Her hands moved deliberately, undoing the rest of the buttons on her blouse.
She moved at such a slow pace because she didn’t want to undress, but I was also betting it was because she was trying tobuy time. Gio was young and fit, with a high metabolism. If she’d used all the sedative in the bottle, and he had an empty stomach, it could start hitting him in as little as ten minutes.
It was silent in the room, other than her rapid breathing, and the voice in my head that was currently screaming. She finished with the shirt, leaving it open on her shoulders so her pink bra peeked out.
She bent gingerly and pulled off one shoe, followed by the other. Her socks were peeled off. Trembling hands drifted to her pants. The zipper was quiet as she tugged it down, tooth by tooth.
“Faster,” Gio ordered.
The pants fell down, exposing her gorgeous curves decorated with all that pink lace. Everyone watching inhaled sharply, although mine was in horror. Purple-red raised lines tattooed her legs. Welts from the rod she’d been beaten with.
“A woman after all,” he said appreciatively. He leered over every inch of exposed flesh, and rage threatened to pull me apart.
“Before we go further,” her voice was unnervingly calm, “may I have another glass of wine?”
He motioned to the bar,“Go ahead.”
Every action was slow and methodical as she padded to it. The open white shirt of her pilot uniform couldn’t be shed with the handcuffs on. So when she reached the bar, Carlo ordered her to stand still. His knife sawed through the shirt fabric, cutting it away from her shuddering body.
“What happened to your back?” Gio said, repeated by Carlo.
Her words were tight. “I was in an accident.”
He made his “tsk, tsk” noise. “You should have had cosmetics done. It looks awful.”
Despite what she’d gone through, she managed to smile. “The procedure’s expensive. Why do you think I took that terrible job of working for you?”
The realization hit me softer than the rod had, but notby much. She was so self-conscious of her wounds, she’d taken the shady job to save up for treatments. She wanted the physical reminder of that dark night gone.
Gio’s comment about her back seemed to have brought her back on her game, even though she was nearly naked in a room full of men. She stopped shaking, her posture confident again. She poured the glass of wine, took a sip, and her eyes narrowed on the Italian she’d drugged.
“This wine is good,” she said, a lie that only I caught.
Gio smiled, proud. “It’s from my family’s vineyard in Lazio.”
She leaned back against the counter and sipped slowly, pretending to savor it as she stalled for time.
The back of my shirt was drenched with blood, and I hoped it wouldn’t be much longer, or the loss of blood could impact my speed. I considered different scenarios for how to escape, and the best ones all depended on her doing the bulk of the work.
Behind me, the door banged open and Vitale charged in, an ugly glare fixed on his face. “Who do you work for? CIA?”
“No, Vitale, I work for you.”
His posture was stiff with anger. “Tell me what they know, and we can get this over with quickly. It doesn’t have to be too unpleasant.”
“We’re way past unpleasant,” I muttered.
“Do you want this woman to die?” He took in the sight of her, all bruises and lingerie, but she stood strong under his scrutiny. Defiant. “Is she willing to die for you?”
It wouldn’t come to that. I wouldn’t allow myself to even consider that possibility. “She doesn’t know anything.”
“We’ll see. Carlo, what do you suggest?”
“The feet are the most painful.”
“Then we do the feet. I don’t want this to take all night.”
Carlo grabbed her under the arm and began to drag her to the desk, but she struggled.
