Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
The elevator doors slid open into a small, quiet hallway.
There were only two suites on this floor—hers was on the left.
Kathleen turned and walked toward her door.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled her key from her pocket, exhaustion from the day still clinging to her.
What a hell of a day it had been. She took a sip of her wine as the door clicked, and she pushed it open only for it to be wrenched violently from her hand.
Her heart leapt into her throat as her gaze snapped upward…
straight into the face of the man from the alley.
At least, she was almost sure it was him.
A small, startled cry tore out of her, but before she could react, he lunged forward and slammed her into the wall, spilling her wine all over her as she dropped the glass to the hallway carpet.
Pain flared across her shoulder, but this time she was ready. She lashed out instinctively, her nails catching his cheek. He hissed and jerked away, shaking her off with frightening strength.
“Let go!” he snarled, his voice rough, urgent.
Kathleen tried to grab his arm, refusing to freeze this time, but he shoved past her like she weighed nothing. He ran down the hallway to the stairwell door. He banged it open and slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing down the hallway.
Kathleen took three steps toward the stairwell door, but stopped herself.
Chasing him would be ridiculously dangerous, especially since she was in a dress and heels.
For a second, she stood frozen, chest heaving, staring at the empty space where he’d been.
Her pulse roared in her ears. She forced herself to turn back to her suite, picking up the wine glass from the carpet, noting that the red wine was soaking in.
It would be a hell of a stain. And what a stupid, random thought that was, considering she’d just been attacked for the second time today, by the same man.
Straightening, she fumbled with the code again, shoving the door open and stumbling over the threshold.
She paused to listen for any sounds coming from within, but the loud thump of her heart in her ears made it impossible to hear anything else.
She took a deep breath, calmed herself, and cocked her head.
No sound. All of her instincts said she was the only one in the hotel room.
She made her way across the living room and stopped to put the empty wine glass on the coffee table. Her hands were shaking so badly that she had to use both of them to steady the goblet. She grabbed the room phone and stabbed at the zero.
“Yes, Signora Drake?” a voice answered with a thick Italian accent.
“Someone was just in my room,” Kathleen blurted, her voice high and tight. “Hello? Someone was just in my room! They broke in, they’re running down the stairwell right now!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure!” she screeched, breath ragged.
“One moment. Hold, please.”
The line clicked, and fucking canned hold music grated on her eardrum. Kathleen stood there, vibrating with fury and disbelief, her grip white-knuckled on the receiver.
There was a knock at her door.
That was fast. Maybe things were improving. She set the phone down and crossed the room. She peered through the peephole, then pulled the door open in disbelief. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. She couldn’t deny the relief welling in her chest.
His eyes narrowed instantly, scanning her face and dress, and then the hall, the shadows beyond. His gaze dropped to the stained carpet. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone…” Her breath hitched. “Someone broke into my room.”
“What?” His tone sharpened instantly.
“Yes!” Her voice rose. “When I got off the elevator and opened the door, he was just there. He pulled the door out of my hand and scared the life out of me. He slammed me into the wall and took off!”
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay,” she said, her voice steadier now. “I got him, though.”
Enzo frowned, a dangerous edge flashing in his eyes. “What do you mean, you ‘got him’?”
“I managed to scratch him. You should see marks on his cheek. I tried to hold his arm, but he shrugged me off and went down the stairs.”
“Did you call the front desk?”
“I did,” she bit out. “But I don’t think they believed me.”
Enzo’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening. In four strides, he crossed to the phone, yanked it up, and barked Italian into the receiver. The clipped, cold edge of his voice sent a shiver down Kathleen’s spine. He paused, then said something sharper and hung up.
“They’re sending someone to check the stairwells,” he said. “Another team’s already reviewing the security footage.”
Kathleen rolled her eyes, frustration bubbling up with her fear. “Must be nice to be a man in this country.”
Enzo cut her a look. “They would have told you the same thing if you’d pushed.”
“I did push!” she snapped. “I was on the phone and they put me on fucking hold!” Even with her temper flaring, her hands were trembling. Her whole body was jittery, adrenaline still tearing through her system. Then something else clicked.
“It was the guy from the alley,” she said softly.
