“And when they do,” I say softly. “I will find you.”
My hand flies out.
And I slash that jagged, broken shard of glass directly across her throat.
Day 100 – Luciano
Igive Dom one last warning glance as I slip from the room.
He’s leaning against the far wall, but he tilts up his chin in a silent message of acknowledgement. Matteo is next to him, glazed eyes suggesting he’s taken up more than one line of the white powder liberally offered through the crowd.
The hall is dark, lit only by handfuls of candles flickering above my head. The small amber lights send shadows scattering across the teeming mass of bodies writhing against each other below.
My feet crunch over broken glass as I slip between them. Nobody pays any attention to me. Everyone here only cares about getting their next hit.
The guards at the bottom of the stairs straighten when they see me.
“Food.” I stagger, nearly falling into one of them as a grunt leaves my lips. “I need some fucking food.”
They shove me away, distaste curling their lips. One points to the kitchen. “There.”
I salute, my fingers a good few inches from my head, and offer them a lopsided grin. “Much appreciated.”
They’ve already turned back to the main show as I stumble off.
When I stumble into the kitchen, the butler turns to me with stooped shoulders and a tense expression. “Can I help you?”
I remember Caterina’s butler – Fernandez - as a bustling, round, sometimes overly formal man, immaculate and proud. But there’s no respect in his eyes for me, even as he inclines his head.
I squint at him. “Food.”
“Of – of course. Anything in particular?”
When I shake my head, he motions me to a chair. I watch, my head slumped in my hands as he moves around the kitchen, slapping a sandwich together that he drops in front of me with barely veiled disdain.
A positive sign.
Mumbling my thanks, I work my way through it as my eyes creep to the clock on the wall.
Carefully, my hand slides into my jacket, wrapping around the grip of my gun. A burst of noise echoes from outside, shouts and laughter, and I ease my way over to the door to listen. When only silence remains, I move across the room.
“What are you doing?”
Fernandez holds up his hands as I turn, face stricken as I aim the pistol in his direction. His eyes dart between me and the barely noticeable outline of the tunnel entrance behind me. Exactly where Amie said it would be. “That’s not – there’s nothing behind that wall. Just stone.”
He pales further when the gun lifts higher. “Please.”
I study him in silence. Behind him, the clock chimes. Once. Twice. “I’m not going to hurt them.”
He swallows. “Who?”
I raise an eyebrow at the lie. “I think you know who I’m talking about.”
His eyes flit around the room. Debating. Slowly, I lower the gun. “If you give a fuck about them, you’ll watch the door. Try to open it, and this won’t end so well for you.”
I back up as Fernandez moves to the door, watching him carefully as I listen for any noise.
Come on.
