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I know I have the Medicis to thank for everything. The simple fact is that none of this would have happened if Rayne hadn’t started working for them, but that’s hardly her fault. She didn’t know who the Medicis were.
Now we all know who they are.
Ruthless men who rule this city. I thought the people who kidnapped me were bad, but what happened to them after I was rescued is something out of a horror movie. Apparently, Angelo and his brothers don’t take kindly to sex traffickers.
Angelo saved my life. For that, I’ll always be grateful.
I’m alive. I’m here with my sister again, and it’s over.
If I can just keep my mind away from the horrors of that cell, then I’ll be okay.
My sister has fallen hard for the man at the helm of this enterprise, the man she was supposed to assassinate.
We definitely need to talk about that. While I owe them my life, I don’t know how I feel about Rayne being involved with a mafia family, especially men who kill and it all gets swept under the carpet.
Oh yeah, they own the police as well.
I don’t remember much about when they brought me in. It was all hazy. I recall meeting their mother and sister, who both seemed very nice when they looked after me for those few short hours.
Then there’s Dante. The one who comforted me in my hour of need.
Untying me like that, keeping me calm. I don’t remember his words, though they were calm and soothing. There was so much running through my mind I don't even know if I said anything back. Everything is a blur. I know he was gentle and kind, and he tried his best to reassure me while I sat shaking.
He had a warmth to him that radiated into my soul. Even in my fog, I felt it. He doesn’t seem as rough or as scary as Angelo and the others, though maybe I’m wrong. I’m not an expert on mobsters.
The Medici men are to be feared. That’s what I’ve learned.
Rayne stays with me until I fall asleep, but it's torturous. I wake up early, before the sun rises, and take a sip of water from the side table. I know Rayne is just down the hall if I need her, but really what I need is some tea. My throat feels dry and hoarse.
I pull a hoodie over my head from the bag Rayne packed for me with some spare clothes. Everything I own is back in New York City. My cell phone is long gone.
Then there are my friends, I haven’t stopped thinking about them. I need to talk to Ashley and Caroline as soon as possible. Rayne mentioned she contacted them to explain I’d come down with a terrible flu and needed to spend some time with her in Boston. I don’t know if they genuinely bought it.
I feel achy and sore as I make my way to the kitchen. Taking a proper hot shower and washing my hair last night felt like bliss. It’s another thing I never really thought about until it was taken away from me. I don’t think I’ve ever sighed so loud as when the glorious water ran down my back.
I hope none of the Medicis mind me creeping around their house at the crack of dawn, but it’s not like I’m a prisoner anymore.
As I tiptoe down the hall toward where I hope to find the kitchen, I marvel at how quiet this big stone fortress is when everyone slumbers. There were so many people here last night, coming and going. I don’t know who any of them were, but they looked official.
Now everything is silent, peaceful, like nobody is here.
Despite feeling ragged around the edges, I feel safe here. If I don’t think too closely about being in the most prominent crime family in Boston’s compound, I can just about make it okay in my mind.
I work my way down the hallway and finally stumble upon the kitchen. It isn’t like I had a grand tour when they brought me here just a few hours ago.
I stifle a yawn as I walk in. Locating the tea kettle with a bit of help from the early morning sunlight peeking through the blinds, I fill it with water at the sink and click it on. It’s very country-ish here and oddly homey.
I hunt around for a moment to try and find the tea bags when I hear someone clear their throat behind me.
I jump about ten feet in the air as I spin around and yelp when I see that big dude standing right in the doorway. He was so quiet, I didn’t hear him come in. Rocco, I think it is.I hold my hand to my chest while I try to slow my heart rate.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, his tone low.
I purse my lips and look up at him. He takes up thewholefreaking doorway.
“J-just making some tea.” I nod towards the kettle. I’m wondering what the hell he’s doing up so early, or maybe that’s his job and he never sleeps. “If that’s okay?”
He gives me a subtle nod but doesn’t speak.