Enzo’s head whipped toward her. “Wait, what do you mean?”
“It was the man who stole my purse.”
Enzo’s expression hardened, eyes narrowing like a hawk’s. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. At least… I think so.” She rubbed her forehead, trying to steady her breath. “That was my first impression, that it was the same guy.”
“Then it was,” Enzo said flatly. “Always trust your first instincts on something like this. They’re usually right.”
She nodded once, the truth settling like a lead weight in her stomach. “Yeah… well, I’m pretty sure it was him.” Her gaze met his, her voice barely above a whisper. “What the hell does he want? He already has my purse.”
Enzo’s jaw flexed, his tone low and grim. “I don’t know. But that’s a good question.”
There was a sharp knock at the door. Enzo signaled her to stay still and went over to pull it open. A tall, lean man stepped inside, his suit perfectly pressed, his expression composed but serious.
“I am Alonzo Cavalli, head of security for the hotel.” He gave Kathleen a small, formal nod. “Signora Drake, I am so sorry for your difficulties. What can you tell us about what happened?”
Kathleen’s stomach churned. “Let’s sit,” she said, mainly because her knees were wobbly and felt like they could give out at any moment.
When had she become such a scaredy cat? She’d spent much of her life in witness protection.
How could this small incident unsettle her so much? Did old habits ever die?
Suddenly, she realized she’d missed what Cavalli had said as he was taking a seat on a chair across from her. “I’m sorry?” she said.
Cavalli gestured toward Enzo, who was now sitting beside her on the sofa. “Signore Valardi mentioned that the assailant pushed you into the wall, and I inquired as to whether you would like to see a dottore.”
She waved him off. “No, I’m fine.” She glanced down at her dress. It had been one of her favorites. A green jersey dress that clung to her curves, matched her eyes, and highlighted her red hair. “Maybe, though, you could help with dry cleaning?”
“Of course,” Cavalli replied.
“And I am afraid I dropped the wine glass I had in my hand, making a stain on the carpet.”
It was Cavalli’s turn to wave her off. “Think nothing of it, Signora. We are just glad you are okay. Please tell me what happened.”
Kathleen ran through her story again, keeping it neat and succinct. There wasn’t much to tell anyway. It all happened so fast.
Cavalli frowned, his brows knitting together. “We did not find him in the stairwell. And…” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “We’ve checked the security cameras. There’s nothing there.”
Kathleen stiffened. “Well, I didn’t imagine it,” she snapped, pointing to her dress. “It’s not like I would spill wine on myself and your carpet on purpose.”
“No, Signora,” Cavalli said quickly, hands raised slightly in reassurance. “I don’t imagine you did. We’re checking now to see what could have happened. I am so very sorry.”
Enzo commented. “You think your security system could have been hacked?”
Cavalli hesitated. “We have been doing some upgrades, so anything is possible, I suppose, but the hotel’s system really is quite state-of-the-art.” He gave a small shrug. “We will look into it, of course.”
“Thank you,” Kathleen muttered, though her tone was flat. What else was she supposed to say at this point? She was exhausted, totally destroyed from the adrenaline crash.
“Did the…assailant take anything?” Cavalli asked.
Kathleen’s eyes widened. She hadn’t even thought to check. “I… I don’t know. I haven’t looked around.”
“If you could do so,” Cavalli said gently, “we can file an accurate report.”
Kathleen groaned. The last thing she wanted was to file another report with the police. Not after the circus earlier.
Enzo clearly caught her groan and the flicker of distress on her face, because he stepped in smoothly.
“Why don’t you give us a few minutes?” he said to Cavalli. “Kathleen will check, and we’ll let you know.”
Cavalli nodded, his expression respectful. “Very good,” he said as he stood. “And again, Signora Drake, I am deeply sorry.”
Kathleen barely managed a nod, distracted already. She rose, and Enzo stood along with her. He escorted Cavalli to the door as she looked around the living area. She hadn’t left anything in here. Her mind spun as she headed up the stairs toward the bedroom, her stomach knotted tight.
She scanned the space quickly. Nothing seemed disturbed. Her new clothes were still tucked neatly in the bags where she’d left them. She opened the closet doors and drawers—everything she’d brought with her was still there.