Laura Fuccesse, who up until that morning had been Laura Penfold, paced the bedroom of her new husband’s mansion.

She was still wearing her wedding a gown, an off the shoulder ivory French Chantilly and English Cluny lace adorned satin hand-stitched gown embellished with pearls. It had cost her husband Emilio Fuccesse over one hundred thousand dollars. Her white Christian Louboutin stiletto high heels had cost five thousand dollars. Even the fifteen denier flesh-toned Wolford pantyhose she wore under the dress had cost three hundred dollars as had her white satin panties and bra.

Laura was dreading what this night would bring; what the rest of life would bring. She didn’t love Emilio Fuccesse; in fact she didn’t even like him. But Emilio Fuccesse was rich and powerful and if he saw something he wanted he had to have it.

Laura Penfold was not the prettiest woman on the planet by any means, not even the prettiest women in the state or the city but she was certainly beautiful. She had met Emilio Fuccesse at an event hosted by her father, who worked for Emilio as his bookkeeper.

Laura knew that her father was deeply involved in organised crime but he passed himself off as a legitimate businessman. He’d told her, when she was old enough to understand, that he didn’t do anything bad, he wasn’t involved in any violence or physical criminality, he was just a bookkeeper. A bookkeeper for the biggest organised crime boss in the state.

Emilio Fuccesse had fallen for Laura Penfold when he first met her but she had rebuffed his advances. Emilio was handsome, rich and behaved like a perfect gentleman ... until he was denied what he wanted. He could have had almost any woman he wanted but he wanted Laura Penfold because he couldn’t have her.

Laura was tall with buxom buttocks a tiny waist and large breasts. Her long black hair framed a face that was not traditionally pretty but it was interesting with her longish straight nose, well-defined cheekbones, and green eyes which she accentuated with dark eye makeup and mascara. Her lips were full and she had a penchant for red lipstick. She dressed well, normally in skirted business suits because she had followed in her father’s footsteps and became an accountant but she worked for a legitimate business.

Emilio had followed Laura around like a lost puppy turning up unannounced when she was out socialising. His henchmen had scared off any potential suitors and even her close female friends. His jealousy consumed him.

Laura had finally relented and accompanied Emilio on a series of dates to try to get to like him but as charming and handsome as he was there was something about him that she couldn’t stomach. It wasn’t that he was a gangster, her father was a mobster and she loved him, it was because under his bluff, bravado and banter Emilio was a coward.

She had witnessed first-hand his cowardice when a man had insulted her in a restaurant. Emilio had stood up to the drunkard who had called her bitch when she had slapped his hand away from her ass. But the drunkard didn’t know who Emilio was and he tried to fight him. Emilio was used to people backing down at the mere mention of his name but when the drunkard had raised his fists to Emilio, he had backed down. In fact Emilio had apologised on behalf of Laura and said that she couldn’t take a joke. She could see the fear on Emilio’s face.

The fact that Emilio had two of his goons break the man’s arms and legs the next day didn’t prove that Emilio was heroic, in Laura’s eyes it just confirmed that he was a craven coward who couldn’t fight his own fights. She had felt belittled when Emilio had apologised to the heavy-set overbearing drunkard and she had told Emilio so later that night and had broken off their courtship.

She was glad that she hadn’t let Emilio make love to her. He had tried many times of course but she had made him settle for a handjob and had once given him fellatio when he begged her for it. Whenever she ceded to his supplications for sex he had bought her expensive gifts the next day. She hated that too as she felt like he was paying her for sex. Emilio was a petulant spoiled cowardly brat who had inherited his father’s legacy but couldn’t live up to it.

Finally free of him Laura moved interstate and took a better job on the west coast. She had only been gone a month when two of Emilio’s henchmen had bundled her into a car and kidnapped her and drove her across the country back to Emilio. He had given her an ultimatum. She could marry him and live a life of pampered luxury rearing his children or she could watch her father die slowly and painfully.

