Leona wants to be a polar bear

Leona felt as if she was in Antarctica as she wrapped her arms around her to shield herself from the cold. Why couldn't she be born as a polar bear with thick white fur and the privilege as the south pole's king of the food chain? At least in there, nobody would dare lock her up!

How she wished her kidnapper had some kindness hidden within him. She thought he would be like the cold CEOs in most novels who showed their arrogant side in public but their softer side with the female lead.

Sadly, she was only an unfortunate author. Even if she were the female lead, a man like this mafia boss would never show kindness to his lover. He was sadistic from the tip of his hair to the marrow of his bones.

The ginger head wondered how she landed in this pitiful state. Was it because she did not know how to clean, or because she broke the faucet? Whichever the case, it was useless mulling over it. There was nothing she could do about spilt milk.

There was a more urgent crisis to resolve. Before the broken faucet incident, Leona was trembling from hunger. However, she was wet and freezing on top of that. If she didn’t get warm soon, she would definitely fall sick.

Despite failing so many challenges in a day, Leona refused to call herself a loser. Rubbing her hands together, she calmed down and formulated a plan.

Panning her sight to every corner of the room, she started searching for a hidden camera. Leona knew from her previous failed attempts that this was not an ordinary house. Her kidnapper wasn't someone to be taken lightly with all those serious-looking men accompanying him.

If she could not use towels or any of his expensive clothes, what else could she borrow around the room that wouldn’t trigger a death flag? He didn’t specifically say that she couldn’t borrow other things. If Ignatius thought Leona would be an obedient puppy and freeze to death willingly, he was wrong. She was Leona Sandersmith, the warrior who wielded a pen!

While Leona plotted in her wet clothes, Ignatius changed into a new set of dry and comfortable clothes. He sauntered to the laptop in his study room to review the recent deals the Teivel Famiglia had. Another laptop beside his work computer showed him live footage of the cameras in his hideout. He expanded the camera monitoring his walk-in closet into a full screen and enjoyed the show.

Ignatius' eyes were glued to the monitor. He saw the ginger head crouching like a ball, rubbing her hands non-stop. Was it too much? Did he set the temperature too low? Curious about her facial expression in reaction to the coldness of the room, he zoomed in by scrolling the small mouse wheel.

When the mafia boss saw her outfit, he averted his eyes respectfully. Even if he was a criminal, that pale and silky skin underneath the wet fabric clinging onto her shouldn’t be seen by him. It reminded him how she wasn't wearing a bra underneath that, and while it was tempting to admire her shapely figure, the mafia boss resisted. He wasn't a perverted old leecher who would leer at innocent girls. He was a refined gentleman who would only sleep with willing beauties.

Ignatius zoomed out once again and continued observing his interesting captive without HD resolution. How the hell did she manage to occupy his mind? It was only a day since he kidnapped her, but every corner of his brain wouldn’t stop thinking about this braless and feisty specimen.

It was only a damn day, yet she was doing all the unpredictable things. Who could have predicted that a civilian girl could break out of cuffs using her bra wire? Ignatius had never met someone like that, and it tickled his curiosity.

He wanted to know what she could do now. Would she break his rules and grab a towel or use the clothing from his cabinet?

Ignatius waited for Leona to make her move. What could be running inside her pretty little mind?

Leona didn’t do anything for a while, so Ignatius checked his emails. However, he noticed a movement from the camera and turned back to watch Leona just in time as she pulled his precious gray carpet towards her!

Not expecting her creative solution, a chuckle escaped from the mafia boss' lips. He was right. Leona was different from all the women he met. The curious kidnapper wanted to test her limits. Although she had just managed to solve her recent problem, he was tempted to give her a new challenge. Should he make her do all the laundry or tell her to cook for everyone in the Teivel famiglia?

Blissfully unaware of what her actions inspired in the mafia boss outside, Leona relished in the comfort provided by the gray carpet enveloping her like a burrito. She closed her eyes in relief now that the coldness was resolved. As if impatient for their turn to be given attention, Leona’s stomach growled twice as angrily. The digital wall clock at the end of the room told the writer it was almost time for lunch. However, she doubted that Ignatius or his goons would give her anything. If she was still in the bathroom, she might still be able to drink some tap water. Here in the walk-in closet, Leona didn’t feel desperate enough to eat his expensive suits.

While Leona entertained thoughts about what she would and wouldn’t eat, the door burst open. A man in a black suit stomped in and threw a duffel bag at her.

“Boss’s orders. Change into this and serve him lunch. Hurry up.”

Not expecting the guard to barge in so suddenly, Leona automatically responded with her customer service smile but was cut mid-sentence by the slamming of the door behind him.

The slam of the door made Leona’s smile freeze in place before she rolled her eyes in the door's direction and let it fall. For a while, she didn’t react. However, Leona could feel the rage brewing from within and her patience thinning. What kind of kidnapper would spend so much time interacting with his hostage?! That mafia boss had many people serving him. He didn’t need Leona specifically to do anything, right? Obviously, he only wanted to annoy her like a child tugging on the pigtails of a girl he liked.

She cursed him internally as she opened the duffel bag and saw her old clothes. They were disarranged and very creased, but wearing that was a hundred times better than staying in these drenched clothes. She saw her favorite polka-dotted pajama, and it lifted up her spirits a little.

Concerned about the presence of a hidden camera, Leona wrapped herself with the borrowed gray carpet and changed inside. It was cramped, but she had to endure it, or they'd see her bright yellow underwear. Leona was not worried about her sense of fashion. She was more concerned about the small holes made by Mr. Mouse!

After changing into dry clothes, Leona headed towards her kidnapper’s suits and pants at the side of the closet room. Tempted to run her fingers through them, it was exactly what she did. Judging by the softness of the textile, it was obvious that they cost more than her life. Leona wondered how much each item was worth. A suit could probably cover her monthly, no, yearly rent in her rundown apartment!

Angry at how the petty mafia boss wouldn ‘t even spare her a rag for so long, Leona kicked the equally expensive carpet in frustration, but staggered a little when she lost her footing. She shook her head with an aching ankle, then slowly exited the closet with her duffel bag and wet clothes hanging from her arms.

Seconds later, one of the men from outside the kidnapper’s bedroom ordered her to follow him. As she was led to a hallway and through glass double doors, she carefully walked while secretly memorising the layout of this place. Leona knew that understanding the house's layout was the first step to planning a more successful escape.

Climbing up the black, metal staircase, they reached another narrow hallway. In Leona's mind, she had a rough map of the maze-like mansion. But how could she snoop around and reach the exit without alerting the guards? It was a problem for later.

The man in a black suit stood at the side of the gray door, narrowing his eyes on her. Seeing how he watched her like a hawk, Leona obediently entered the janitorial supplies room, trying to ignore the strong smell of detergent.

“Depending on your service, you’d be given a better room,” he explained by the door.

“What do you mean?”

The man did not answer her and instead led Leona towards the dining room at the end of the hallway.

Leona gaped at the modern-style dining room as soon as they passed the glass double doors. The walls were matte black, while the floor was white-tiled, giving a monochromic illusion of a boring life. A long black dining table lined by wine-red chairs with lofty backrests became the room's centrepiece. There was one chair bigger than the others with a taller backrest, distinguishing it from the rest and on it sat the mafia boss, waiting for the food to arrive.

Ignatius was waiting, not only for lunch but also for the interesting ginger head. When he saw Leona slowly approaching, he pointed to his side, but his eyes never left her as if she was his prey.