Page 94 of The Strength Of A Woman

“Send them back with compliments from me and a written note that they’re my wedding gift to him. Drop them off in the middle of the night. The fucker is in Taormina already.”

Cosimo nods as I turn around and take a few steps outside.

Looking up at the sky, I get lost in the maze of flickering stars, when a thought crosses my mind.

I might not have as much time as I thought I had with her.

LEILANI

My hands are still shakingas I turn off the faucet, and then I turn it back on to run my fingers through the cold stream of water.

I can’t stop shaking.

For the hundredth time, I’m asking myself the same question:

What if something bad happened to Callum?

I don’t even want to think about it.

The past hour has been a blur.

I heard noises in the house, and then footsteps rushing up the stairs.

My first instinct was to hide. I know enough about this life to understand what this is usually about.

And I did.

After running from one room to another, I found a locked door, located the key, opened it, and stepped inside, where I found a dark space with shelves stocked with linens, sheets, and towels. A supply room.

The men ran past my hiding space, and when I heard Cosimo’s voice and how worried he was that he couldn’t find me, I stepped out to their relief.

He checked the room and suggested I stay there.

There was an incident in the house involving the enemy, andI gathered it had to do with me.

They wanted me.

It was probably Varela’s men, and I knew right there and then that nothing would take me away from Callum.

Cosimo handed me a gun just in case I needed to protect myself.

I’m still trying to get that smell off my skin.

Things have settled down, and I know Callum is in the house and everything is under control.

I also know that these things never go away. They just happen in phases. These motherfuckers never give up.

I wouldn’t care at all if it were only about me.

I know that no one will get their hands on me against my will. I’d rather die than have someone force something like that on me.

Desperately, I glance in the mirror.

I hate the way I look.

My hair is in disarray.

My eyes have turned into two dark pools of fear. I resent fear. I despise it, yet it’s here with me.