AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I glanced at the envelope. The handwritten phrase Anello di diamanti was circled three times – the angry gesture I’d made when I’d thought someone would steal the ring.
But something else was written on the envelope, too – in red ink, all caps, and different handwriting.
NON TOCCARE IL DOLORE DELLA MORTE – D. ROSOLINI
Do not touch on pain of death – D. Rosolini
I smiled.
Dario’s ‘warning to the staff’ so many years ago had been received loud and clear.
Now I had the ring back…
And finally, after so many years, I was going to take my shot.
107
The first thing I did after I walked out of San Vittore was get a cab to the Milan airport.
I bought a ticket to London in cash. My fake credit card had expired a year before, so cash was my only method of payment.
Then I went into a gift shop to buy a charging cord for my burner phone. After three and a half years in storage, it was beyond dead.
While I waited for the flight, I charged my phone and ate a meal in a restaurant. Much better than the shit from the prison cafeteria – but not quite as good as the food Dario had fixed in our prison cell. I realized at that moment just how charmed my life had been since I’d met him.
Within another hour, I was airborne.
I nervously tried to figure out the first thing I would say when I saw her.
Sorry I’m late…
You won’t believe what happened…
Traffic was awful…
No matter what I imagined, though, it ended with her flinging herself into my arms and kissing me passionately.
Once I landed at Heathrow, I took a taxi to 19 Coates Avenue, a two-story house with a lawn out front, nestled amongst a lot of trees. Similar houses lined the street.
It wasn’t that dissimilar from the fantasy I’d always had of me and Rachel with our daughter playing out back in the garden.
My heart thudded against my ribs as I walked up the driveway to the front door.
My right hand was in my pocket with the ring between my fingers. I held onto it like a drowning man holds onto a life preserver.
I told myself that there was a good chance she wasn’t even home.
It was 6 o’clock in the evening – she could still be at work or out to dinner with friends.
She could be on a mission in a foreign country.
Hell, this might not even be her house. She could have sold it, or rented it, or –
I forced all that out of my head and slowly walked up the front steps.
My heart was beating so fast I thought I might have a heart attack.
I actually felt more afraid than during firefights in Afghanistan.
