The unknown man dislodged from Primo’s shadow and came toward me.
He was tall, with dark hair and dark eyes. At first glance, I thought it was Vincenzo.
“Signora Fausti,” Cesare said, his voice smooth, moving catlike toward me. “You are even more beautiful in person.” He lifted my hand and placed a warm kiss on it.
When his eyes met mine, something shifted inside of him, and the look bolted straight through me, like a fork of lightning coming together into one solid strike.
He removed a knife from his pocket, lifting it so that it glinted silver in the night.
At first, it was nothing but a cold burn, until warm blood welled up from the slice he’d made in the center of my sweater, reaching the flesh that lay beneath the layers.
The ivory fabric bloomed crimson before it stained the pure white snow red.
33
Scarlett
One minute he cut me, and the next he’d held a cloth to my face. As soon as I took a deep breath, the world faded to black.
Moving in and out of consciousness, I only caught snippets of conversations—I registered pieces of an argument—felt movement—I was almost positive we were on a helicopter bound for another part of Switzerland—but then went under again.
Then I woke up, though my eyes refused to open. Whatever Cesare had given me had worn off. My body felt bogged down in quicksand, and my mind stumbled around drunkenly, trying to find purchase to keep my equilibrium straight, but I could register sounds and feel how cold the air was—not to mention the tremble in my bones that made my teeth chatter. The cut on my chest burned.
Wherever we were smelled earthy, a mixture of damp wood and the clean scent of winter, with an undercurrent of body odor and coffee. I couldn’t say for certain, but I got the feeling we were back in Italy, some place in the mountains where it snowed.
The crunch of boots rang out against a hard surface, the murmuring of men’s voices moved like slithering snakes over my inert body. They were whispering, and the tones were urgent.
If I tried hard enough, I could have probably opened my eyes, but I kept them closed to listen in on the conversation.
This time I didn’t need to strain, because even though they were keeping the conversation low, they started to argue, and the tone of their voices became more solid.
“This was not part of the plan!” This from Burgess. “Kill her now, Cesare! You have no idea what he’s capable of. Anything else in the world and he wouldn’t even go to the trouble. For his wife or the little girl? You’ve no idea what he’ll do.”
A bit of laughter. “I took her, didn’t I? He is not capable of much.”
“For now. Use common sense. He’s not far. Even if I can’t feel it like she can, I know it.”
Me too,I wanted to cry, but kept silent.
“Bruno couldn’t get close enough to know for sure,” Burgess continued. “Luca’s sons are running it, but trust me when I say this—someone is running them. There were rumors of him getting out, but my wife had no clue, as usual, and my contacts in New York couldn’t say for sure either. It would have been too suspicious for me to ask in the immediate circle, but I was certain news would have spread if he was. That’s why I agreed to this.”
Primo Bruno was playing two sides. I wasn’t positive whether he’d seen Luca or not, but it seemed to me that, even if he had, he kept his mouth shut to secure an excuse. He told Burgess and Cesare that he couldn’t get close enough, but if someone from the Fausti family ever questioned him, he would tell them he didn’t tell Burgess and Cesare on purpose.
No wonder he’d been so depressed. He knew, on either side, he was a dead man.
“If what she says is true, and Luca Faustiisout of prison, he has the manpower to turn this world upside down. Now we are dealing with the devil himself. We don’t have time to call Lothario and make a war out of this, like I told you to do before. Kill her! Do it now!” A crack echoed, like he’d hit something. “Breakthem.”
A moment of silence passed, but before Cesare even gave him an answer, his resolve slid over me. He would kill me later, but he was content to keep me breathing for the moment. There was something about me that fascinated him. That was probably the only thing keeping me alive.
Burgess was not in agreement with this new plan, and his fear stunk as rank as skunk spray.
When had I told them about Luca? I didn’t remember that part of the trip. And apparently both men knew what Lothario had done to us—the story of Giovi Spataro taking me, Brando trading his life for mine, and Lothario’s lack of support to get either of us back.
Cesare had taken this for granted, thinking that Brando wouldn’t be able to find me, or if he did, it would come down to the two of them.
It would; I would give him that much.
Even if Brando came armed with a convoy of men, it would be him who would kill Cesare out of principal.