She agreed to marry Emilio on the proviso that they would only have sex for procreation. He had agreed and grinned at her that he wanted many children. She countered that she would have three and that was all. Emilio had agreed and she had never told her father what had transpired. That morning her father been the proudest man in the church when he gave away his daughter; he only wished that Laura’s mother was still alive to see it.

So Laura paced up and down the bedroom dreading the arrival of the man she had married only a few hours earlier. They would stay the night in their mansion and leave the next day for an extended honeymoon travelling around Europe.

Emilio had pawed at her in the limousine on their way home from the reception. He was more than a little drunk but it hadn’t affected his libido, he had forced her hand down his pants and she had found his cock hard and ready. She dreaded having to let him put it inside her but she had set her resolve.

She heard the creaking on the stairs as Emilio came up them and then the door opened and he stepped inside the bedroom and smiled at her. He was a handsome man with his dark Neapolitan complexion and gym-toned body. He moved into her and kissed her.

She responded to his kisses; she was his wife after all.

“I’m going to fuck you in that wedding dress,” he whispered in her ear and she shuddered.

“Emilio, please. It cost a fortune, let me take it off,” she countered.

“I paid for it so I’ll do what I want with it now get on the bed and open your legs Mrs Fuccesse,” Emilio pushed her away from him and hauled her over to the bed.

Laura sat on the edge of the bed. She refused to cry. Emilio was struggling to get out of his classic morning suit when they both heard crashing and banging coming from the floor below followed by the heavy thump of feet on the stairs.

“Shit! Who the fuck is that?” Emilio paled.

He went to the door and opened it and saw a man climbing the stairs. The man was holding a gun.

“Quick! Get in there!” Emilio grabbed Laura by the wrist and pulled her to her feet and dragged her over to the huge walk-in wardrobe and closed the doors behind her.

“Keep quiet. Don’t come out until I tell you to no matter what you hear,” he hissed at her.

He had opened the top dresser drawer and was about to retrieve his own pistol when the man burst into the room.

“No you don’t mister!” the man raced across the room and launched himself at Emilio.

In the ensuing struggle Emilio lost his gun and the intruder gained the upper hand. Emilio ended up lying on the floor on his back with the intruder straddling him, pointing a gun at his head. Emilio began to shake and sob.

Laura heard the struggle but couldn’t see anything through the wardrobe doors. When the fighting stopped she stepped back deeper into the wardrobe hiding behind the hanging clothes. From what she knew of Emilio she doubted he won the fight. What she hard next proved that she had been correct in her assumption.

“Get up and don’t make any moves,” the intruder growled.

He had both his own gun and Emilio’s and he waved them at Emilio indicating that he should back up. Emilio complied and backed up to the wall. The intruder ripped the phone cord out of the wall.

“Ok I know who you are and I know that you have money. If you do what I tell you we will both get out of this alive ... if not I’ll shoot you in the belly and leave you to die. Do you understand?” the intruder asked, still panting from the fight.

Emilio nodded. He too was exhausted and afraid.

“Open the safe,” the intruder waved his gun to a painting mounted on the wall.

“What safe?” Emilio asked and instantly regretted it as the barrel of a pistol struck him across the face.

Emilio fell to his knees and sobbed, cradling his bleeding face.

“Shall we try that again?” the intruder asked.

Emilio got shakily to his feet and without saying a word he went to the picture on the wall and moved it aside. The picture was hinged and behind it, set into the brickwork, was an old fashioned wall safe. It took Emilio three attempts to open it because his hands were shaking so much.

“Go and sit down where I can see you and don’t move or make a sound,” the intruder waved his gun at an armchair next to a writing desk.

Emilio obediently sat.

Laura could hear their voices and she hoped that the ordeal would soon be over. The man would take the contents of the safe and leave the house.

The intruder pulled everything out of the safe and went through it, discarding letters and documents and setting aside the cash, bonds and jewellery. He found an envelope that was marked ‘The Last Will and Testament of Emilio Fuccesse’. He tossed it Emilio who let it fall to the richly carpeted floor.

