There’s an agonizing ache in my chest—not knowing when, or if, I’ll ever see Fabi again.
I take his hand and drag him to a quiet corner. Reaching into the neckline of my dress, I pull out an envelope I’d hidden there. I quickly slip it into his pocket and glance up at him. “Promise me you won’t open it until tomorrow.”
He grabs my hand. “What’s going on, Lucia? What’s in the envelope? Are you in danger?”
I shake my head and cradle his face in my hands, kissing both his cheeks. “No, not at all. Don’t worry, my love. Just promise me you won’t open it until tomorrow.”
He looks at me for a long moment, then nods. “Alright.”
I kiss him again before slipping back into the crowd. From the bottom of my heart, I hope that what I wrote in the letter will be enough for Fabi to forgive me, because there’s nothing more I can do.
I also left a separate letter for Emily in my room. In it, I explained that she has no part in my escape and knows absolutely nothing about it. There’s nothing else I can do for that sweet, innocent girl except pray that Carlo spares her life.
A few minutes into the party, the entire building goes dark, followed by the sound of gunfire from the garden. It feels like a noose tightening around my throat.
The game has begun.
The emergency lights flicker on, and Carlo, along with the other men, draws their guns and rushes out. At that moment, a strong hand grips my arm, guiding me out of the hall. It’s Rafael, Tony’s right-hand man.
My stomach churns violently, and the acid rising in my throat burns my tongue. I clamp a hand over my mouth, stumbling as I follow him.
We enter the library and head straight to the farthest shelf at the back of the room. He pulls out one of the books, and a wooden panel behind the shelf slides aside with surprising ease. Holding a key, he inserts it into a hidden lock behind the panel and turns it.
When I hear the sound of the lock clicking open, Rafael swings the entire bookshelf open like a door and guides me inside. He steps in after me, shuts the door, and locks it behind us.
He turns on his phone’s flashlight. We’re standing on the landing of a narrow spiral staircase. The air is thick with the smell of dampness and decay, and the stench overwhelms me. I can’t hold it back any longer. Bending over, I vomit everything I had been holding down.
Rafael mutters a curse under his breath, but without a second glance, he grabs my arm and drags me toward the stairs. My legs tremble under me as I stumble after him.
At the bottom of the stairs is a motorcycle parked at the entrance of a dark, narrow passage. He wastes no time sitting me on the bike and climbs on behind me to keep me from collapsing.
He starts the engine, and the bike roars to life as he accelerates. With every passing minute, the gap between me and the life I used to know keeps growing. I reach for my wedding ring and pull it off my finger.
In the dim light of the motorcycle’s headlamp, I look at the ring one last time, then toss it aimlessly onto the ground. I have no right to keep it anymore, though it was never really mine to begin with.
I don’t know how long we ride, but by the time we reach the end of the tunnel, I’ve thrown up twice more. Now both the motorcycle and I are covered in filth.
When we stop, Rafael wraps an arm around my waist and lifts me like a lifeless doll, carrying me up another spiral staircase. Fresh air brushes against my face as I lift my head, desperate for a deep breath.
That’s when I see Tony.
This staircase doesn’t lead to another hidden door but instead seems to surface inside a house. As we near the final steps, Tony extends his hands, grabbing my limp body from Rafael and pulling me up.
He doesn’t risk putting me down. Instead, he lifts me in both arms and carries me out of the small cabin in the middle of nowhere.
Tony places me gently in the car, and as he speeds off, another wave of nausea crashes over me. I clamp a hand over my mouth and manage to choke out his name through clenched fingers.
“Tony…pull over. I’m going to be sick.”
He doesn’t slow down. “Throw up right here. That dress is already ruined anyway, and we don’t have time to waste. Carlo’s probably figuring things out right about now, and when he does, all hell’s going to break loose. I’m guessing you don’t want to burn in that fire.”
I lean forward, trying to aim for the car floor, but my weakness makes me miss, and my dress gets even filthier. The stench of vomit fills the air, making my stomach churn even more.
Tony cracks the window slightly, and I gasp for air like someone who’s just surfaced from underwater, desperate to breathe.
We finally reach a small airstrip, and as soon as we board the jet, I rush to the bathroom, bending over the toilet again.
I throw up everything—the fear, the guilt, the heartbreak. The pain of leaving Fabi behind. The guilt over Emily. And the grief of a one-sided love for a man who will never see me as more than a pawn in his game.
