Page 25 of The Assassin's Captive
His confirmation carries no surprise, no attempt to soften the truth. Lorenzo doesn't deal in comforting lies or false reassurances.
"Why?"
"Because the right people have been told not to look."
I set down the remote and face him directly, studying the man who sits in his expensive chair. He acts like a king, like he's accustomed to controlling every aspect of his environment. The photograph I found last night burns in my memory—Lorenzo with his arm around Emilio Costa, their easy familiarity speaking to years of partnership.
"Who told them?"
Lorenzo reaches for his coffee cup, taking a sip before answering. "People who have more influence than you do."
The casual dismissal ignites anger that I've been holding back since waking up in his bedroom. I stand and pace to the windows that overlook his perfectly manicured grounds, needing movement to channel the frustration building in my chest. Though, the pain still throbs in my head—no thanks to the pain meds that doctor gave me. I could use a drink, but I don’t want my senses dimmed.
"I'm a prosecutor for the Roman judicial system. I have colleagues, supervisors, friends who will notice when I don't show up for work."
"Your office received a call yesterday morning. Family emergency requiring extended leave. Your cases will be reassigned."
I turn to stare at him, my hands forming fists at my sides. "You can't simply erase someone from their life."
"I didn't. But people with more resources than me did."
The admission confirms what I already suspected but hoped wasn't true. Lorenzo isn't acting alone in this kidnapping. He's following orders from someone with enough power to manipulate hospital records, silence news organizations, and convince my office that I've voluntarily disappeared.
"Why did you take me from the hospital?"
"Because leaving you there would have gotten you killed." His eyebrows rise in annoyance, like he's already sick of my questions, but I have so many more coming. I don’t have to stay here.
"By whom?"
Lorenzo sets down his coffee cup and leans forward in his chair, his expression becoming more serious than I've seen since he carried me out of that medical facility.
"By people who don't care about collateral damage when they want information."
"What information?"
"The legal cases you've been building. The financial networks you've been tracking. The evidence you've gathered that threatens organizations more dangerous than you understand."
I walk back to the sofa and sit facing him, my mind racing through the implications of his words. The Costa syndicate has been the focus of my work for months, but I've been careful to keep my investigations compartmentalized, hidden behind layers of legal procedures and bureaucratic delays.
"You work for Costa," I say, making it a statement rather than a question.
Lorenzo doesn't deny it. His silence confirms what the photograph already revealed. He belongs to the same organization I've been trying to dismantle through legal channels.
"Then why protect me? Why not turn me over to your boss and let him handle the problem?"
"Because I'm under strict orders to keep you here. And he made me your last line of defense." His jaw drops open as his tongue works one of his teeth, then he closes it and narrows his eyes at me.
The words carry weight I don't understand, implications that extend beyond the simple dynamics of captor and prisoner. There's something in his voice that suggests complications he isn't ready to explain.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer you're getting today."
Lorenzo stands and collects the untouched food from the coffee table without giving me a second chance to eat anything. I don’t want it anyway, but the conversation is over whether I want it to be or not.
"I'm going to shower," he says, pausing at the doorway. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."
His footsteps fade up the staircase, followed by the sound of running water from the master bathroom. I wait several minutes to ensure he's occupied before moving toward the hallway that leads to other parts of the house.