“That thing is going to get opened tomorrow if you don’t do exactly as I say,” the intruder said menacingly.

“Get me a suitcase out of the wardrobe and bring it here,” the intruder said.

Emilio went over to the walk-in robe and the intruder followed him at a respectful distance. Laura forced her back against the wall and pulled the hanging clothing around her, hoping that she would remain hidden. The intruder did not follow Emilio into the wardrobe but stood by the doors keeping an eye on him.

Laura peeked between the dresses and saw her husband. He had a gash on his cheek and his eyes were red from crying and his hair was a mess and his clothes dishevelled. She could literally smell the reek of fear coming off him. He turned her way and gave her look of helplessness and despondency. For an instant she pitied him, the he mouthed the word ‘help’ at her and she once again despised him. What could she do against a man twice her size who was armed with two guns. Emilio was supposed to be the tough gangster; why couldn’t he help himself?

“Hurry up. Take that one; the big leather valise,” the man waved a gun at the expensive Italian leather valise on the top shelf.

Emilio took it down and carried it over to the bed as instructed. He did at least close the doors to the walk-in robe behind him. Laura let out a sigh of relief when he did.

“Put the money, the bonds and jewellery in the valise then take off your watch and rings and put them in there too,” the intruder said.

Emilio complied.

“Now turn out the drawers in that desk and put anything of value into the bag too,” the intruder instructed.

Emilio put a large wad of cash and a tray of expensive watches into the valise.

“What else you got? You’re a rich gangster; this place must be crawling with loot,” the intruder grinned evilly at Emilio.

“That’s it. That’s everything,” Emilio looked utterly dejected.

“Don’t bullshit me you wop pansy,” the intruder pointed his revolver at Emilio and pulled the trigger.

The trigger clicked on an empty chamber.

Emilio screamed and pissed his pants.

“The next chamber is loaded so don’t fuck around. I want more,” the intruder growled.

Emilio fell to the floor, curled up in a puddle of his own piss.

“Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me! I’ve got more. I’ll get it for you,” he cried.

Laura heard both men leave the bedroom. She figured that they were going to the big safe in Emilio’s study. She contemplated leaving the walk-in wardrobe and fleeing but there was every chance that she would be heard or seen going down the elaborate spiral wooden staircase. She couldn’t leap from the window because the bedroom was situated above the gravel drive and she would likely break her ankle. She couldn’t call for help because the phone had been ripped from the wall. She decided to stay put.

Laura heard the men coming back up the stairs a few minutes later. Emilio was struggling with the valise which was now stuffed with loot.

“Put the suitcase down and sit back down in the chair,” the intruder ordered and Emilio complied.

“Is there anything else worth taking?” the intruder asked.

“That’s everything I have in the house,” Emilio replied, keen to appease the man and see the back of him.

“The car keys?” the intruder asked.

“On the keyboard beside the entry to the garage. There’s a Caddy, a Merc and a Lincoln,” Emilio gushed.

“Think I’ll take the Caddy; I like to drive American,” the intruder joked but Emilio didn’t smile.

The man tossed Emilio’s 9mm automatic into the valise and walked over to where Emilio was sitting, pointing the revolver at him.

“Are you sure that’s everything?” the intruder pointed the gun at Emilio’s face.

“Yes! Yes! Everything!” Emilio sobbed.

“Then you’re of no further use to me,” the intruder cocked the pistol and put his finger on the trigger.

“No! No! No!” Emilio begged.

“So? Is there more?” the intruder put the barrel of the gun against Emilio’s head.

“Will you let me live if there is?” Emilio pleaded.

The intruder pressed the gun harder into Emilio’s temple.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Emilio cried.

“What if I give you my wife?” he squealed.

“You can kidnap her. Hold her hostage. I’ll go to the bank tomorrow and take out whatever you ask for to pay the ransom,” Emilio was sobbing but he suddenly held out hope.

The intruder would have to let Emilio live so he could get the ransom money. But he wouldn’t. Fuck Laura! There were plenty of other beautiful women in the world. Instead he’d get every captain and soldier out on the street looking for the intruder and when they found him, Emilio would watch while they skinned him alive.

