Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
I feel a surge of frustration, but I mask it quickly. Control is everything. “Was this caused by tampering?” I ask, my voice even.
“No, sir,” the pilot quickly responds. “It’s a part that occasionally wears out.”
I order, accepting the situation, “Make sure it’s done right.”
The pilot nods, moving swiftly to coordinate with the ground crew. I turn to Luca and Antonio. “Looks like we’re spending the night here. Find us a place to stay, something secure and discreet.”
Luca’s already on his phone, making arrangements. “I’ll handle it. There’s a resort nearby that can offer us some privacy. I’ll ensure everything is sorted out before we head over.”
Antonio speaks into his cellphone, calling in additional men while checking out our surroundings. His presence is a rock-solid assurance in an otherwise fluid situation.
We move toward the terminal building, shadows lengthening as the sun dips toward the horizon. The terminal is a small but luxurious structure, designed more for the affluent wanderer than a man of my particular background. I can appreciate the irony.
Inside, the cool, air-conditioned space is a welcome relief. Luca motions to a corner where we can talk privately. “The resort is secure. I’ve arranged for a private villa, fully staffed and with top-notch security. We’ll be secluded from the main resort area.”
“Good,” I reply. “Let’s keep things low-profile. The last thing we need is unnecessary attention.”
Antonio nods, his eyes scanning the room once more. Ever vigilant, ever prepared.
A sleek black SUV arrives to take us to the resort. The drive is short but scenic, the lush greenery of the island a stark contrast to the concrete jungle of New York. We pass vibrant markets and serene beaches, but my mind is on what awaits us back home.
The resort villa exceeds my expectations. High walls provide privacy, while a cluster of palm trees and tropical flowers lend it a serene, almost surreal beauty. A private beach stretches beyond the infinity pool, the waves lapping gently at the shore.
As we walk inside, I take in the opulent yet tasteful décor. The staff, informed in advance of our arrival, move swiftly to attend to our needs. I sit in the spacious living area, sinking into a plush chair. Luca and Antonio remain on their feet, ever alert.
“Relax, just a bit,” I tell them. “Tonight is a rare opportunity to catch our breath.”
Luca sits, though his posture is rigid. Antonio remains standing, his eyes scanning the perimeter through the wide glass windows.
A tray of drinks arrives, and I pour myself another scotch. The amber liquid glints in the setting sun’s light. “To tomorrow,” I toast, the glass cool against my lips.
Luca, with his glass of bourbon, clinks it lightly against mine. “To our return.”
Antonio simply nods, his approval silent but clear.
I lean back, the tension of the past days easing slowly. The sounds of the Caribbean’s nightlife, the gentle crash of waves, the distant murmur of conversation, and the rustle of palm leaves in the evening breeze lull me.
The night deepens and conversation turns to plans for our return. We discuss strategies, assets, and how to tighten our grip on the city. Eventually, the conversation wanes, each of us lost in our thoughts.
I stand, signaling the end of our impromptu meeting. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, we fly home and reclaim our place.”
Luca nods, heading to his designated room. Antonio gives a final sweep of the area before retiring for the night. I step out onto the terrace, the cool night air a welcome sensation against my skin.
Alone, I gaze out at the starlit sky. It’s beautiful here, away from the blood and concrete. But beauty is fleeting, and duty calls. Tomorrow, we return to the heart of the storm.
I drain the last of my scotch, the liquid burning a path down my throat. Tomorrow, New York will know that Lorenzo Amante is back. And no one, absolutely no one, will stand in my way.
TWO
MIRA
After I step out of my hotel room, the soft click of the door shutting behind me echoes through the empty hallway. The corridors of the resort are quiet this early in the morning, a sharp contrast to the raucous partying from the night before. My sister and her friends are likely still tangled in their bedsheets, dead to the world after celebrating her twenty-first birthday extravaganza.
I can still hear their laughter ringing in my ears, their shouts of "One more drink!" spiraling through the air as I politely declined yet another round. I’m not much of a drinker and I’m an early riser by nature. When my eyes popped open with the sunrise, the allure of a peaceful breakfast by the ocean was too tempting to pass up.
The elevator doors slide open with a soft ding, and I step inside, the golden-hued interior enveloping me in warmth. As I reach out to press the lobby button, the doors start to close, only to reopen seconds later as someone else rushes in.