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I didn’t know what to do.
Should I call for help? Should I intervene? My mind raced, but I knew one thing—I couldn't stay idle, not while there was someone in distress and potentially in danger just a wall away.
With my heartbeat pounding in my ears, I determined to head toward the escalating chaos. A loud bang echoed from next door, then silence. My hands flew to my mouth, and a gasp of horror caught in my throat, fear seizing me as I retreated to the bed. I couldn't believe what I had just heard—a gunshot.
Time seemed to freeze in those dreadful moments. Silence descended, stretching into an eerie void, and my mind whirred with a thousand thoughts. Did they kill the man? Who were these men, and why were they after Emilio?
Oh my gosh! Did they want to kill Emilio?!
Panic gripped my throat as I struggled to make sense of what was happening. The idea of rushing out and confronting armed men felt not just dangerous but foolhardy. I sank on the edge of the bed. I was no detective, no action hero. Fear rendered me immobile as I suddenly realized I was in perilous proximity to at least one killer.
My imagination ran wild, conjuring up vivid pictures of bloodstained walls, helpless victims, and the cold brutality of the perpetrators. What if they decided to move to my room next?
Should I call the police? The hotel management? But what if they found out I had overheard everything? What if they decided to silence any witnesses?
I forced myself to take deep breaths, trying to steady my racing heart. I reached for my phone on the nightstand, preparing to dial for help. Pounding started on the door to my room with the same ferocity as before, and the dreaded words were shouted again.
"Apri questa porta!"(Open this door!)
My heart raced even faster, if that was possible. I froze in horror, clutching the phone with trembling hands. I prayed, hoped, that if I stayed utterly silent, they would think the room was empty and move on.
I closed my eyes and bunched up on the bed with my arms around my legs. The pounding and shouting continued. The sound of my breath was loud to my ears.
Would they burst in?
Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, the shouting stopped. The banging ceased, and their footsteps retreated. I stayed curled up on the bed, listening intently, afraid they might return.
When I dared to open my eyes and move, I felt like a survivor emerging from a battlefield. Trembling, I sat up, still holding my phone. My hands were clammy, and my heart still pounded, but the immediate threat seemed to have passed.
Now, the agonizing question remained—what should I do next?
Was it safe to leave the room, or should I remain hidden and call for help?
Chapter 9
Emilio
Itwasatypicalday at Royalty Rentals. Proposals from potential collaborators lay on my desk but my mind was distracted. It kept wandering to the events of the previous night—vivid memories of what Griselda and I had shared kept replaying in my thoughts.
Her face flushed with desire, her moans echoing in my ears… everything about her held an allure to me.
The more I tried to concentrate on the proposals, the more my thoughts drifted back to her. I couldn't pinpoint what it was about her that drew me in so powerfully. Was it her confidence, her laughter, or simply the chemistry we shared that night? Whatever it was, it had left me fighting with the desire to see her again.
However, reality set in when I remembered that I had left in the middle of the night without a word. How would she feel about that? Would she even want to see me again? A part of me wanted to reach out to her to clear the air and express my genuine interest, but the target painted on my back stopped me.
I sighed, trying to shake off these distracting thoughts and focus on the business at hand. I dragged the proposals closer to me and began to sift through them, considering the potential benefits and risks of each partnership.
A knock on the door pulled my attention away.
“Come in!”
The door opened, and Enzo walked in. His usually composed demeanor was replaced by a semi-worried expression, instantly setting off an alarm in my mind.
"What's going on?" I asked, leaning back in my chair.
Enzo took a deep breath as if trying to find the right words.
"We have a problem," he began, walking in and sitting opposite me. "Earlier today, after you had already left the hotel," he began, "soldiers of the Mancini family showed up looking for you."
