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“If you touch her, I will cut off your hand.”
If he touches me, Giovanni will cut off his hand. Is this because of what happened with his tutor? Because his father slept with her?
A few minutes later, he’s back and in the car. I feel the rage coming off him. I remain silent, watching him. His face is set, eyes straight ahead. He’s fuming.
“Take her home,” he says, giving the instruction to Vincent.
“Home?” I guess I don’t expect him to let me walk away like that.
I don’t want to say I’m let down. I’m not. It’s not disappointment at all. Just surprise.
But maybe he’s already tired of me. I should be glad. It’s what I want.
He glances at me. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to go home.”
“Yes, but… What happened in there?”
“Nothing that concerns you.”
“You threatened to cut off your father’s hand if he touched me.”
He just watches me.
“Why would you do that?”
“You don’t know our history, Emilia. What you think you know—that’s not it.”
“Then explain it to me.”
He takes a long time before he answers. “Trust me, this is in your best interest.”
“I don’t understand—”
“It’s not for you to understand.” We don’t speak again until we’re parked outside my building. “Pack a bag. I’ll send someone for you in a few hours. In the meantime, you’re not to leave your apartment.”
“What? Why not? You can’t just bring my world to a standstill.”
“Believe it or not, Emilia, it’s to keep you safe.”
“What, this is in my best interest too?”
He reads a text message on his phone, ignoring me.
“I need to work,” I say.
“Pack your work things, then.” Vincent opens the door. Giovanni is busy with whatever new message he’s reading. “Vincent will walk you up.”
“That’s it? You’re not going to tell me anything else?”
He stops reading, looks at me, and cocks his head to the side. “Do you tell me anything, Emilia?” I don’t reply. “Exactly. Don’t leave the apartment, understand?”
I just snort and step out of the car.
Vincent walks me up to my apartment and even sweeps it before leaving. I’m surprised he’s allowing me to stay here alone because part of me knows I’m safest at Giovanni’s house. But then again, he probably has a man stationed outside.
Once I’m alone, the first thing I do is search through my kitchen drawers to find the old phone I keep as a backup. I’ve never had to use it before, but since I don’t have my purse, I’m glad I always kept this one. But it’s a couple of years old, and it needs to be charged before I can even turn it on. I plug it into the wall and locate my spare keys. I make some food while I wait, wishing it were later in the day, wanting the cover of darkness.
I do as Giovanni said and pack some things, then change into running clothes and put on a baseball cap, pulling my hair through it. I tuck some cash into my armband. Once the phone is charged, I stick the headphones onto my ears, but nothing is playing. I just want the man Giovanni has following me to believe I’m going out for a jog. It was easy enough to lose him last time. I doubt I’ll have an issue now, even though it’s daytime.
I walk out the door and tuck the key into the pocket in my shorts. I look up and down the street when I get outside, pretending to stretch as I scan for the soldier. He’s in his car a little ways down the street.
A few minutes later, I hop down the stairs and move into a steady jog, warming up my muscles gently as I navigate the pedestrian-filled streets. I know the man in the car is following me, but I’ll lose him at the next street.
When that light turns green, I drop down, pretending to tie my laces. I take my time as cars honk their horns, forcing the driver through the intersection. He’ll wait at the next block, I’m sure, but when the light turns red, I pop into the coffee shop on the corner and exit through the side door, where I hurry through the narrow alley and come out on another busy street. From there, I cross two more city blocks before hailing a taxi and giving him the address. I’m out of breath when I glance behind me, but I’m pretty sure I’ve lost him. And if I haven’t already, I will in the sea of yellow taxis. I take out my phone and dial Nan. I never make this call from home. It’s a rule for myself. Even if Alessandro found me, I won’t take the chance he’ll find what I’m hiding.
Nan answers on the second ring.
“Emilia, honey? Is that you?”
“Hi, Nan. How are you?”
“Oh, honey, I’m so glad you called. I’ve been so worried all day.” She’s alarmed, which immediately makes me nervous
