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With my back against the wall, I surveyed my surroundings in a quick sweep to check none of his men were around and then ran. I raced as fast as my little legs would carry me towards the bottom of the hill, jumping and weaving through the trees until I reached the lake. My heart was pounding, but the buzz of adrenaline was spurring me on. I quickly glanced over my shoulder to see Stefano’s figure emerge at the top of the hill. Shit. I waded into the lake, cursing at the freezing temperature before I dived headfirst and started to swim across. Once I made it to the other side, I climbed out onto the bank and started to run through the tall trees towards the stone wall. My body shivered as Alessio’s wet clothes stuck to my skin and the sharp twigs cut my feet, but I kept on running. The wall was in sight and I could taste my escape. Once I was over that wall, I would find someone to help me. A fisherman who could take me back to the mainland perhaps.
I reached the towering structure, placed the shoe in the band of the shorts and started to look for any stones that I could get a good grip on, hoisting myself up. I was nearly at the top when I felt a large hand wrap around my ankle and yank me back. I screamed, clinging to the wall with all my might but they were too strong. I fell back into a muscular body and scrambled, clawing at him as his large arms gripped around my waist and held me down. I reached for the heel and started smacking it into his head with frantic blows. The man groaned and hissed but managed to rip the shoe from my hand just as Stefano arrived at the scene.
“Let me go!” I screamed at them both as they lifted me off the ground and started to carry my wriggling body back towards the house.
“Inform Boss,” Stefano ordered the other one, once I had given up the fight and panted with exhaustion. Tears started to well in my eyes, but I shoved them down. I had been so goddamn close.
Breaking Point
I leaned against the cellar wall and nodded to Fabi to remove the black hood from Rico’s head. The man was in bad shape. He’d been tied up in heavy chains and left to sleep on the cold, stone floor with no food. From the pungent smell in the air and the stain on his jeans, he had pissed himself at some point. Hopefully, a night down here alone would have been enough to make him talk.
I had the chambers here for business. I preferred not to torture and kill on my land, but sometimes it was necessary. It was vulgar down here. The walls were tainted with blood and death. No one had ever bothered scrubbing them. I had done some terrible things in this place and the memories and darkness crawled to the surface with every suffocating second I spent down here.
His bloodshot eyes blinked against the dim lighting of the single bulb that swung from the ceiling. He cried out in panic when two of my men lifted him onto a chair before me. I stared at him as his head swivelled from left to right, taking in his bleak surroundings and the intimidating faces.
“Where am I? Why are you doing this?” he cried, no longer trying to mask his fear. He was close to breaking point and I smiled. It wouldn’t take much to get everything I needed from him. I pushed off the wall and walked towards the table in front of him. Flicking open the iron toolbox that I kept all my torture devices in, I slowly started to place them one by one on the table, giving them each their own moment of glory. Rico’s eyes bulged with every blade, plier and knife.
“Please! Please! What do you want?” he screamed and I paused, leaning my body against the table and folding my arms.
“Answers,” I said calmly. “When did you start working for Giovanni Buccini?”
He shook his head aggressively, dropping his chin to his chest. “I don’t work for him. I work at La Casetta! I have never even met that man.”
I tilted my head. He didn’t seem to be lying.
“Look at me when you answer,” I ordered and his head whipped up. His bottom lip was trembling as he blubbered in despair. “So how did you meet Elenora Buccini?”
“I was hired. For a bachelorette party. She was there,” he mumbled.
I clicked my tongue, “I need more details than that.”
“I-I was an exotic dancer. I went to their house and danced at the party. I-I stayed and had a drink with Elle afterwards and we started talking. I told her about La Casetta.”
Jealousy rippled through me at the mention of them having a drink together, but I pushed it down. “And then what happened?”
“I gave her my number. I told her to ring me if she ever wanted to see me again. If she wanted to come to the club.”
“Did you tell her who owned the club?” I asked, lifting one of the knives and twirling the end against my finger.
His head started shaking violently, “No. No, I swear. I didn’t think I would hear from her again, but she rang me a few days later. She said she wanted to come to the club, but she couldn’t sign up as a member. She was desperate to come for just one night and offered to pay me to get her in secretly.”
I inhaled deeply and placed the knife back down. “Why did she want to come to the club in secret?”
“I don’t know! But I think she was scared about her family finding out. Something about feeling trapped and needing just one night off. I think her brother is really strict and protective or something.”
I scoffed, shaking my head. I believed him. I could tell he wasn’t involved with Giovanni and Elenora’s plans. But now I was doubting other things. Was that the truth? Had she come on her own accord or was it all an undercover operation?
“So, she came to the club and you gave her the identity of ‘Flora’. What was the plan once she was inside?”
“There wasn’t a plan. She was nervous. She nearly backed out. But once she was inside, her curiosity took over. She was intrigued by everything. She was only there to see it and experience it,” he rambled quickly and I frowned. Memories of the moment I first saw her came to mind. So flustered and out of her depth. She had been sent to my table by the barman. She had tried to get another girl to give me the tour. Was it possible that she really didn’t know who I was?
“Did she talk to you about me?” I pulled out my gun from the back of my trousers and started to polish it with my shirt, giving it a nice clean shine. He gulped as his eyes watched the motion.
“No! The next day, Boss rang Flora—the real Flora—and said you had complained. I rang Elle to tell her and she was pissed. I told her she had to come back to the club one more time to sort it out and she agreed. She pretended to be at an art gallery that night, so her family didn’t know and she sneaked out the back and into the club. That was the last night I saw her, I swear.”
Art gallery? I quickly pulled out my phone and searched through my messages from Finn’s burner phone. The same exact night she handcuffed me to a wall, he had texted me to say he would be in Venice and Elle was at an art gallery. I remember feeling torn between turning up at that art gallery just to catch a glimpse of Elenora Buccini or going to the club. But Flora won. I rubbed my forehead as a low, unpredictable chuckle left my lips. Finn was telling the truth. She had fooled him. She hadn’t been there for Giovanni. Which means, everything between us had been real.
“Please! I am telling you the truth, Signor! I gave her Flora’s phone because I was worried the boss would call after she quit so unexpectedly.”
