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Don Giorgio Bernardi. I feel a surge of anger, but I manage to stay calm.
He drops the cigar on a gold ashtray and gets to his feet. “Who are you? And why did you try to poison one of my men?”
My heart thumps. How did he know that?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t try to kill anyone.”
“Not today, perhaps. We were already looking for you. It’s a pleasant surprise to see you walk in here on you own. Show her the video.” He walks past me, and one of the men turns a silver MacBook to me.
On the screen, I see a video clips of myself in different clubs. I thought my disguises would fool them. But judging by the surveillance he was on to my long ago. Then the montage ends with me sprinkling powder into Marcello’s drink and playing with his phone.
“Show her the next one.”
The video shows Giorgio gouging out someone’s eyes. Screams from the victim make me shudder.What the hell is this?
“That’s what happens to those who lie to me. So, tell me, was that you in the video or not? If yes, why did you do it?”
“It’s a sleeping pill, not poison.” I’d intended to kill him, but after the great sex and his politeness, I decided a sleeping pill was enough.
“I believe you. Otherwise, he’d be dead by now. You still haven’t answered the important questions. Who the fuck are you? What do you want?” he roars.
I can’t tell him who I am. That will completely ruin my plans. As long as I don’t tell them what they want, they’ll keep me alive. “I’m just me.”
He turns back and smacks me hard in the face. My left cheek heats up and my eyes sting with tears. I massage my face, saying nothing.
“You wanna waste my time, huh? I’ll just waste your life...”
Gunshots echo outside the room, the light above goes out, leaving the room dark.
“What the hell is going on? Go check the light. Fix it, damn it!”
A hand grabs me by the wrist as I try to exploit the darkness to escape. Through all the cursing and scrambling in the room, the hand drags me in the passageway and pulls me further ahead. It’s a tight grip. I can’t fight back. My heart flutters desperately against my sternum as we run back to the bar.
A sudden, gut-wrenching realization hits me—someone is aiding my escape. I'm not alone. Uncertainty coils around my heart like a snake, but I don't have time for doubt. I follow the stranger's pace, my mind racing ahead to the multitude of problems we'll face once we're out.
Then, like a breath of air after drowning, we're outside the club, under the shroud of an inky night sky. The exterior of the building glows menacingly as if spotlighting my misdeeds.
I finally get a glimpse of my mysterious savior: hooded, masked, and equipped with infrared goggles.
My heart pounds a chaotic rhythm of fear and desperate hope as he swings a car door open. I leap in without a second thought. On foot, I'd be a sitting duck. The further and faster I can distance myself from this place, the better. I already envision Giorgio's men scouring the streets, their eyes hungry for a trace of me.
"Thank you," I manage to breathe out.
He acknowledges with a curt nod, tension radiating from his every move.
As he climbs into the driver's seat, my gaze remains locked onto him. He roars the car to life and we're off, tearing down the road as though hellhounds are at our heels. Only then does he remove the goggles and pull back his hood.
A cascade of long black hair falls to his shoulders, and he turns to look at me. A half-smile creases his lips, and his green eyes lock onto mine, sparking a whole new layer of confusion and dread.
"Marcello?"
My voice trembles as I utter the name, my mind struggling to connect the dots. And just as he's about to speak, his eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, and his face hardens.
"Get down!"
CHAPTERFIVE
MARCELLO
