Page 98 of Wicked Rivals

Now, as if proving my point, heavy footsteps climbed the stairs, each thudding hard on the old treads, one after the other.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are, fucking whore.”

“Get ready,” I whispered to Enzo.

He nodded against my chest before tiptoeing to the middle of the bathroom, getting ready to run in either direction.

I hoped the monster would go into Enzo's room first. My son’s bag sat on the bathroom floor beside us, but my bag sat on top of the bed in my room. Of course, I would leave it, but then my plans for a clean escape with the cash I’d saved over the years would go right out the window.

But at least we would be alive.

The lock on my bedroom door clicked.

Oh fuck, he was locking us inside.

He dragged the couch from the living room and shoved it against the door, then he went into Enzo's room.

A cold shudder rippled along my spine.

The man had done his homework. He knew the layout of the apartment. And it hadn’t taken him long to figure out my plan and blow it up so quickly.

There was no time. I had to act. I had to do it immediately.

Both bathroom doors could lock.

So I tiptoed over to turn the lock on the door between us and Enzo’s room. I led my son by the hand into my room. Then, before closing the bathroom door behind me, I locked it.

I met my son’s gaze and mouthed the words “get into the wardrobe” at him.

The stubborn boy shook his head.

I pointed forcefully at the wardrobe. “Now!”

But he still shook his head, mouthing back at me “not without you” as he extended his hand toward me.

With desperate tears stinging my eyelids, I kneeled in front of him and whispered into his ear.

“I need you to hide so you can help Stefano find me. Can you be brave for me? Can you help your father save me?”

It didn't matter whether he and Stefano ever found me. It didn't matter if this man killed me before I got out of the room. I needed Enzo to hide right now. I needed him to be safe.

Stefano would come for our son and fiercely protect him.

Deep down, I’d known all along that if Stefano knew he had a son, he would keep the boy safe. He would succeed where I could only fail.

Enzo nodded, agreeing to do as I asked.

Our attacker broke through the first bathroom door.

My boy scrambled into the wardrobe, pushing his way to the back behind our winter coats and Nonna’s old dresses, so even if the doors opened wide, he would be hidden.

As I closed the wardrobe and turned away from it, the second bathroom door splintered and ripped off its hinges, falling into the bedroom.

My heart leaped into my throat, and I darted to the other side of the room, leading the man away from Enzo’s location.

I pretended to struggle with opening the heavy old window.

The monster stepped into the light.

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