“Where is she? Is she in the house?” the intruder looked a little rattled.

If Emilio’s wife was hiding somewhere in the house she might call for help.

“She’s right over there hiding the wardrobe,” Emilio pointed at the double doors that led to walk in robe.

Laura stifled a cry. Her husband had just sacrificed her to save his own life.

“Fucking coward! Well I’m not letting this punk see my fear,” she whispered to herself.

Instead of curling up on the floor like she desperately wanted to do, she flung back the clothes she was hiding behind and strode to the doors and opened the wardrobe and stepped out.

Both men turned to look at the wardrobe where a young woman wearing a wedding dress stood with her hands on her hips looking defiantly at her new husband.

“How could you!” she screamed at him and began to stride towards him.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa, there sister,” the intruder shifted the pistol from Emilio to Laura.

Laura came to a halt, her fear overcoming her anger when she saw the dark muzzle of the pistol pointed at her.

The intruder waved his pistol at Laura.

“Drag that chair over next to your husband where I can cover you both,” the intruder put the gun back on Emilio who was the greater threat.

Laura complied and pulled a hard backed chair over to where her husband was sitting in the armchair next to the writing desk. She made sure there was a decent gap between them but close enough to comply with the intruder’s demands.

The intruder took his time to appraise Laura Fuccesse who sat uncomfortably in her satin and lace wedding gown with her ankles crossed demurely.

“You got all that money and power. You’re a big boss. You own those clubs with those dancers and those honeypot socialites. I thought a guy with your good looks and all that influence and wealth would have married a prettier wife,” the intruder sniggered.

“Hey!” Laura retorted.

Although she was scared, she was also angry. It was bad enough that her husband had offered her to this hooligan but it was insulting that the intruder implied that she was ugly.

“Oh don’t get me wrong. You’re far from ugly, in fact I think you are exquisitely and uniquely attractive in your own way, I just thought the boss here might have gone for one the pretty little things that undoubtedly flitter around him when he’s out and about doing business,” the intruder responded.

“Now we have a conundrum. If I take you with me I risk getting caught if you start screaming or put up a fight but the promise of Mr Fuccesse here opening his bank account and giving me more money is tempting,” the intruder waved his pistol back and forth.

“Either way I can’t leave him free to call the cops or his wiseguys as soon as I leave. You, Mrs Fuccesse, go and get those curtain tie-backs and bring them over here,” the intruder pointed to the heavy brocaded floor-length curtains that covered the windows.

Laura looked befuddled, then she realised what he meant. She went to the closest window and took the ornate braided cords off the U-shaped hooks and brought them over. She held them out to the intruder.

“Oh no toots. I’m going to keep my gun on you two while you tie your husband to the chair. You ... bossman ... get out of that armchair and sit down in that hard backed chair so your wife can tie you to it,” the intruder ordered.

Emilio was actually relieved. If the intruder was going to tie him into the chair it meant that he was most likely going to leave him alive and take Laura with him. He would be able to wriggle out of his bonds once the intruder left the house.

“Don’t do anything stupid like tying him up loose or using knots he can easily untie; you tie his wrists to the arms of the chair and his ankles to the legs, nice and tight. I’m going to check and if you’re fucking playing around I’m going to get angry,” the intruder threatened.

Tempting as it was to tie Emilio loosely so he could get help as soon as the intruder left, she heeded his warning. Besides, after Emilio had traded her to the intruder for his own safety she took furtive pleasure in binding her husband tightly to the chair.

“Hey honey; not so tight!” Emilio cringed when Laura bound his wrists tightly to the chair.

“No; that’s good. If he’s bitching about it hurting you’re doing a good job,” the intruder said.

When she had finished tying up her husband Laura sat down in the armchair that Emilio had vacated.

“Sit still toots while I check your work,” the intruder said.

He pulled on Emilio’s bonds and smiled when Emilio winced and cried out.

