Well this couldn't have been any more awkward for me.

I sat around the large table in this run down apartment, Angelo was to my side and his sister and mom were across from us.

Not a single person spoke a lick of English, so I was entirely out of the loop. I did pick up on the occasional stares I would get from his mom and sister though. I could also put together the fact that his sister's name was Dominica. She looked even younger than me, maybe fourteen or fifteen? No older than that though, for sure.

Everyone ate food...except for me. I despised Italian food. I always got an upset stomach after eating it, and who willingly would put that upon themselves? Not this girl.

Angelo's mom's dark eyes were glued to me. She started speaking, as if it was directed at me, but I didn't understand a word she was saying.

"Translate please," I said to Angelo.

Dominica swallowed a bite of the tortellini before opening her mouth to speak. I was surprised it was in English, "Mama wants to know who you are. She says you look really familiar. Have you been on tv?"

Was I supposed to answer that?

Did they even know that Angelo was in the mafia? I'm gonna go with no.

"You're Chloe Cruise, aren't you?" Dominica asked, "I saw you in a magazine. Your brother's really attrativo," she swooned.

She would think that. My brother Bradley, was around her age. Always in those stupid pop culture magazines for teenage girls.

I was still unsure of what to say and Angelo was still busy trying to chew whatever he was eating, so he couldn't help me even if he wanted to. "Uh...I could've been in a magazine...I've never done an actual shoot though."

"Scusami," she said before pushing herself away from the table and heading down the small hallway.

"I want to leave," I whispered to Angelo, knowing his mom couldn't understand me. Unless of course she was just pretending to not know English. I didn't find that likely though.

"Too bad."

Dom and Luca said they were going to check into a hotel. Angelo doesn't trust them with me anymore though, so I had to go with him. I still find it weird how he's letting me be anywhere near his family. Couldn't have them knowing he's in the mafia.

But maybe they do know.

I don't know what to think anymore.

Dominica came back, a Vanity Fair magazine in her hands. Well dang, I've been in there a few times.

She opened up to a certain page and flashed it in my direction. I got a good glimpse of five people I will probably never see again. My dad, Violet, Sienna (but who cares), Bradley and Naya. It was a family picture taken a few years ago.

Angelo's mom, still looking at me, said something else.

"She wants to know what's wrong. You look sad," Dominica translated.

I shook my head, and choked back a few tears. Sleepiness and emotions weren't two things I liked mixing together. "I'm fine."

The marimba ringtone started blaring through the small apartment. Angelo was quick to retrieve his phone from his pocket and get up to leave the room.

As soon as he was gone, all eyes were on me...again. "Who are you to my brother?"

"Uh...he didn't tell you anything?"

Dominica furrowed her dark eyebrows, "My brother's never been in a relationship with anyone. Not that I know of at least. You're really young-"

"I'm not dating him," I interjected. I didn't even want to picture myself in any sort of relationship with Angelo. "And I'm not that young."

"How old are you?"

"I'll be eighteen in like...a month."

"You're six years younger than Angelo. That's...weird."

"I'm not dating him though."

I did the math. So he's...twenty-four?

I can see it.

That's really young to be a mafia leader though. How'd he make it there so fast?

Then again, what do I know about the mafia?

"So if you're not dating," Dominica paused to think, "That means you're in a shit ton of trouble with the mafia. You messed with the wrong borgata. Angelo can be mean."

"Wait..." I shook my head to stay awake, "So you know about him...being in the mafia?"

"Who doesn't? Just about everyone here in Naples knows that. So what'd you do? Why's he after you? Why aren't you dead yet? He wouldn't bring you here if he was going to kill you though. I'm so confused," she rambled on, going off on some tangent in Italian.

She then turned to her mother and started speaking to her in, you guessed it, Italian.

"Wait a minute," Dominica once again started speaking to me, "Your sister was dating my other brother. Lorenzo. What happened to her?"

"She's supposedly back at home with my dad. I don't know why though, after he finds out about her involvement in this, she's worse off than I am right now in the hands of mafia men."

"Why are you here? In Italy. You must have really messed something up bad, 'cause Angelo likes New York. He doesn't come here often."

"The cops found the mafia house," that's all I said on the subject. "I'm so tired," I dropped my head into my hands and shut my eyes, one hundred percent positive sleep was now within my very grasp.

Such bad timing though.

Why here of all places? In my captor's mother's home.

Angelo's mom started to speak.

Dominica translated, "She says you look tired. Why don't you go lay down on the couch?"

That didn't sound like a bad idea.

Not bad at all.

+

+

+

"Buongiorno, amore mia."

I opened my eyes after what felt like years of sleep.

Angelo was standing right over me. He was already dressed for the day, and nicely might I add. Had I not been his victim, I might have thought he was hot.

But I was a victim.

I sat up and rubbed the blurriness from my eyes, "What does that mean?" I asked, referring to his previous statement.

"Good morning."

"Where are we?" I looked around the room, knowing for a fact that this wasn't his mother's small apartment. It was ten times better.

"The grand hotel Vesuvio."

I nodded, "So what's on the agenda for today?"

"Stay out of trouble?" He answered as if it was a question, like I should have known that's what he was going to say. "Trouble's hitting us from both sides now. And I only have you to thank for that."

"I stand firm in my belief that this is your fault. None of this would be happening if a, you didn't kidnap me and b, you weren't in the mafia. None of this is my fault, stop trying to make me feel like it is!"

I got a weird look from him, not quite sure what it meant, but I had a good feeling now was the time to be quiet.

"You are a brave little gattina, aren't you?" He growled. That in itself was enough to make me want to cower under the covers for the rest of my life.

"Could you call me something else? After being told why everyone calls me kitten, I feel a little degraded."

He half smiled, "Fine. Criceto."

I could tell just by the face he was making that the name was no better than gattina. Hell, it was probably a lot worse. "Do I dare even ask what that one means?"

"Hamster."

"Of course."

"I think I like that name better. Thank you for that, criceto," he grabbed my ankles and pulled me down to the end of the bed, "Now let's go. Can't stay here all day when there's people after us."

I kicked myself free of his gasp and slid off the bed. Just now realizing that I had been changed out of my dress and put into an oversized white tee shirt. I didn't do that. "You're sick," I snapped while tugging on the shirt. "You changed me while I was asleep?"

"I could tell you the truth which would be no, but you wouldn't believe me anyway, would you criceto?"

"Nope. I wouldn't. You haven't exactly given me a whole lot of reason to believe you so far," I crossed my arms over my chest. "I would really love to go home now. I'm so done with you and your sick little mafia game."

"You want to go home? In a body bag? Chopped into a million little pieces? I'd watch my mouth if I were you, because that's the road you're heading down right now. You aren't worth all of the extra trouble you've gotten me into in the past week."

"And yet I'm still here. Why?"

"I wish I knew the answer to that."