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Chapter 14
Isabella
I can’t help but feel the Falcones are up to something. We ended up coming back from the Hamptons earlier than expected, and the last two days there, the boys and Franco kept whispering and having these pow wows in Italian, speaking much too fast for me to follow. I don’t like the feeling in the air, and I can’t help but think that my time is running out to find something before they find me out. I have seen enough of their inner workings now to know they always know where their enemies are and what they are doing. They have connections everywhere, and a few bucks or Franco’s name gets them anything they want. Our time in the Hamptons made that clear.
It took everything in me not to run away when we ended up at a fancy dinner table across from a known terrorist.
To make it up to me, he has had some massage therapists come so we can have a spa day, but he is spending an awfully long time in there with his masseuse. I would not be surprised if she was giving him more than a massage, but why should I care? Even if this was real between us, I would know better than to think Franco Falcone would be exclusive with me.
My massage is now over, and I am taking the time to search the house, his office in particular, for any evidence that can be used. I hope I can get away tomorrow and show that and the cloned phone to Z and see if it’s enough, because I am really sick of giving my body to him. For a man of almost 60, he has a lot of stamina.
I go through the drawers like my life depends on it, because it just might, and I don’t hear him when he comes in. Not until he leans against the doorway and says, “Tsk tsk, what do we have here? Could it be Teresa is not who she says she is?” I turn and try to train my expression to be neutral as I look at the eldest Falcone son, Alfred, or Al as he is more ‘lovingly’ referred to.
“What the hell do you mean by that?” I ask him, my hands on my hips. These men only respond to strength like theirs, so I go that route, hoping to get him off the trail.
“Even our mother wasn’t allowed in his office, and here you are, rifling through his business things,” Al spits at me.
I shake my head. “I didn’t know his office would be so off limits. I was only looking for a notepad to do something sentimental. You may all think I am just some gold digger, but he has helped me a lot, and it means something to me that he has just accepted me into his life.” I sigh and go past him, relieved internally when he lets me pass by. Maybe he will just let it go.
But then he grabs me by the waist and throws me over his shoulder. I squeal and kick, but try not to actually harm him. It will look worse for me if I do.
“You can take it up with my father,” he says, barging into the room where Franco is putting his clothes back on after the massage.
“What is the meaning of this!” he yells, his face turning red. Not good at his age.
I am dropped on the ground with a loud thud, rubbing my neck from the whiplash and glaring up at Al as he cuts off my chance to talk.
“I caught her looking through all your shit in your office. I don’t think this Teresa is what she seems to be. I have felt weird about her this whole time. I thought it best I let you decide what to do with her.”
I stand up in front of Al, glad for my height. I almost black him out completely from Franco’s vision. “I’m sorry for being in your office without permission. I was simply looking for the most likely place to find a notepad where I could work on something sentimental for you. I wanted to show you what it means to me that you have taken me as a part of all your lives so quickly. But he ruined the surprise, I guess.” I hook my thumb back at Al, hoping that the fact that I am a young woman who puts out will cloud Franco’s vision. It’s not like crime families don’t betray each other all the time anyway.
Franco looks at me with soft eyes, coming towards me. His hand caresses my face, and I close my eyes as if I am enjoying it immensely. But then he says, “Put her with the other one.”
“Antonio!” Al screams as he pulls me against him, holding me. Antonio, the middle son, comes rushing into the room. “Help me get her to the car.”
Franco turns his back on us, and I know that he no longer will believe a word I say. But that doesn’t mean I won’t fight for my fucking life. I remember everything from training. I buck my head back and get Al in the chin, my feet going out at Antonio wildly. But he grabs them and twists them, almost breaking my left leg. “I suggest you cooperate if you want to be able to live through the night. I can break every bone in your body and cut you and leave you bleeding, or we can go have a talk.”
I haven’t had many dealings with Antonio, but I get the feeling he is sadistic and no one to fuck with. I finally give in and let them get me to the back of an SUV, resigned to my fate. I reach in my pocket and turn on the location services on my burner phone and let it drop into the floorboard as I pretend to fight them one more time just so they won’t see what I’ve done. Hopefully, Marcel will come looking for me eventually and be able to track me. And if not him, then Z, though I don’t know what the CIA does to those who get captured like this. They might just rather see me dead.
We arrive in the dark to a butcher shop of all places. Instead of walking in the front door I am taken in the back, carried down, down, until we reach the freezer where all the meat hangs. I try not to gag at the look of it and instead focus on the unconscious girl lying next to the spot where they throw me down. As they tie me up, I look for signs of life. She is breathing, her chest rising and falling slowly. I don’t know who she is or why she’s here, but she will probably be my only ally now.
