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Unless…the dumb waiter. Most of the suites at Fiero’s have a dumbwaiter. If I could get in and get myself down to the kitchen through that, I might escape Fiero’s men in the foyer.
I race towards the guest room near the main bedroom. Fiero’s room is always locked and protected, but the guest rooms aren’t. As I run, my prize feels heavy in my coat, a dead weight that threatens to drag me down with every step.
Guilt gnaws at my insides—what have I done? Have I betrayed the man who showed me such hospitality, offered me protection, and gave me his heart?
No. I clench my jaw and steel my nerves. Fiero may have kept me safe, but his life is in danger now. A diamond that people are willing to obtain through blood and murder is no prize at all. I'm doing the right thing by taking it away from him to keep him alive.
I turn into the hallway for the rooms and freeze.
“Miss?” a flashlight shines in my face, pointed by a man who peeks through an ajar door in one of the stock rooms on this floor.
“Miss Romola?” he asks again. I look at his face and recognize him as Pietro, one of Fiero’s trusted housekeepers.
I turn to the elderly gentleman, his eyes frightened, and my brain runs in circles. Unable to think of what I should do, I look flustered, digging my hands through my hair and then pointing to the corridor I came through.
“Oh Pietro!” I gush. “I’m just so afraid, Pietro. Fiero left me in the safe room, but the gunshots,” I shudder. “I never heard gunshots before, you know? Never. They seemed so close,” my voice rises at the last words, shrilly, afraid. “Pietro, I ran out. The rooms are safer. I’ll hide under the bed until it’s all over.”
“No, Miss Romola,” Pietro walks forward, taking my hands in his own. “Oh, you poor little dove. Come, come with me. The secure room is where you should be. It’s where Don Fiero will first look for you!” He tries leading me back down the hallway from where we came.
No. I can’t go back there. I need to get to the dumbwaiter. My heart lurches to my stomach.
“Pietro, you don’t understand. It’s dangerous there. Please, just let me hide out here.”
“You can’t miss,” he shakes his head. “The rooms are dangerous. Trust me, I’ll stay with you till the boss comes back. We return to the safe room now.”
He picks up his walkie-talkie, and I can only watch, having no control over the situation. He warns some of Fiero’s men to check the hallways, for he needs to “get Miss Romola back to safety.”
Anger rises up in me at how easily a frail old man has just thwarted my only getaway plan.
He pulls my arm, and fearing he might get suspicious, I comply.
We reach back to the safe room. The door is slightly ajar. Pietro frowns, pushing it open to let me through when someone pulls it open from the inside. We both stare wide-eyed into Fiero’s distressed, angry face.
“Are you alright, my love?” he asks, rushing up to me and touching my face, hair, and arms to see if I’m okay.
With a panicked expression, trembling under Fiero’s touch, I whisper as I cling to him, “Fiero, I was so scared. I heard the gunshots, and I thought... I thought...” I let out a sob, burying my face into his chest.
“Don Fiero,” Pietro steps forward, explaining. I found Miss Romola outside the rooms, trying to seek shelter. She was afraid to be alone, and I told her here’s the safest place. I said I’d stay with her until your return.”
“You’re a good man, Pietro,” Fiero nods and smiles at the old gentleman. I was worried sick when I couldn’t find her. You may leave now and take the rest of the night and morning off tomorrow. It’s been a long night; god knows we could all use the sleep.”
“But sir,” Pietro’s eyes widen. “The war?”
“We won, Pietro. You’ve got nothing to worry about. The enemy left.”
“Meno Male” - Thank goodness - Pietro mutters and retreats.
Fiero leads me to his private chambers, telling the men he meets along the way to take a late morning tomorrow.
Once back in his room, he closes the door behind him and turns to me. The diamond feels heavier now, and when he steps close to me, I begin to fear he might feel it through my coat should he press too close.
“It’s terribly hot,” I lie. I remove my coat and place it on a table by the side of his bed.
Fiero nods and steps closer to me, his eyes filled with relief. “Darling, I'm so glad you're safe. I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you," he murmurs, pulling me closer into his protective embrace. “The whole time, all I could think of was how scared you must’ve been.”
I feel immense sorrow in learning that in the midst of all that gunfire, death, and war, all he thought about was my well-being. His touch is warm and comforting. He makes me feel safe when he shouldn’t.
I begin to sob without restraint, unable to hold back the tears. He’s too good for me, and I? A traitor. The guilt crushes my conscience, and I begin to feel like the greatest hypocrite in the world.
