Elsa
It is almost midday when I get out of bed. I am told Marcello left two hours ago for work. Feeling lonely and bored, I drag myself to the bathroom and freshen up. After that, I walk to the deck, having nothing in mind to do with my life without Marcello here with me.
“Buongiorno, signorina!”
I look up and see one of the guards standing outside at the sundeck infront of one of the loungers. “Ciao, Sal.” I recognize him from the estate.
The crew has already set up the table for breakfast. I sit down and pour myself some caffè
“Sal, un caffè?” Just because he is security guard doesn’t mean I should be rude.
“No, grazie.” He points to the chair he will sit in while he watches me. I am sure I am safe here on the boat. Does Marcello think our enemies could have followed us all the way from Sicily? Marcello said he doesn’t trust anyone, and that doesn’t exclude his deck crew. A shiver creeps down my spine, and goosebumps blossom all over my skin. I look suspiciously around me and Sal looks around too. I assure myself that I am safe and so is Marcello, and shake the shady thoughts off my mind.
I flip through the news app, hoping something would distract me. I already miss Marcello. Is he alright? I couldn’t go along. This must be more serious than yesterday’s. I just hope he finishes up soon.
After I eat, I decide to go for a walk on the sand. Though he doesn’t come with me, Sal watches me intently from his chair. I know if I tried to run, he would be on me in seconds. Why would I even think of it? Maybe Marcello expects me to run. That would be poor calculation to do it in a strange place.
Do I want to run away?
I am obviously enjoying being here on this trip with Marcello. I like being around him generally as long he is not being his mafia stronzo self. Despite whatever has happened between us and the way this all begun, Marcello is the only person that puts my mind and body at peace.
I suck in a breathe, stoping myself from going where my thoughts are taking me.
The beach is already crowded, families and couples laughing and smiling everywhere, and I trie not to hate them for their perfect, happy lives. I stay near the water, loving the cold spray on my feet. I don’t have the energy for swimming today.
I dodge a group of people playing near the water.
“Elsa!”
I am startled, surprised at hearing my name in the crowd. Looking up, Marco Rossi’s mistress is in front of me. “Ciao!” She grabs my shoulders and kisses my cheeks.
“Alessia, ciao!” How strange. What are the odds of seeing her here? I thought she and Marco live in Naples. “How are you?”
“Good. You?”
“Okay. What are you doing here?”
“Visiting the beach.” She pointed to the water. “Sardania has the best in all of Italy.”
Better than Naples? I shrug. What do I know?
“Come, sit with me!”
Before I can say no, she begins tugging me toward two chaises and an umbrella. Is she here with Marco or a friend?
I can see Sal getting to his feet at the yacht, probably coming to check on me. But once he sees me on the chaise, he retakes his seat, content that I am not trying to escape. His eyes don’t leave us, however.
Alessia smiles brightly. “It is good to see you. How is Marcello?”
“Fine. Marco?”
“He’s very good.” She waggles her brows. “He is in Napoli with his wife this weekend.”
“Oh.” That must suck.
“Marcello is here with you?”
“Well, he’s in town for work.”
“Did you come to the beach alone?”
“Yes, but now I found you, so not alone anymore.”
She chatters on, talking about the Sardinia night clubs and all the hot men here. Then she tells me about Naples and her life there. I guess Marco treats her pretty well.
Still, it feel nice to have an interaction with another young woman close to my age. Alessia and I aren’t friends, but we are friendly and both involved with dangerous men. Fortunately, her constant talking distracts me from thinking about Marcello.
“Come, let’s get a rossini!”
“Oh, I don’t have any money with me.”
“I’ll buy you one.” Alessia stands and leads the way toward the bar near the boardwalk. I turn and see Sal marching across the sand, following us. I point to the bar, and he nods, slowing down.
Alessia doesn’t stop at the bar. “Before we get drinks, you must see something. My car is just over here. Marco bought it for me. Come, come. I want to show you.”
We walk silently to the parking lot and approach a sleek gray four-door sports sedan at the curb. I ask, “Is that yours?”
“Sí! Isn’t it gorgeous? It’s a Maserati. Come see.”
I give her an enthusiastic smile and approach it.
“Actually, Alessia-”
A hand grabs my arm and I instantly try to pull away. How can Sal have gotten to us so quickly? It can’t be him. “No, let me go.”
“Hello, Elsa.”
What the hell? That isn’t Sal.
Marco Rossi stands behind me, a sharp object digging into my ribs. Is that a gun? Jesus Christ. “What are you doing?”
Before I have time to think, he shoves me forward, toward the Maserati, the gun never leaving my side.
Oh, fuck. This whole thing is a setup. These two assholes are trying to kidnap me!
My adrenaline surges, and I begin struggling with all my might, attempting to free myself from Marco’s punishing grip, but he won’t budge. I kick at him, twisting and yelling for all I am worth, but it makes no difference. He pushesmy top half into the trunk.