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“Alonso, take Ella to my office. I will deal with her later.” Gualtiero’s stone-cold voice orders.
Deal with me later? What the hell?!
Alonso grabs my arm and pulls me toward the back of the club, while Oriana flanks my other side. Oh, she’ll be loving this.
We head to a walled-off area at the back of the horseshoe in long strides, and I nearly have to run to keep up with him.
I’m so furious. Absolutely no one has ever treated me so rudely. My anger is reaching boiling point.
“Alonso, let go of my arm,” I huff, ready to kick him. He doesn’t release me, though, nor does he slow his pace.
When we get to a door in the wall, Oriana pushes it open, and Alonso drags me inside. Oriana positions herself outside the door while Alonso lets go of me with a shake of his head.
“This wasn’t your smartest move,” he mutters before leaving and closing the door, probably to stand next to his colleague outside. I can just picture them, legs spread wide, ready to draw their weapons if anyone dare approach.
I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart.
What is Gualtiero going to do to Blondie?
I pace the small room, a cluster of conflicting emotions bombarding me. I don’t know what to think or feel first.
There’s anger… a lot of anger about the way Gualtiero just treated me… like I was nothing, like what I had to say didn’t matter. But that’s hardly new. What I want matters little in Gualtiero’s world.
He takes what he wants without asking and expects obedience.
Good luck with that!
My defiance rears up like a wild stallion… or mare, in my case. I won’t be pushed aside. Unless he wants to kill me, he’ll have to deal with me speaking my mind.
Unfortunately, the next emotion flickering to life is fear… fear for the life of an innocent man. I guess no one told him flirting with the mob boss’s girl was a bad idea. I’m certain that if he makes it out of here alive, he’ll have learned this lesson tonight.
Oh please God! Let him make it out of here alive! I don’t want his death on my conscience.
This can’t be happening! How did Gualtiero even see Blondie touching me? This all escalated way too fast.
And then there’s fear for myself. Gualtiero nearly lost control of himself earlier. I shudder to think what could have happened. What will he do to me now, being so provoked?
I will deal with her later.
Anger and terror surge through me all at once. God, I hope he calms down before he comes in here. I can understand now why he makes such an excellent mob boss. He instills fear without even trying.
I have no idea how much time passes. It feels like forever since I was put into this room. In reality, it’s probably been less than ten minutes.
What’s going on?
Where is Gualtiero?
Is he disposing of a body? No, I chide myself, let’s not even go there.
There are no windows in this room and the space is illuminated by a few dimmed lamps. Three coffee tables are in the center with several low-set armchairs placed around them.
There’s a desk off to one corner, and I spot a large monitor sitting on it with live feeds from security cameras. This is how Gualtiero must have known about Blondie. Shit, I’m really under constant surveillance. How can anyone live like this?
If I was bored in the club before, it’s nothing compared to being holed up in here. I’ve calmed down enough to think more clearly. I sit down at the desk and study the live feeds flickering over the screen. Maybe they’ll give me a clue to what’s going on, or maybe they’ll even help me get out of here.
Who am I kidding? With my two bodyguards in front of this door, there’s little chance of getting away.
I see Alonso and Oriana standing at the door when the camera switches to that area. They just stand there with expressionless faces, tall and straight, legs apart for optimum balance. They don’t talk. They don’t move. What a boring job this must be.
