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Over the next blissful hours, I'm treated to a succession of luxurious spa experiences. A hot stone massage melts away knots of tension, the smooth basalt working skillful magic on my back and shoulders, leaving my muscles supple as melted butter. Next a replenishing botanical facial cleanses and rejuvenates, fresh aloe, rosehip oil and glycolic acid leaving my skin dewy and revived. Between services, I lounge in a plush robe in the tranquil waiting area, sipping cool cucumber water infused with mint and lemon. Under my security guard's watchful gazes, I'm able to push aside anxious thoughts about the deadly vendettas and obligations waiting for me outside these scented walls...at least temporarily.
But then I see him, shattering my illusion of peace.
Roberto Ferraro stalks into the hushed spa, his panther-like gaze zeroing in on me with unerring precision. Even in the calming surroundings, his powerful presence seems to fill the space. Like a snake slithering into a field of wildflowers, there is a palpable air of menace surrounding him that puts my senses on high alert. The lovely botanical scents that cocooned me just moments ago now cloy in my throat.
"I want to talk with you. Now." His words are a low command, allowing no room for refusal.
I freeze, the crystal water glass nearly slipping from my suddenly nerveless fingers. "I...I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean," I stammer weakly, shrinking back into my chair, my eyes darting around for my guards. But they are nowhere to be seen. How did Ferraro get past them undetected?
Roberto moves with panther-like grace and silence, leaning in close until I'm enveloped in his subtle, masculine scent, his breath hot on my face. "Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean, Clara. Antonio's upcoming arms deal with the Morales cartel. You're going to tell me everything you've learned about his plans." The unspoken threat simmers beneath his soft words.
My tongue darts out nervously to wet my dry lips. I know things I shouldn't - I've seen confidential documents, maps, schedules related to Antonio's intricate weapons smuggling operation. But telling Ferraro could get people killed...maybe even me. And it means I become someone I couldn't look in the mirror each morning.
"I'm just here for some spa treatments, I don't know anything," I say weakly, the lie bitter on my tongue. I avoid Roberto's piercing gaze, his dark eyes searching my face for cracks in my facade.
With sudden, snake-quick movement he grabs my wrist in an iron grip, his fingers digging painfully into the delicate bones and tendons. I gasp at the crushing pressure, resisting the instinct to cry out.
"Let's try this again, shall we?" he hisses coldly. "We both know a little songbird like you has been privy to certain details about the Familia's activities. Tell me everything you've seen and heard about this arms deal and there need be no unpleasantness." To emphasize this point, his grip on my wrist tightens further until I have to choke back a sob, tears of pain springing to my eyes.
"Please, you're hurting me! I don't know anything, I swear!" I gasp out frantically, willing him to believe my lies. Revealing what I know would be a death sentence, for me or someone I care for. Either way, I lose.
A cunning smile spreads across Roberto's handsome face, though it doesn't reach his flinty eyes. "Come now Clara, let's not play games. If you insist on protecting the Familia over yourself, then perhaps you'll talk to spare someone else pain?"
Reaching into his suit jacket pocket, he pulls something out, pressing the object into my trembling free hand. I look down to see my father's watch - the one he's worn every day since before I was born, his name inscribed on the back. The sight of it fills me with sickening dread. If Roberto has this, it can only mean one thing - my father is in mortal danger.
"Tick tock, love," Roberto hisses coldly, finally releasing his crushing hold on my wrist. "Time is quickly running out for dear old papa." With those ominous words still hanging in the air, he turns abruptly and stalks away, patrons scrambling to clear a path, desperate to avoid his smoldering gaze.
I sit frozen in place long after he disappears from view, his threats still ringing in my ears. How can I possibly protect my father when I'm trapped under Antonio's control? He's made it clear that any failure to fully cooperate with the Familia's wishes will mean disaster for my family. Yet betraying Antonio by revealing his secrets to his sworn enemy, the rival Consigliere, twists my insides with shame and trepidation. Either way I turn, I doom someone I care for. I'm being ripped apart by impossible choices on both sides of this deadly vendetta between two ruthless men.
Eventually I stumble through the remainder of my spa treatments - a seaweed body wrap and luxe manicure - moving through the pampering pleasures in a miserable fog. The massage therapist kneads and soothes my aching muscles, clucking over the livid bruises forming around my wrist, her concerned eyes questioning, but I remain resolutely mute about their cause. The refreshing cucumber water turns bitter and metallic on my tongue. All I can focus on is my father in peril and the familiar weight of his watch now burning a hole in my pocket, the metal warming to my body heat.
