked it that he didn’t ask my permission, instead just telling me what he’d do. Besides, I loved teasing him. I made myself comfortable in the seat, and said, “It’s nearly four hundred miles. You think you’ll manage that much fucking?”

  He laughed out loud and retorted before he shut the door, “Don’t you provoke me, or I’ll fuck you twice as many times.”

  We spent the drive to Szczecin talking, fooling around, and having sex in parking lots in the forests alongside the road, acting like teenagers who borrowed a car from their parents, bought an extralarge pack of condoms, and set out on an adventure. Each time we pulled over to a lot, the security detail stopped at a distance, giving us some privacy and freedom.

  We spent the next couple of days in Szczecin—I went to the spa, and Massimo worked. Despite the multitude of meetings, we ate together, slept together, and woke up together.

  On Wednesday, as we were driving back to Warsaw, my mom called.

  “Hello, darling, how are you feeling?”

  “Oh, just perfect, Mom. I have a lot of work, but everything’s fine.”

  “Great! I hope you remembered your cousin’s wedding on Saturday.”

  “Kurwa mać,” I blurted out.

  “You watch your language, Laura Biel!” Mother snapped, raising her voice at the sound of the cuss.

  The word “kurwa” was one of the few Polish words Massimo knew, so he instantly knew I wasn’t too happy with whatever my mother said over the phone.

  “Judging by that terse exclamation, dear, I gather you’ve forgotten. Well, let me remind you, then. The wedding is at four but try to arrive a bit earlier.”

  “That was an expression of delight, Mommy. Of course I remember. Count me in. I’m bringing someone, too.”

  Only silence answered me for a while. I had a pretty good idea what I was going to hear next.

  “Who?”

  Yup, just as I suspected.

  “I met someone in Sicily. We work together. I’d like to bring him with me, as he’s in Warsaw for training right now. Will that be enough data for you, or do you need me to send you a birth certificate, too?”

  “All right, have it your way. See you on Saturday,” she replied, apparently offended, and hung up.

  My eyes tried to focus on the landscape behind the window. How was I to tell Massimo he was just about to meet my parents? I shot him a glance and wondered what his reaction would be. He felt my eyes on him and knew something was amiss, so he took the first ramp off the highway and parked the car, turning in his seat to face me.

  “I’m listening,” he said, frowning.

  Two black BMWs stopped behind us. A man stepped out of the first one and approached our car. Massimo rolled the window down and waved the man away, saying something in Italian. The bodyguard turned back, stopped by his car, and took out a cigarette.

  “We need to go to my parents’ on Saturday. I completely forgot about it, but my it’s my cousin’s wedding,” I explained, grimacing, and hiding my face in my hands.

  The Man in Black didn�
��t hide his amusement.

  “So? That’s it? I thought something had happened. I need to start learning Polish after all. I tend to misinterpret some situations if I only understand the swearing.”

  “This is going to be a catastrophe. You don’t know my mom. She’ll pelt you with questions. And I’ll have to be there, translating, as the only foreign language she knows is Russian.”

  “Laura,” Massimo said placatingly, pulling my hands away from my face. “I told you my parents had made sure that I got a good education. Aside from Italian and English, I also know Russian, German, and French. It’s going to be okay.”

  I stared at him, wide-eyed, and felt incredibly stupid then, being able to communicate in only a single foreign language myself.

  “That doesn’t make it any better.”

  The Man in Black laughed out loud, turning to the steering wheel and accelerating.

  It was dark when we arrived. Massimo parked the car and pulled my suitcase out of the trunk.

  “Go upstairs. I need to talk to Paolo,” he said, and headed toward the two black cars parked on the other side of the garage.

  I took my bag and went to the elevator, only to discover it was out of order. I opened the door and took the stairs instead. Having reached the ground floor, I stopped. My jaw dropped. The lobby was once again filled with hundreds of flowers. White roses this time. Oh God, no!

  “Miss,” the receptionist called out, seeing me. “It’s so good to see you. Those flowers are for you.”

  I took a panicked look around.

  “The elevator’s down. He’ll have to go through here,” I muttered.

  “Excuse me, but I don’t quite understand,” the receptionist said.

  There were too many flowers to hide them quickly, and too little time to try to carry them out of the building. I snatched the little card attached to one of the bouquets. I Won’t Give Up, it said.

  “Fucking shit!” I cried, crumpling it in my hand.

  That’s when the door opened, and Massimo strolled in. He took a quick glance at the roses, balling his fists. Before I managed to say anything, he spun on his heel and stormed out. I stood in place, dazed, leaning against the wall, thinking about what was surely going to happen now. The sound of the Porsche and its screeching tires shook me out of my reverie. I sprinted to the stairs and skipped three at a time, reaching the door of my apartment in a few seconds. My hands were shaking, and aiming the key at the lock proved to be more difficult than normal. When I finally opened the door, I grabbed the key to the BMW from the table and rushed back downstairs. Driving out of the garage, I dialed Martin, praying that he picked up.

  “I see my present was more to your liking this time,” he said.

  “Where are you?” I shouted.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Where the fuck are you right now?!”

  “Why are you yelling? I’m home. Want to drop by?”

  God, no, I thought, and stepped on the accelerator.

  “Get out of there! Right now, you understand? Let’s meet at the McDonald’s by your place. I’ll be there in five.”

  “You must have really liked those flowers, eh? Why won’t you come inside, though? We can order sushi.”

  Annoyed and terrified, I sped across the city, breaking every traffic regulation on the way.

  “Martin, for fuck’s sake, just get out and meet me where I told you!”

  I heard the intercom in his apartment chiming.

  “Someone’s at the door. Probably the food delivery. I’ll be there, though. See you.”

