Page 88 of The Woman on the Jury

I had to press the heels of my hands hard into my eyes to fight off the tears that were burning there.

It was stupid.

I knew that.

We were both two grown, consenting adults.

And sex was just sex.

The problem was, I just couldn’t seem to compartmentalize it like that. Sex meant something to me. There was a connection there that I couldn’t deny. One that Cosimo clearly didn’t feel toward me.

So what was the solution then?

I climbed off the bed, making my way to the bathroom, and finding the fresh tee I’d been about to put on when he’d broken in.

The solution, I knew, was to get the hell out of here.

I understood all too well how much of a threat there still was. For me. And my grandfather. But I couldn’t stay here forever anyway.

I could, I don’t know, call Lauren. Ask to borrow money. I knew she would give it to me. As much as my pride would hurt to have to take it from her.

With that, I could hire private security.

For myself and my grandfather.

It wasn’t a permanent solution.

But maybe if I invested in cameras for the shop and my home, I could get proof that the brothers were stalking me, and make the police do something about it.

It wasn’t a great plan.

Hell, it likely wasn’t even a good one.

But it was something.

A plan of action.

A way of getting the hell away from Cosimo Costa, and reclaiming my damn life.

Looking at myself, I gave my reflection a nod.

It was a plan.

I didn’t sleep that night, worrying myself to a stomachache about making my escape.

I cursed these stupid new buildings that didn’t have fire escapes anymore. Stupid innovation and their damn fireproof stairwells and their positive pressure and fire doors.

Because, of course, the stairwell was located out in the hall.

Beyond the guards.

I heard Cosimo moving around upstairs at around six, going through his morning routine, getting dressed, making coffee, talking to Miko who he’d let in like he’d been expecting him.

I waited until the voices disappeared.

Then added another half an hour for good measure before grabbing myself a cup of coffee, knowing I would need it after not getting any sleep.

Then I took myself back into my room, carefully choosing an outfit, doing my hair, then slipping into my heels. I tucked my stolen phone into my pocket, even though it would likely be useless unless I went somewhere with access to wifi.

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