"What about the family? His son Lorenzo?"
"Lorenzo's next, but not tonight. One crisis at a time." I check my watch. "We have a delivery to collect."
Matteo nods and begins making calls. Just another night's work cleaning up messes.
As we drive toward Ostia, cold satisfaction settles in my chest.
Alessandro Rossi learned what happens when you threaten her.
Soon, Torretti will learn the same lesson.
Chapter 31: Camilla
The door opens, and my time is up.
"The buyer has arrived," the older woman says. Not the one from last night, but another handler I haven't seen before. "Come with me."
My hands are steady as I stand, smoothing down the gray dress they chose for me. The nail file is wedged into my right shoe, hidden under the arch of my foot. Uncomfortable, but invisible. One small weapon against whatever comes next.
They don't answer when I ask questions. Where are we going? Who is this buyer? What happens during the inspection? Just silence and guiding hands as they lead me down the hallway, past other closed doors, toward the stairs.
Other women are being held here. I heard them through the walls last night. But I'm the only one being moved this morning. Lucky me.
The van waiting outside is black, expensive, windows tinted. Professional operation. Torretti sits in the passenger seat, barely glancing at me as his men load me into the back.
"Where are we going?" I try again.
No answer. Just the van door sliding shut, locking me in with two guards who watch me without expression.
The engine starts and we're moving.
I test the nail file's position in my shoe without being obvious. It’s still there, still sharp. Not much of a weapon, but I've already killed one man with improvised tools. If this buyer thinks I'm going to be compliant, he's about to learn differently.
The drive feels endless. My mind plays through scenarios - what the buyer will look like, what he'll expect, where the vulnerable points are on a human body.
I think about Renato. Whether he's looking for me.
I push the thought away. I can't afford hope and I can't afford to wait for rescue that might never come.
The van slows then stops. Through the tinted windows, I see warehouse silhouettes against dawn light in an industrial area. A perfect place for a private "inspection" with no interruptions.
Torretti opens the van door. "Out."
I step onto cracked pavement, flanked immediately by two guards. They're alert, professional, hands near weapons. Not men I could fight and win against.
But maybe I don't have to fight them. Maybe the buyer will be alone with me at some point. One moment of opportunity, one vulnerable target, and the nail file opening an artery.
I just need to survive long enough to find that moment.
"Keep moving," one guard says when I hesitate.
We approach Building 47. The door stands open, darkness beyond. This is it. Another dreaded inspection. The moment some stranger decides whether I'm worth purchasing.
My heart pounds but I force my breathing steady. Predators can smell fear.
I step through the doorway into shadow. For a moment, nothing. Just darkness and the sound of my own pulse in my ears.
Then movement ahead. A figure stepping forward from deeper in the warehouse.
