Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“Romy—”
“Don’t bother trying to call me. I’m blocking your number.” His voice was so quiet when he said, “Goodbye, Marcus.”
The phone went dead. I stared at it for a long time, as if he might possibly call back.
But that was all he’d wanted to say to me.
After a while—minutes or hours, I couldn’t be sure—I got up and looked around. I felt dazed. Hollow.
Then I went to my suite and started to pack.
I’d fucked up, big time, but I wasn’t going to let it end like that. I couldn’t. Romy meant way too much to me to just give up without trying to talk to him face-to-face. He’d be able to look me in the eye and see I was telling the truth, and that would make all the difference.
At least, I hoped so.
And yeah, it really might get me shot, because it sounded like he was going straight to his well-armed big brother. But that was just a chance I had to take.
10
Romy
After I spoke to Pete, who swore to me repeatedly that really was Mario Greco in the photo, I ran around the suite and shoved my stuff into my luggage in about ninety seconds flat. My heart was racing as I snuck out of the hotel like a spy, taking an indirect route because I really wanted to avoid Marcus.
Part of me didn’t believe he was Greco. He couldn’t be! But I was so rattled and confused that I just couldn’t face him.
I hopped into a cab and asked the driver to take me to the airport, and after a few minutes, I sent Marcus a text. I should have known he’d call right back. The conversation that followed left me feeling totally wrung out. The cab driver kept checking on me in the mirror every few seconds, because I almost melted down in her back seat.
Once my hands stopped shaking, I sent Pete a text letting him know I’d made it out of the hotel without incident. He called me right back, and after we dissected the conversation I’d had with Marcus, he said, “I’m glad you’re okay, and that you’re coming home.”
“Actually, I’m going to San Francisco, because I need to talk to my brother. I figured it would be best to do that face-to-face, but I’m dreading it.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s going to go on a rampage,” I said. “As soon as I tell him what happened, he’ll gather an army and go after him with everything he’s got. At the same time, Marcus has the resources to build an army of his own, and he and my brother will probably wage an all-out war. People could die, Pete, because I was stupid and too trusting.”
“So, are you sure you should tell him?”
“This affects him, so I can’t keep it a secret. If this was all some sort of scheme to get to my brother through me…” I thought about that and shook my head. “It doesn’t make sense, though. If he just wanted to find Adriano or cause him harm, there are much quicker and more efficient ways to go about that, besides seducing me. So, what was he playing at?”
“Maybe nothing,” Pete said. “Maybe it wasn’t some grand scheme to use you to get to your brother. He could have been telling the truth about just randomly finding you at the bar. Hell, he even could have been sincere about falling for you. But that doesn’t change the fact that he was lying, that whole time. He let you get close to him, while purposely withholding the fact that he’s your brother’s worst enemy. You know what Mario Greco did to your family, and what he’s capable of.”
“But he seemed so sweet and genuine…”
“It’s actually terrifying that he could put on another persona like that,” Pete said. “Talk about a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
“How could I be that wrong about someone? I feel like I can’t trust my instincts anymore, because I didn’t pick up on a single red flag.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Romy. You’re an open, trusting person. It’s your nature.”
I muttered, “Which is a nice way of saying I’m naïve and clueless.”
“Please don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself, or beat yourself up. You’re the victim here, and that man was obviously a master manipulator.”
“Yeah. Look, I’d better go. I need to get online and find a flight to San Francisco. But thank you, Pete, for everything. You’re a good friend.”
After I promised to check in soon, I ended the call and pulled up an airline’s website. I couldn’t read it though, because tears were blurring my vision.
I refused to break down and cry, though. Instead, I dragged a hand over my eyes and took a deep breath. Then I tapped into the thing that was fueling me and keeping me moving forward, instead of totally falling apart—pure, undiluted anger.