TWELVE.

I stifle a yawn, brushing a hand over my weary face as I stretch my aching limbs.

Slowly rising to an upright position, the sound of chains rubbing together fills the small, elegant room.

Clink, Clink, Clink…

I shake my hand that is cuffed to the bedpost above my head. Turning my body in an awkward position, I knock harshly on the wall three times with my free hand.

I pause.

And then I knock another three times, but quicker and louder this time around.

The door to the room flies open seconds later. And the early morning sun strikes me like a beam of light as it shines through the large window on the opposite side of my room—instantly blinding me.

Riccardo had me brought to this room yesterday after I spent the entire night and all yesterday in the abandoned wine cellar.

I believe Don Valentino uses the cellar for his enemies. Specifically, when his business deals turn gnarly.

After I had called him an arse hole, Don Valentino crushed his lips against mine, stealing my breath