Page 258 of Marcello

Lucrezia sent three of our guys – Mazzacane, Puorco, and Zoppo – as an advance team to Florence with instructions she didn’t share with anyone else.

And, weirdly enough, she made me take her to a high-end camera shop where she bought a telescope – the kind an astronomy buff would use for stargazing. Why, I had no idea.

Amongst all the preparations, there was packing, and drawing up plans, and a thousand phone calls.

I tried to grab an hour of sleep here and there, when I could –

But I was always at her side.

It wasn’t until the evening before we left that I got a chance to return to the Amatos’ mansion.

When I got back, I immediately searched the kitchen for food to take Giulietta. Unfortunately, the cupboards and refrigerator had been stripped bare. The only things left were crushed, empty plastic water bottles lying around on the counters.

I didn’t like that she would be drinking after a bunch of gross Camorra thugs, but we were well past the point of squeamishness. I filled up a dozen bottles using the kitchen faucet, snapped on the caps, and put them in another grocery bag.

The castle was bloodstained and stank of piss and vomit, but everyone in the crew was sober again – which meant everything was much better guarded. I had to order a couple of guys on the second floor to go on a wild goose chase for me downstairs.

Once they were gone, I slipped inside the secret passageway, closed the door, and continued down the tunnel using my phone as a flashlight.

When I got to the hole in the ceiling, the faint stench of urine and shit hung in the air. I was confused for a second – until I remembered that she didn’t have a bathroom in there.

Goddammit…

My poor girlfriend…

“Giulietta,” I whispered, then caught myself. “Laura.”

“Marcello?” she whispered from the other side of the wall.

“I’m here,” I said happily, overjoyed to hear her voice.

“Can you get me out of the house?” There was a hopefulness in her voice that broke my heart.

“No… I’m sorry. The place is crawling with guards. There’s no way to get you out right now. And I have some bad news.”

“Worse than my being trapped in a dirty, dark tunnel?” she asked with gallows humor.

“Unfortunately, yes. I have to go to Florence tonight.”

“What?! Why?!”

“My boss is going after Dario Rosolini.”

“Why?!”

“He wants revenge for killing his father in prison.”

Her voice became panicked. “Oh my god… the Rosolinis are dangerous, Marcello!”

“It’ll be fine,” I promised her, trying to fake a reassuring tone. “They don’t know we’re coming.”

“Can’t you ask to stay here?!”

“I tried – it didn’t work. I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise – it just might be a day or two. Can you climb out to see me?”

“No… I smell bad,” she whimpered.

“I don’t care. Please come out… please?”