The drive back to Antonio's sprawling mansion estate is agonizing. With nothing to distract me, my imagination tortures me with all-too vivid visions of my father being tortured, crying out in pain and fear, desperate for a salvation I'm powerless to bring. I press my palms tightly to the glass of the car window, staring sightlessly out at the city streets racing by in a blur. What have I done? In trying to save my father from one ruthless monster, I've now delivered him into the hands of another. Is there no path forward that doesn't end in pain for those I love?
Upon arriving back at the mansion, my security escorts briskly lead me back to Antonio's private study. He sits with his back to me as I enter, continuing an intense conversation on the phone in rapid, heated Italian. When he notices me hovering anxiously in the doorway, he quickly ends the call and strides over to envelope me in a warm, welcoming embrace.
"Clara, you've returned! Come in, come in," he urges, his handsome face breaking into an easy grin. But then his smile falters as he takes in my skittish body language, the lingering terror and despair I know is written plainly across my face. "What is it? What happened?" His voice drops an octave lower, his eyes narrowing.
For a moment, I melt into Antonio's comforting strength as I feel myself on the verge of breaking down. But then I pull back abruptly as the full weight of my impossible predicament sinks in. Hot tears prick the corners of my eyes before I can blink them back.
"I'm sorry, I just...I need to lie down and rest before dinner," I choke out before fleeing the room, ignoring Antonio calling after me, his voice rife with concern and confusion. I can't bear to face him now, to look into his eyes and continue deceiving him. Not when I know the danger facing my father.
I don't stop rushing through the mansion's opulent halls until I've locked myself in the sanctuary of my bedroom suite. Then I lean weakly against the solid door, muffling heart wrenching sobs into the plush velvet throw pillows. The full weight of my impossible predicament comes crashing down on me. However I move, I endanger someone I've come to care about. Antonio has shown me nothing but kindness and protection, yet I'm lying to him, driven by fear for my father's life. But Ferraro is ruthless and vengeful - he'll stop at nothing to crush his enemies, no matter who suffers in the crossfire. I'm trapped, forced to deceive and betray those on both sides of this deadly feud.
Feeling my legs about to give out, I slide down until I'm huddled on the room's plush carpet, hugging myself tightly. I clutch my father's watch to my chest like a lifeline, the cold metal edges biting into my palm. Shutting my eyes tight, I imagine I can feel his comforting warmth radiating from it, hear the steady ticking that marked our moments together throughout my childhood. Is he imprisoned in some dark, isolated warehouse even now, consumed with fear that he'll never see me again? Not knowing is sheer agony; my imagination conjures fresh horrors.
Eventually, my heaving sobs dissolve into hollow, ragged gasps. The breezy sundress I'd been so happy to don this morning now feels constricting, suffocating, like my life in the Familia. I'm unraveling at the seams, unable to maintain even the facade of grace and poise in the face of this soul-wrenching torment. There are no good choices left to me, yet I know I must choose or lose everything. Both men seek to control and use me as a pawn in their deadly game of power, but I refuse to be crushed between them.
Splashing icy water on my blotchy, tear-streaked face, I stare at my reflection in the ornate gilded mirror above the marble washbasin. Behind the reddened eyes, still swimming with fear, I see a spark of defiance. For my father's sake, for my own, I must be strong now. Cunning. However, I've become entangled in this vendetta, I won't be manipulated by either side. If they both want to use me as a piece on their chessboard, I must play the game with steel in my spine and ice in my heart. No more tears.
When this all started, I swore I'd do anything to free my father from the crushing debt that delivered us into the Familia's grasp. Now I harden my resolve, straighten my spine. To navigate the viper's nest I find myself in, for his sake, I will match wits with them all or die in the attempt.
Setting my jaw with grim determination, I slip my father's watch securely into my pocket, feeling the steady rhythmic ticking through the fabric, the metal now warmed from contact with my skin. It's a piece of him to hold close in the lonely days ahead. But I swear to us both that I won't stop fighting until he's safe once more. The monsters who would use us as pawns should know better than to corner a desperate woman.
CHAPTER18
ANTONIO
The salty sea breeze chills my face as I step out of the black sedan, its engine still rumbling behind me. I button my charcoal wool coat tighter against the night's biting chill, thick shadows quickly enveloping me in their inky embrace. Behind me, the twinkling lights of the city glow like distant stars in the inky black sky, a stark contrast to the vast expanse of inky black water stretching endlessly before me into the horizon.
