I put my eye to the scope and feel the sharp sting of a blade to my neck.
My head is pulled back by the hair and a razor-sharp knife is held to my throat from behind.
Fuck.
“Well, well, well…look what the cat dragged in.” He digs the knife into my throat. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Giuliano
I pace in my bedroom, back and forth.
Intel are trying to track the phones from the tower, but no word yet.
We’re searching for Lombardi’s phone number. If he took her alive,
he wants something.
Happy to exchange my life for hers.
We’ve just got to find her.
Please be alive.
My phone rings and the name Carlo lights up the screen, I scramble to answer it.
“Carlo.”
“Giuliano, help me,” he moans.
“Where are you?” I snap.
“I just woke up, I’m in the snow.” His teeth are chattering. “I must have been knocked out. I have no idea where I am.” His teeth chatter harder. “I’m freezing to death. Help, help me.”
“Look around you,” I stammer. “What do you see? I need a landmark.”
“I’m at the top of a hill.” He sounds disorientated. “There’s a ski lift to the left, and a….” His voice trails off.
“And a what?”
“I can see the resort down below.” He goes silent. “Where’s Francesca?”
“He’s near where they were today,” I yell. “Go, go.”
Everyone runs from the room, and I do too. “Hold on, Carlo, we’re coming.” We run to the elevator and all pile in. “Hold on, we’re coming.”
We get to the ground floor where we have skimobiles on standby, Alex and Marko climb on one and Val and I get onto the back of the other. “To the top of the hill.”
We take off at speed, going straight up. It seems to take forever and when we get up there, I look down at the hotel to try to get my bearings to his directions. “Carlo,” I call as I jump off the skimobile.
“Carlo.”
“Carlo.” Our voices echo across the canyon.
We all listen as the wind howls around us.
Silence.
“Carlo.”
We run left and we run right.
“Over here,” someone calls.
We all run to see Marko hunched over a figure on the ground and I run up and drop my knees.
Carlo’s eyes flutter open and he smiles in relief. “Thank God, you found me.”
I press my gun to his temple. “Where the fuck is she?”
Francesca
I struggle with the ties on my hands, I have to get out of here and warn Giuliano about Carlo. Panic is running through my veins and I know that I don’t have long.
What if he’s already back there?
I get a lump in my throat as I imagine my Giuliano being shot in cold blood by his best friend.
No.
I struggle harder, I need to break free.
Now!
As Lombardi talks to the two other men in the room, he keeps breaking into a deep cough, barely able to speak at times. Wheezing and gasping as if there is no air in his lungs.
I wish there wasn’t.
I look around the room, what do I do? How can I get out of here?
A gunshot rings out, the room falls silent.
Lombardi holds his hand out toward me. “Gag her.”
Another shot is fired.
Someone’s out there.
“I’m in here,” I yell.
Suddenly I feel duct tape go around the circumference of my head and over my mouth. I struggle to try to stop them. “Help. Help,” I cry in a muffled voice as I fight, I rock the chair as I try to get away. “I’m in here.”
Another round of bullets rings out, a man screams, and my eyes widen.
Someone’s been shot.
Lombardi calmly plays with my hair, completely unfazed. “I told you he would come.”
A text pings on a phone that sits on the table, Lombardi picks it up and then after reading it, smiles and his eyes rise to meet mine. “Carlo has succeeded. Giuliano Ferrara is no more.” He rubs his hand over my hair. “I would offer my condolences, Miss Ferrara…if I cared.”
No.
The earth shatters beneath, my vision blurs.
No.
He can’t be dead…. He can’t leave me here alone.
I get a vision of his beautiful face, us laughing and rolling around together in bed.
That can’t be it.
This can’t be where our love story ends.
It’s not finished yet.
I stare into space through tears as a million memories run through my mind. I see us kissing in the library when we were kids. Dancing in the kitchen, loving in the dark.
The tenderness, the passion.
The way he loves me with his whole heart.
Loved.
The air leaves my lungs.
“I have to say.” Lombardi smirks. “That was easier than I anticipated.” He shrugs. “Weak. Carlo will make a much better leader.”
No.
This can’t be happening.