Elsa
“Marco!” Alessia shouts, and he suddenly lets me go. I straighten as Sal launches himself at Marco, and I barely get out of the way as the two tumble to the ground. They begin wrestling for Marco’s gun, and I see my chance. I had to get the fuck out of there.
I don’t hesitate. I run through the parking lot and then dart around a corner heading for the crowds on the beach, my arms pumping as my legs churn. My stomach protests but I manage to keep from barfing. I am no runner, but I put all my energy into escaping.
Arms wrap around me from behind, jerking me to a stop. “No!” I yell. “Help! I’m being kidnapped!” The people around us avert their eyes, hurrying away like I am radioactive. “No, please!” I call. “You don’t understand! I need help!”
“Shut up,” my captor says. “Or I will choke you, stranza.”
I don’t recognize the voice, so it has to be one of Marco’s men. Of course Marco hasn’t come alone. Goddamn it. “Let me go. Please. Marcello won’t like this.” Marcello is going to lose it when he finds out.
“I do not answer to that piece of trash.”
He half-carries, half-drags me back to Marco’s car, with me struggling the entire way. When we arrive, Marco is wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. A slump figure lays on the pavement. Shit, it is Sal. Is he dead?
I try to wrench away but the guard holds firm. “Marco, don’t do this,” I beg. “It’s not too late. Just let me go and we can forget all about it.”
“Get in, puttanella,” Marco says angrily, pointing at the trunk. “You’re coming with me.”
“Why? Where are we going?”
“Don’t worry about that. Just get the fuck in the car.”
I look at the small trunk. Will I have enough air in there? “Please, Marco. Don’t do this. I’ll ride in the back seat. Please, just don’t put me in the trunk.”
“Shut up, and do as I say.”
He shoves me down and I fall halfway in the trunk. Kicking my legs, I yell for help, hoping someone will stop this. In a flash, Marco’s soldier covers my mouth with duct tape. Then he uses a zip tie to secure my hands behind my back, throw my legs in and closes the top.
I am locked in.
Oh, fuck. No, no, no! Panic claws at my insides, my fear of tight spaces robbing me of breath and making my heart pound. I can’t see anything and can’t move my hands. I try my deep breathing techniques but they aren’t working. Is there enough air in here? Worse, what if I grow nauseous and actually vomit? I will choke to death.
The car begins moving, rolling away from the beach, and I kick at the trunk. It doesn’t do nothing except make me feel more helpless and more claustrophobic. Why is this happening? Why would anyone kidnap me? Why in Sardinia of all places?
I start trembling, my mind stuck in terror mode. I can’t breathe and no one will rescue me. Sal is dead, Marcello is away. I am not sure if he is really in town or if he has even left Italy. He nevers tells me the truth about where he is going, and I barely know a soul in this godforsaken island. Who cares about one mob’s lover being abducted and taken who knows where?
Tears stream from my eyes, and I can’t catch my breath. What have I ever done to deserve this? They are going to kill me. Or torture me.
The darkness spins around me as I get dizzier and dizzier. I know I am hyperventilating, that I am not thinking clearly, so I try to calm down. Nothing worked, though, and my last thought is of the strangely pretty tiny red halo that shone from the taillight….
***
Marcello
I have been given a tour of the construction site and we have had early lunch there after. I am going to meet up with the manager of the restaurant that neighbors the land for the project and talk about how we are going to adjust his boundaries to fit the way I want my project to work out. When I sit in my car and my phone immediately lights up and Fausto’s name appears on the screen. He told me he had things he had to deal with in town before he returned to the boat. I let him go because I know Sal will be there to protect Elsa.
Swiping to answer, I hold the phone up to my ear. “Pronto.”
“She’s not here.”
I hear the panic before I understand the words. Straightening in my seat, I pull myself together. I put my phone on speaker so that Also, my head of security can hear. “What do you mean? Where is she?”
“The boat, it’s empty. No Elsa, no guards.”
Also turns to look behind and we exchange looks. What the fuck? Has she run? Would she run away from me? I thought we-
Or has something terrible happened instead?
My chest seizes, my heart suddenly forgetting how to function, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. Aldo begins dialing on his phone, probably trying to reach the men I had stationed at the boat, but I remain focused on Fausto. “Show me,” I bark.
Fausto turns on the video and I see he is on the sun deck, a gun in his other hand. “When I got here,” he explains, “the back door was open. I found Sal out cold in the pantry.”
He shows me Sal, pale and lifeless on the ground. “Is he dead?” I snap.
“He’s alive,” he says. “There’s a syringe next to him on the floor.”
“Where is she?” I shout, yanking at the knot of my tie with one hand to loosen it. Would Elsa do all this to escape? I don’t want to believe this. We had reached the sweetest stage of our relationship. She wanted to be with me. .
“Search every inch of that boat. I am on my way.” I hang up.
Aldo holds up a hand, talking rapidly on his phone. “She left for a walk on the beach. Nothing out of the ordinary. Sal stayed behind at first, then went after her. Vic is watching the camera footage now.”
Aldo has put him on video call.
Vic is at the desk, a wall of screens in front of him. He is our best tech guy, a hacker, with skills that we put to use all over the globe. His gaze is locked on the screen with Sal in the chair at the beach house, his eyes tracking something on the beach. Elsa.
“She’s been gone for about ten minutes,” Vic says, moving the video forward. “Sal watches her and then gets up to follow.”
“Why weren’t you on the cameras today?” I snarl. “How the fuck did this happen?”
He swallows but doesn’t meet my eye, his attention still on the screen. “I’m sorry, Don Marcello. I was working on a security update. I wasn’t paying close attention to the cameras.” On the monitor a dark shape crept into the kitchen-a man carrying Sal over his shoulder.
“Who is that?” I lean in and watched as a man in a black mask tossed Sal into the pantry. A few seconds later another camera caught him leaving. Is this someone she’d hired to help her? Or is it one of my enemies? “Is she still on the beach? Can we get the CCTV footage?”
Vic shifts to a laptop and begins typing. “It might take some time.”
“There is no time. You’re supposed to be this tech genius. So find those fucking cameras. I need to know what happened to her-”
“Don Marcello,” Aldo holds out his phone in front of my face. “You should take this.”
“Not now.”
“Marcello,” he implores, his expression as serious as I’d ever seen. “It’s Rossi. He says he has something that belongs to you.”