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Let’s assume for one second that Barroni was telling the truth, which he isn’t. Could my life really be in danger?I don’t know anything about Tiero’s world, so maybe it is. It would explain the constant security and Alonso guarding me the other day.
But why wouldn’t he tell me about it? Then we could have worked out a plan together. Why kidnap me? It’s just not logical.
And if I’m in danger, then what about Rhia? She’s the closest person in my life, and by association, wouldn’t she be in danger too? I try to calculate when Lex is due back from South America… he’d protect her with his life.
But, he won’t be back for at least another two or three weeks. I need my phone… I need to check that Rhia is okay.
Suddenly, escape is the only thing on my mind.
I need to get away. Especially if I’m being held hostage by Tiero’s enemies.
I’m not going to wait around to see what they’re going to do with me. If Tiero doesn’t come to the party, they might sell me to some sheik and ship me off to the Middle East. No, I’m not letting that happen.
And if Tiero was behind this kidnapping, it’s even more reason to escape. I sure as hell wouldn’t ever want to see him again.
But there is so much security… how will I flee?
Da always used to say,“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”I just have to find it.
And I will… if it’s the last thing I do.
I see Mariella walking down the path, carrying a tray.
“I have more food and English books if you want to read,” she says, her eyes kind and warm.
I force a smile. ”Grazie, Mariella. I appreciate it.”
“If you need me, please buzz.” She puts an old-fashioned pager on the table and turns to leave.
The aromatic smell of freshly baked bread drifts over, making my stomach rumble.
There’s a delicious-looking platter of cut fruit, a seafood salad, bread that’s still warm from the oven, and a small pizza with fresh tomatoes and basil.
Perhaps I should go on a hunger strike. Who am I kidding? I wouldn’t last a day. I love food way too much. Plus, if I want to get away, I need all the energy I can get.
I mindlessly eat the seafood salad as I try to come up with a plan.
How will I get out of here? Walking out the front door with a middle finger salute would be fun but isn’t going to happen.
On the way to this alcove, I saw a couple of security guards patrolling, large guns hanging around their shoulders.
I bet there are plenty of security cameras monitoring every inch of the house and gardens. Instinctively, I glance around, trying to spot them, but can’t see any.
Stepping up to the balustrade again, I take in everything around me, near and far.
I was hoping if I followed the coastline, I could see some houses in the far distance, but there’s nothing for miles.
I peer down the cliff—it’s steep and at a guess over three-hundred-feet high. If only I could get down there, then I could walk along the shoreline. Surely, I’d reach some houses before too long.
But how will I get down to the shore undetected?
Guards don’t appear to be venturing down this way. Probably because I’m here and they’re instructed to stay away. That’s in my favor.
I look down the rocky cliff. Where is abseiling gear when you need it? I laugh at the insane thought of there being a shed conveniently holding all the gear needed to escape… if only.
A book I read ages ago pops into my head. It was about a woman who survived a plane crash in the Rocky Mountains and made her way back to civilization through the roughest of terrains all on her own. At one stage, she faced climbing down a rock cliff, which seemed impossible. But she studied her obstacle for some time and after a while could see a path of rocks sticking out far enough for her to have sufficient footing to climb down.
Where there’s a will, there’s a way.