“For a tough guy you sure are candy-assed. You gave up your money without much a fight, you gave up your wife and you cry like a girl whenever I point a gun at you or inflict a little pain,” the intruder said, pulling on the cords.

“You won’t be saying that if my guys catch up with you,” Emilio spat.

“Whoa! That’s what I figured. You’re all piss and vinegar when you’re hiding behind your guys but you yourself are a coward,” the intruder sniggered.

Emilio’s face contorted with rage but he remained silent.

“Is that right Mrs Fuccesse? Is your husband a coward?” the intruder turned to Laura who said nothing but glared at him.

“Well she didn’t say no but she didn’t defend you either. Guess I’ll take her and be on my way. I’m not greedy, just go to the bank first thing tomorrow and withdraw five hundred thousand dollars in cash. Put it in that yellow holdall I saw in the wardrobe. Put it in a locker at Union Station and give the key to the locker to the attendant in the men’s room. Tell them that a friend of yours will collect the keys. Give the guy a big tip,” the intruder instructed.

“I’ll be watching so make sure you’re alone and don’t get your guys to try anything or follow me. A friend of mine will be watching toots here and if anything happens to me you won’t like what happens to her,” the intruder waggled the gun at Laura indicating for her to stand.

Emilio smiled inwardly. This guy was a fool. He would be a sitting duck when he went to the men’s room at Union Station. His guys would get him there and take him somewhere quiet where they could work on him. If anything happened to Laura too bad for her.

“Ok. It’s a deal,” he said to the intruder who now had Laura by the wrist, his gun dug into her waist.

The intruder pushed Laura towards the door.

He got her halfway across the room and suddenly stopped.

“You’re really goin’ to let me walk out of here with your wife?” the intruder turned to face Emilio who sat sitting quietly in the chair.

“Not much I can do to stop you is there,” Emilio replied.

“You didn’t put up much of fight. You gave her up to save your ass; you even suggested that I ransom her. You didn’t warn me not to touch her; not to hurt her. You didn’t comfort her and that it was all going to be alright or tell her that you love her,” the intruder gripped Laura’s wrist and led her back to where Emilio was sitting.

“How do I know that you are even going to pay the ransom or try to take me when I go to pick up the ransom?” the intruder put the gun to Laura’s head.

“She’s my wife. Of course I’m going to pay the ransom,” Emilio said through gritted teeth.

“Why don’t I believe you?” the intruder said menacingly.

The intruder pushed Laura away from him a little and she stood still with her head bowed.

“Look at me,” the intruder growled.

Laura looked up at him and stared at him defiantly.

The intruder studied her. Laura’s green eyes glowered and her full red lips were parted a little showing a row of uneven but perfectly white teeth. He took a step forward and stroked her face and when she tried to recoil he held her still.

“She isn’t exactly a troll. There’s something about her. She’s uniquely attractive and it looks like she’s got a killer figure under all that satin and lace,” the intruder continued to peruse her.

“So what? She’s my wife. What do I care what you think of her?” Emilio spat.

“Because if you don’t love her I doubt you will pay a ransom for her which means I get killed or captured in a setup or I’m stuck with her and no ransom money,” the intruder replied angrily.

“Hey! Can you stop talking about me as if I’m just a commodity!” Laura shrieked.

“And she’s got some spunk too,” the intruder pulled Laura close to him and held her by the wrist.

He leaned into her; his face inches from hers.

Laura studied the intruder’s face, refusing to look away.

The man was actually quite handsome with full lips and straight sandy hair. He was tanned and he looked lean and rangy under his tight shirt and jeans. Surprisingly he was clean shaven and his breath was sweet; it smelled of spearmint and he was wearing aftershave. He was not the shaggy unwashed ruffian one associated with crimes such as break and enter or kidnapping.

“Hey. I just realised. You two didn’t get to consummate your marriage did you? Unless the doll here let you fuck her up against the wall out back of the reception or in the car on the way here,” the intruder turned to face Emilio.

“Don’t be so crude!” Laura struggled but the man held onto her.