Page 3 of His Little Spitfire

Eliza

One way or another, I plan on escaping this hellhole. I don’t care how I’ve got to do it.

This bastard Bertelli feels comfortable enough to sleep next to me. Even through the darkness, the moonlight gives him away. Each slow rise of his chest is constant. I hope he’s having a nightmare.

I don’t know how he can sleep. Even with all my efforts of fighting this man, I’m feelingwired. Like a constant shot of adrenaline is coursing through my veins, I’m feeling another itch to get out of here.

There’s a door not too far away. From the occasional pass of a shadow, I can tell they don’t have too many people keeping guard on the second floor.

They must have more on the first. Otherwise, why wouldn’t my baby sister have succeeded at her own escape?

I recall trying to persuade her before this marriage mess came to be. She looked hesitant, even at the thought of us getting away and surviving on our own. Despite my promise of not needing Rocco or anyone, it wasn’t enough.

She wants to stay here. I don’t understand why, or how Santino got into her head, but she wants to stay.

If I leave this place tonight, I’ll end up leaving alone. I can’t abandon her, not like Rocco had. At the same time, I can’t wait around for him to gather enough forces to rescue us in a more violent way.

Something tells me he’d rather see me dead after slipping out without a word. Who knows if he even is coming? I don’t want to imagine the punishment I have coming for me. Ireallyfucked him over by coming here.

Rocco wanted to marry me off to a guy with an eye patch. No thanks. He’s just as bad as the brute sleeping next to me.

That’s what all these men are. Brutes. Rough, and angry, and…ugh.

I need to get out of here. If not off of this estate, away from this beast.

Ever so carefully, I slide off the bed. Taking my sweet time to leave the surface undisturbed, I move to my feet and look down at his frame.

I could try to kill him. Grab something sharp and sink it into his throat. However, how far will that leave me? He’s Bertelli blood, related to the don of this family. If I kill him, I’m promising my very own death.

Can’t save Camellia if I’m dead.

For now, he’s safe to keep sleeping. Even if he deserves to be stabbed twenty times over, I’m going to turn the other cheek.

Moving toward the large glass windows, my steps are mute against the carpet. There’s a door that leads outside, so I make my way over. Before I reach my destination, I catch a view of what is on the other side of the glass.

For a moment, I’m surprised by the view. A sky full of stars is not the first thing I expect to see out here. Compared to the cloudy skies in the city, this is like a whole new world.

Catching myself getting distracted, I tear my eyes away and look around. There are two chairs resting on what looks like a patio. Ever so carefully, my fingers graze the handle on the glass door. Throwing a look over my shoulder to make sure my captor is still resting peacefully, I open the door and shiver at the cool air nipping at my skin.

Stepping outside, my hair whips against my cheeks. The days may be warm, but the nights are far cooler.

Moving past the chairs, I head over to the rail. Looking down, my head swims at the height from here to the ground. Down below, there’s a thick strip of concrete promising one hell of a painful drop. A broken leg is a guarantee.

A gated lattice separates attached patios to my left and right. No one else is out here to enjoy the incredible view.

Leaning over the rail, I hope to at least figure out how many people are patrolling, but I’m distracted by the sight of a trellis covered in greenery.

Oh, hell yes. Anescape.

How many times have I climbed down one of these to escape my very room each time Rocco decided he wanted to keep me locked up? Way too many times to count. Sure, this trellis is longer with the difference in height, but if I ignore the weight forming in my stomach, I’m sure I can get the fuck out of here.

If I alert anyone, I can just drop on them and make a run for it.

There are only a few walls of muscle here; I’m sure whoever I run into won’t be as much of a force to reckon with as Urzo.

Moving swiftly toward the trellis, I give it a good shake to see how secure it is. My smile is immediate when it doesn’t move at all. Perfect.

Freedom is all but fifteen feet away. Maybe twenty. I don’t want to think about it being any more than that.

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