Page 33 of Bianchi

Massimo rubs at his eyes. “I don’t think it was her, Rome. She didn’t know that the reservation would be for you. All she did was put us in contact with someone at the restaurant and your name wasn’t used.”

I think over what he’s said. I guess that does make sense, but I’m still going to have her looked into. Maybe Callum can do some digging for me.

A knock at the door halts our conversation and Massimo calls out. Daniele and Leonardo enter, dipping their heads to us before taking seats along the wall.

I’m staring at Massimo, waiting for him to take the lead, but he’s watching me expectantly, waiting for my confirmation. Frustrated, I reply to his earlier question, “Yes, I’ll be taking her. Have Maria arrange for a dress but maybe leave the hair and makeup. I don’t need Aurora to look like a high-class hooker.” Again.

Massimo smirks, and with too much sweetness injected into his voice for a man of his position, he asks, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I bite.

Pouting, he sits straighter in his chair and we get to work figuring out a plan for the gala now that we have a lead on Francesco.

Chapter 19

Aurora

Daniele holds Romeo’s bedroom door open for me, inclining his head when I hesitate to enter. I don’t understand why I’ve been sent up here again. Surely any courtesy I’ve been shown is over now? He’s fed me, I’ve slept for hours and now I should be back in my cell?

Daniele sighs heavily as he stares down at me, his impatience clear in the way his jaw works with every second that ticks by. In the distance, there’s a steady hum of chatter, reminding me that we’re not alone.

When the dessert plates were cleared away after dinner, Romeo said something in Italian to Daniele. His chair scraped back, and he looked at me expectantly. My eyes darted to Romeo, but he refused to answer the questions my gaze bore into him.

I guess I have no choice but to cross the threshold and accept whatever fate lies in wait for me. My body tenses, on high alert and aware of the danger lurking in the man behind me.

“Alma will bring you a fresh pad and a hairbrush in the morning.”

I glance over my shoulder, a groove forming between my brows as I tilt my head, certain I must have misheard him. Facing the door, I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts off the attempt with a nod of his head before pulling the door closed. This time, the key turns in the lock, a finality in the sound as it echoes through the room.

Closing my eyes, I picture Romeo moving around doing things I’ve never seen him do. It’s so real and intimate. The faint scent of him lingers in the air, and an anticipation hums in my core at the idea of being in his space. It feels all-consuming and… dangerous.

Blinking my eyes open, I cross the room to stand in front of the window, resting my forehead on the cool pane of glass. The sun has set, leaving the forest-green fields shrouded in darkness. My attention is drawn to the lights illuminating the driveway. If I wasn’t being held captive, I’d be able to enjoy this view. There’s something classic and elegant about it.

A golf cart speeds around the side of the house, coming to a stop at the bottom of the steps before two armed guards climb out of its back seat. They take up residence at the bottom of the steps, their guns cradled in their arms. I imagine the stony expressions on their faces as they settle in to protect the house and its occupants for the night. The cart races off down the driveway, kicking up a cloud of gravel as it goes.

Rolling my lips, I turn away from the window and face the bed. My teeth drag over my bottom lip as I stare at the freshly made sheets. If I’m sleeping in here again tonight, will Romeo sleep in the chair again? Or does he expect something from me in exchange for his hospitality?

I know he’s set on using me to get to my father, but does he have his sights set on using my body too? What happened in the shower was a one-off. I was in shock and I know now, after the fact, that I should have pushed him away.

So why does my body ache to be filled by him again?

Massaging my chest to ease the tingling sensation taking up residence, I look around the room, forcing my mind to focus on why I’m here, how I get out, and who he is, to stop the yearning. He might have made me explode like nobody ever has before, but he’s a murderer. And I’m going to be one of his victims.

For years, I kept myself out of this life and now I’m surrounded by dangerous men with very little regard for me. This isn’t what I want and, the way I see it, I have two options. I can either stay and wait for them to kill me. Or I could find a way out. If I die doing that, at least I tried.

If a swift death is not an option, then I don’t want to live here as a captive. My freedom is all that matters. And that’s why I’m going to run.

A fluttering feeling passes through my chest and I press my lips together, determined to get to work on finding a way out of here. My eyes dart around the room, bouncing from one spot to another. There has to be something in here that I can use. A phone or a radio; anything to communicate with the outside world. Christ, I’d settle for a carrier pigeon at this point.

I dart across the room to the bedside table closest to me. My movements are jerky as I pull it open. Disappointment settles into the pit of my stomach as I stare down at the empty drawer.

Think, Aurora. Where would you hide something that could get me out of here?

The moment my eyes land on the door opposite the bed, it’s like a lightbulb flickering on and guiding me. The closet. An urgency takes over and I fly across the room, barreling through the door. The wood knocks against the cabinetry inside and I freeze as the loud bang reverberates.

I count down from five, staying as still as I possibly can. Only when I’m certain that nobody is coming do I move. I don’t know how long Romeo will be downstairs, or if I’ll get another chance to search for something that might help me make it out of here on my terms, so I need to be careful.

Closing the door behind me as quietly as possible, I pull in a breath, calming my body. Nausea swells in my throat and I shake out my hands to clear the nervousness racing through me.

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