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“Fifth floor, room 505,” squeaks the kid, reaching under the desk then sliding a key card towards me.
I snatch it up and bolt for the stairs, not wanting to wait for the lift, and take them two at a time. By the time I reach the fifth floor, Gianni is exiting the lift and we stride towards room 505. There’s a Do Not Disturb sign hooked round the handle. Gianni knocks on the door while I take a moment to catch my breath and load my gun before sliding it back into my waistband.
There’s no answer so Gianni knocks again.
“Fuck off!” We hear from within, then a woman’s scream.
I nod at Gianni, and he slides the key card into the reader. There’s a click, the light turns green, and we enter the room.
Lombardi is standing, shirtless, at the foot of the bed, the phone in his hand angled downwards. A clearly distressed Cecelia is lying on the bed wearing a black fitted dress and her hands are secured to the headboard with black ties. Red strappy shoes lay abandoned on the floor. She’s crying and wriggling, trying to wrench herself free.
“What the fuck?” Lombardi takes a step back, his mouth slack. He drops the phone. I take pleasure from the fear and panic in his eyes as he flicks his gaze between Gianni and I, both of us at least a head taller than him, then at the open door behind us. Gianni kicks the door closed and I lunge forwards, arm pulled back like a slingshot, the crack audible as my fist makes contact with his nose. He cries out and instinctively brings his hands to his face, the spurting blood already dripping down his fingers.
A wild-eyed, rabid animal backed into a corner, he barrels forwards, knocking full force into me, but Gianni’s a brick wall behind us both. I duck out from in between the two men, moving over to Cecelia, as Gianni grabs hold of Lombardi by the shoulders and headbutts him. Lombardi crumples to the floor and Gianni sits down heavily on the edge of the bed rubbing his own head.
While Lombardi is out for the count, I rush over to Cecelia, telling her I’m here to save her. Her pupils are wide, her cheeks are flushed and tear stained, and her chest is rising and falling quickly. It takes me back to that night I found her in Ricci’s cellar and my heart aches for her. Taken against her will twice in five years and subjected to men’s dark desires. I vow to do everything in my power to keep her safe from now on, for the rest of her life.
While I’m untying Cece, Gianni has recovered enough to check Lombardi’s pockets. He finds a ripped wrap in his suit jacket and unfolds it, showing us the blue powdery residue inside.
I close my eyes briefly and slam my hand against the wall, needing an outlet for my anger
“This looks like an aphrodisiac drug, boss,” he says.
“What!?” cries Cecelia.
I run my hands through my hair and pace between the bed and the window while I consider what to do next. Primarily, I need to get Cece away from Lombardi.
“I’m going to take her home, Gi. Can you bring the car round then contact Carmello and ask him to meet us at my place later?”
“No problem,” he says.
“Is your head okay?” I ask him.
“Yeah, of course,” he confirms, as if I asked a stupid question. I feel a rush of gratitude for my loyal associate.
I gather Cecelia up, her petite form shaking in my arms, and head out of the hotel room. As I pass Lombardi, I look down at him, unconscious and bleeding. Blood spatter on his chest and the patterned carpet. Repulsed, I resist the urge to spit on him or shoot him and leave without a backward glance.
Shortly after I’ve brought Cecelia home, Gianni arrives. We talk while Cecelia is in the bathroom.
“Boss, I dropped Lombardi off in his own backyard, got rid of his phone and gave the kid on reception another sweetener to forget he ever saw us tonight, just in case. I also made it clear what would happen if he does decide to shoot his mouth off.”
I nod and thank him, appreciating his thoroughness amongst all the chaos. Any sniff of trouble could send us both back to prison.
“I’ve also brought Miss DeMarco’s bag and shoes. Her phone’s in her bag and she’s got a few texts on her home screen from her sister Connie. She might worry if there’s no reply.”
I think for a moment. I don’t want to alert Cece’s family to what happened tonight just yet—I suspect I might be the last person they want to hear from—but I need a way to let them know she’s safe. After what happened in Naples, it could be too much for them if she just disappears without a trace again.
“Thanks, Gi. I’ll tell Cece to reply saying she’ll be home in the morning. I think she should stay here overnight.”
Gianni and I look at each other.
“This all feels a bit like déjà vu, boss.”
I smile wryly. It does.
As soon as Gianni leaves, I wait for Cecelia to finish in the bathroom then show her to my guest bedroom. She’s washed the tears from her face but still looks shell shocked from the events of the evening. She agrees to my suggestion of staying here tonight.
“Here, drink this.” I pass her a glass of water after she’s messaged her sister. She glugs the liquid thirstily then replaces the empty glass on the bedside table, regarding me with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. Despite the exchange in my office last week, I get the sense she still trusts me and for that I am immensely grateful. I sit back down on the bed, feeling the tremors of her trembling body through the mattress.
