Queen of Hearts (Wonderland 2)

Chapter Nine

Lyriope

Wild and free, my hair swirls around me as we drive in the most beautiful country imaginable. I believe, after what I’ve seen, that I’ve truly seen the most beautiful country in the world. If there are other countries that can top this place… I can’t see how that’s possible. The sun is rising in the distance, giving a warmth in the horizon that is greeting us as we drive closer and closer to its heat.

If I die today—which could happen considering my current life choices—I will die at least experiencing a bucket list of a lifetime. Tuscany and the rising sun. Priceless. Worthy of dying for.

There is no one else on the back roads we are driving. Just Nick and me. Alone and yet I’ve never felt less lonely. A war of emotions battles inside of me. He’s essentially kidnapping me again. I’m his captive like before. And yet, I want to reach out and hold his hand. I want to rest my head on his shoulder and cuddle up against him as the romance of my setting is washing over me. I want to call him honey or sweetie and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. I want to be gooey and sappy and be his girlfriend. I want to be the leading couple in a romance novel. I want the ooh and aah and the love story that keeps people turning the pages.

I want so much, and yet, the reality is we are not any of that. Not in this world. Not where I’m at. Nick and I are two people in a battle against others and in an entanglement with each other. His tattooed hand on the steering wheel, his dark eyes as he stares ahead, and his firm jaw line all remind me that this is not a man who cuddles. This is not a man who will call me terms of endearment as he takes the steps of ordinary. Nothing about this man is ordinary, and nothing about this man is a romance novel.

“Home sweet home,” Nick says as we drive down a dirt road toward a town that sits on the edge of a hillside.

“What is this place?”

“It’s a town called El Boro. I own the winery here, and I also own all the buildings.”

“You own the entire town? Who owns an entire Italian town?”

“I do,” he says with a laugh. “It’s a small town. There are only a few buildings. Other than the winery and restaurant at the base of the hill, there is an old medieval church, a few villas, and a couple of old shops. None of them are operational at the moment.”

“Why not?”

He shrugs. “I’m keeping it to myself right now. It’s mine.”

“You’re keeping an Italian town to yourself?” I ask in disbelief.

He laughs at my shock. “There are a lot of little towns in Italy that are vacant or nearly abandoned. Generations have died off and no one has come in to give new life. I simply bought one of these towns and not ready to jumpstart it yet. Someday.”

“Someday?”

“And it’s a good thing I haven’t yet,” he adds. “It’s going to serve as a good hideaway while we figure shit out.” He points to the view of what feels like all of Tuscany down below the town. “Back in history when all these Italian villages were at war, this village served as a lookout point. Italians would build these structures on the top of the tallest hill so they could see the approaching armies and prepare. As you can see, there is no way anyone could get to this town undetected. You could see them coming miles away.” He chuckles. “I’ll get us some security to man the towers and we’ll be able to see our enemies coming. No surprises.”

“We aren’t at war.”

His laugh and his smile vanish. “You have no idea. We are. It’s a modern-day war. It’s a war in our world. But nevertheless, it’s a war.”

“Because of me,” I mumble more to myself than to him, remembering our conversation over gelato. “I still don’t understand why I’m so important to these people. It truly is ridiculous. I’m nobody. Bryant hasn’t wanted to have a thing to do with me up until now. But all of a sudden, he does? Explain that to me.”

“Ego. Power,” Nick says. “And Bryant’s enemies know that those two things will make him pay whatever he needs to in order to maintain them. He won’t give them up.” Nick pulls off the dirt road onto a cobblestone one. If you even call it a road. “The thing that has made this even messier is that every man involved—including me—suffers from the same ego and power. We don’t want to let it go either. So, you are simply the trophy at the end. And none of us want to lose.”

We pass the winery and the restaurant, and Nick continues to drive up the path toward the old village, and my heart stops.

“We’re going to drive up that street?” I screech. “It’s the size of a walking path. I don’t think it’s meant for cars.”

“We can do it,” he says, slowing down but still moving forward.

“There’s a cliff on the right side.” I take hold of the car handle to open the door. “I’ll walk.”

Nick doesn’t give me time to get out, but instead begins to drive up the treacherous road. If I were to try to get out of the car now, I’d fall to my death. There is not even an inch of ground to stand on the right side of me.

I close my eyes and clutch the seat. I can’t look. I can’t watch my life end this way.

“It’s fine,” Nick says calmly. “I’ve driven up this road before. Delivery trucks much larger have made their way up this road. Don’t worry.”

“We could have just parked at the winery,” I say, still keeping my eyes shut like I do when I go on roller coasters. “I don’t want to die this way.”

“You aren’t going to die.”