“Mr. Marcello wants you to join him for breakfast,” Kane explained.
“Tell him he can go fuck himself,” Sadie spat back and I couldn’t help but chuckle in response.
Kane gave her a curt grin too. “Let me rephrase. Mr. Marcello demands that you join him for breakfast.” He pointed to the bag. “And he demands that you wear this.”
Sadie reached down, grabbed the bag, and tipped it upside down. A few pieces of white tissue paper sprinkled down before a pile of folded clothes slumped to the ground. Even in a heap on the floor, it was clear they were expensive. A pair of light blue jeans, a peach-colored silk top, and what appeared to be a matching set of navy blue, lace underwear; the bra would be visible through the sheer shirt. Very Dante.
Sadie looked the garments over, and I braced myself for a verbal assault. She looked up, her chocolate brown eyes settling on Kane and I with a calmness that was borderline horrifying given her previous behavior. “Fine,” she said.
Kane and I both leaned forward. “What?” Kane said, the hike in his voice matching my own shock.
Sadie reached down and pulled the clothes up into her arms. “I said, ‘fine.’ I’ll be at breakfast, and I’ll be dressed.”
I looked over the clothes with piqued curiosity. Sure, the man everyone kept referring to as “Mr. Marcello” was nothing more than a high-class thug, but he knew his way around a rack of clothes. I’d spent more than my fair share of time with the industry’s top designers ever since I was a young model, and I’d be hard-pressed to see what I held currently at even the most high-profile shows I’d ever walked in. Without even trying the clothes on, I could tell they’re going to fit like a glove. They weren’t the size I was forced to squeeze into for runways, they were my exact preferences. A man that could look at a woman and tell instantly what her size was did spark a certain interest within me, but I shook it away. I wasn’t about to let myself get swept up in the glamour of, who was ultimately, my kidnapper.
As much as I didn’t want to use any of what had been provided to me, the suite I was in did have a huge, gorgeous en suite bathroom. I stepped into it and did have to take a moment to marvel at its beauty. It had pristine marble countertops and clean white tile floors, with a large, open glass shower and a waterfall head. After the night I’d had, I was more than pleased to peel off my clothes, trying not to think about the very real possibility that there was a camera hidden somewhere, and climbed in. I ran particularly hot water and washed away the stress and fear of the situation I was in.
My mind traveled to somewhere else as I stood washing my body. It started out with thoughts about my home, my job, and my family, but just like he had in my actual life, Dante intruded my thoughts and pushed everything else out. I hated to admit that he was undeniably attractive. It wasn’t just his adonis-esque looks, there was something about his personality that was delectable as well. He was reserved, but strength emanated from him. Who was he? Where did he come from? Had he ever gone to such lengths to take a woman before? I thought about his guards as well. They all seemed to follow him without hesitation. What sort of power did he have to make such strong, domineering men listen to him like a puppet master pulling strings?
I had never given myself to another, and when I thought of letting Dante have any part of me, I was concerned with the way my body heated up; concerned with how I had to fight the urge to slip my hand between my legs and tease myself at the thought.
“I’ve been in here too long,” I murmured to myself. It had to be the heat of the water that was disrupted by my thoughts. I knocked the water to something colder, and let it simmer down my body before finally turning the water off.
As I left the shower, I noticed what my eyes had missed before. The countertop next to the sink was fully stocked with an array of expensive makeup and hair products. I may have been kidnapped, but I was still a model. I got to work giving myself a fresh, not-too-heavy face of makeup and styling my hair in a simple updo. When I was satisfied enough with my appearance, I walked out of the bathroom, and dressed myself in the clothes that had been provided. I gave myself a final glance over to the door, and knocked. The second of the guards who was keeping watch over me opened the door, and I walked out without saying a word.