Page 123 of Disarming Caine

“Sì, I’m sure she is.” I hurried through the ballroom, nodding to people who tried to stop me for conversation. Waving instead of clasping hands and avoiding open arms for hugs.

Was she even upstairs? Was it all a ruse? Had she already left the building?

Perhaps it was news about the Johnsons or the Constable? She hated being late, but sometimes those things captured every brain cell and she lost herself.

Marone, she said she loved me. Was that the last straw for her? Did it terrify her so much she had to leave?

I hit the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time.Stop doubting her. She’d be up in our room, nursing the migraine. She’d be alone.

Or could it be Miller?

I stumbled as I hit the sixth floor landing and put a hand out to catch myself.

She wouldn’t do that. Miller might, but she wouldn’t.

Or that man with the gray eyes who’d been staring at her when we arrived.

She’d had far too much to drink. I’d only seen two glasses of wine and the champagne, but she must have had more when my attention was elsewhere. Had someone taken advantage of that?

I leaned against the wall and sucked in deep breaths. Arriving at the room in such a state wouldn’t help anything.

No jealousy. She was not Faith, she wouldn’t cheat on me.

Be yourself, Antonio.Light footsteps the rest of the way. Light voice. Teasing manner.

“Samantha?” I knocked gently on our door, but there was no response, so I pulled out my keycard and unlocked it. The security bar prevented it from opening more than a crack. At least that meant she was inside.

The lights were on. Shouldn’t they be off if she had a migraine?

I called through the opening, “Bella, is everything alright?”

“I’m here.” Her voice was strained. “Just waiting for my migraine meds to kick in.”

“Unlatch the door so I can come in.”

“No,” she snapped, a sound sending a shock wave through me. “I need quiet right now and to not move. I’ll be out in a few.”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my tone playful. Another man was not in there. “You’ve been up here an hour already. The countdown is in forty-five minutes. You’ll miss it.”

“Medication should take about fifteen more minutes. But you know me.” She paused, her speech slowing. “I’m always fifteen minutes late for everything. So make it thirty.”

My stomach dropped. She was never late. And certainly not fifteen minutes late for everything. It was a code. Something was terribly wrong in there and she needed fifteen minutes.

“Sì,” I said, trying to keep the panic at bay, repeating it back to her to acknowledge I’d understood. “You’re always fifteen minutes late for everything. I’ll see you downstairs in thirty.”

I closed the door and set a fifteen minute timer on my watch. My brain fought to remain in control. I had to stroll to the stairwell in case someone was in the room with her, listening for me. I pulled out my phone once the door shut behind me. My fingers shook as I searched in my phone for the number she’d given me after the shooting at her hotel.

When he answered, I blurted, “Jimmy, this is Antonio Ferraro! Samantha’s in trouble!”

Chapter 43

Samantha

Thedoorclosed,andAntonio’s footfalls faded. David watched through the peephole, gun still pressed against where he’d aimed it at Antonio’s head. David had changed a lot in the last four months. Once he’d stripped off the blond wig, I noticed his hair had thinned and he’d lost at least twenty pounds. His eyes weren’t as sharp as they’d been in August. The man looked beaten down, which didn’t bode well for me.

“Good job, Ms. Caine.” Olivia smiled. “Your boyfriend gets to live.”

“Why thirty minutes?” I pushed against the duct tape with my lower legs, attempting to twist at an angle—the only way I could rip through the tape.

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