  I screamed at him, but he wasn’t listening anymore. He hung up. I dialed his number again, but he didn’t pick up. I tried again and again. I hadn’t been this scared in my entire life. It was all my fault.

  When I arrived, I left the car in the middle of the street and sprinted to Martin’s apartment block.

  I punched in the code and rushed upstairs, grabbed the handle, and swung the door open. Inside, I saw Massimo’s men. I crossed the threshold, feeling my strength abandoning me, and slid to the floor with my back to the wall.

  Massimo was there, too, sitting next to Martin on the sofa. Seeing me, he jumped to his feet, Martin hot on his heels. The bodyguard standing closest shoved him in the chest, pushing him back to the couch.

  “Where are your pills?” I heard the Man in Black asking, but his voice was fading away. “Laura!”

  “I have some,” Martin said.

  When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the mattress in the bedroom with Massimo next to me.

  “You’re giving me more reasons to kill that guy than he has himself,” he hissed angrily. “If not for the fact that you left your medicine here…” He trailed off, clenching his teeth.

  “Let me talk to him,” I said, sitting up. “You promised me. I trusted you.”

  Massimo kept quiet for a while before calling out in Italian. His men walked out through the doorway.

  “All right, but I’ll be here. You will talk in Polish, so I won’t understand anyway, but I’ll be sure he doesn’t touch you.”

  I pushed myself up and slowly, groggily went back to the living room, where Martin was waiting on the couch, fuming. After he saw me, his glare became less hostile. I sat down next to him, and Massimo took the chair by the aquarium.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, worried.

  “Want to hear the truth? I’m furious with both of you. I want to kill you both,” I retorted. “What were you thinking, Martin?”

  “What do you think I was thinking? I’m fighting for you. Isn’t that what you wanted? Didn’t you want me to fight for you? Give you more attention?” he asked. “Besides, I think you owe me some explanations. For example, who are those armed men, and what is that Italian prick doing in my house?”

  I dropped my head, resigned.

  “I told you it was over between us. You cheated on me, and I can never forgive that. And the man sitting in the armchair there is my future husband.”

  I knew those words would hurt him, but it was the only way to get rid of him and ensure he lived. Martin pinned me with an angry stare, grimacing.

  “So that’s what it was all about? You wanted to get married? And I didn’t propose, so you found yourself some Italian gangster and now you’re going to be his wife? You took your man on vacation only to find yourself another one? That’s fucking evil.”

  Martin’s mocking, derisive tone rubbed Massimo the wrong way. The Italian pulled out his gun and placed it on his knees. My fury with the both of them boiled over then. I’d had enough of all this. It was too much.

  Switching to English so they both understood, I screamed at Martin, “I’m in love, get it? I don’t want to be with you anymore! You cheated on me and humiliated me. You acted like a bastard on my birthday. Nothing is going to change that anymore. I don’t want to see you again. And I’ve had it with you both now, so you can kill each other if that’s what you want!” I turned to Massimo. “But that isn’t going to change a thing. I decide about my life. Not either one of you. So, fuck off! Both of you!” I screamed, and stormed out.

  Massimo called something to the men in the corridor and they followed me. I was faster, though, and knew the neighborhood better. I reached my car and drove off, tires screeching, leaving them behind. I knew normally they’d start shooting, but they couldn’t.

  My phone kept buzzing, the screen displaying “unknown number.” I knew it was Massimo, but talking to him was the last thing I wanted right now, so I switched the phone off. Praying she was home, I drove to Olga’s. I rang the doorbell, and a minute later the door opened. Standing in the doorway, Olga looked like she had an epic hangover.

  “You’re alive,” she said, plodding back into her apartment.

  “Come on in. My head’s going to explode. I got totally trashed last night.”

  I closed the door and followed her to the living room, where she fell to the couch and wrapped herself in a thick blanket.

  “I’ve partied
with that blond guy from the club since Saturday. I think the poor bastard fell in love or something. Can’t seem to stop calling me.”

  I sat still, saying nothing. It was dawning on me that I had left the two men with a gun and told them to kill each other.

  “You’re pale like Dominika’s calves. Remember? That girl we used to go to school with?” Olga said, but seeing my expression, she added, “What happened?”

  I shook my head, shooting her a glance. If I didn’t tell her the truth, all the secrecy might kill me.

  “I’ve lied to you.”

  She faced me, grimacing.

  “I don’t live at a friend’s apartment. And I didn’t meet just anyone in Italy.”

  Telling her the whole story took me the better part of two hours, and when I was finished, I fished out my engagement ring from a pocket and put it on my finger.

  “This is the proof,” I sighed, leaning my head back. “Now you know everything.”

  Olga gaped at the piece of jewelry with shock on her face.

  “Holy fuck. What you said was something straight out of a thriller. An erotic one, at that. What happened to Martin?” Her eyes flashed with excitement.

  “Jesus, girl, I don’t even want to think about it! Why are you asking me this?”

  We both grew silent for a while, but after a moment’s hesitation, Olga reached for her phone, dialed a number, and put the thing on speaker.

  “We’ll see.”

  The next few seconds seemed to take ages. I knew whom she was calling.

  Martin picked up after five long rings.

  “What do you want, you nymphomaniac?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Nice to hear you, too, darling. I was looking for Laura. Do you know where she is?”

  “You’re not the only one looking for her. I don’t know and I don’t want to know. I don’t want to have anything to do with her anymore. Bye.” He hung up, and we both exploded with laughter.

  “He’s alive, at least,” I said, trying to stop my nervous giggling. “Thank God.”

  “Even the Sicilian Cosa Nostra was no match for him,” Olga added, pushing herself up from the floor. “Well, since everyone’s alive and well, and I finally know what’s happening, you can stay at my place for the night. Maybe it’ll do your fiancé some good to worry a bit before you go back.”