Chapter 49
Chiara
Itake a seat next to Fina. The hard plastic makes my ass ache, but I ignore the discomfort. It’s nothing compared to hers.
Angelo doesn’t believe there is any real danger, not now Lorenzo is dead, but he isn’t taking any chances.
Fina holds Matteo’s hand as he lies still. He’s lost weight since being here, and his normally close-cropped hair now curls over his ears.
I wonder how long Fina plans to keep up her bedside vigil. From what the doctors have told Angelo, there is no guarantee Matteo will recover. One expert suggested he might remain in a coma indefinitely; they simply don’t know.
“How is he today?” I ask brightly.
“He’s looking better,” she replies with a fake smile. “I thought his hand twitched earlier, so maybe he’s starting to wake up?”
I nod. “That’s a good sign.” We both know the other is full of shit, but neither of us acknowledges it.
“There was a fun story in the Times this morning,” I comment. “They added a nice mugshot of Tim Remington.”
Fina snorts. “I know. Nothing about Dad, though.”
“No. The official word is he’s retired to Sicily to enjoy the sun.”
There’s a sigh. “I need to get back into the office. Vanessa can’t write for shit.” Vanessa is the woman Angelo hired to manage the press in Fina’s absence, but she’s useless.
“I spotted ten spelling mistakes in the feature this morning. But hey, she’s better than Francesca.”
“Felix would do a better job than Francesca,” Fina agrees with a smirk.
“I hear she’s in Dubai.”
Fina turns in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah. Angelo said something about her working on yachts for rich Arabs?” Working on luxury yachts didn’t sound too bad. I guessed she’s angling for a new sugar daddy now Lorenzo isn’t funding her lifestyle.
“She’s a yacht girl?”
“Um, yeah, that’s what he said.”
“God, that’s grim.”
“Why? Working as crew can’t be that bad. I mean, I’ve watched that series, Below Deck, and the crew work long hours, but the yachts are nice and you get time off and decent tips.”
“Chiara, working as a yacht girl is not about making beds and serving food.”
I blink. “It’s not?”
“No. Yacht girls are there to add glamour, and more often than not, fuck the men on the boat. Some of what goes on is utterly depraved. Rich men have no morals.”
I think back to the level below the sex club. The rooms that were filled with naked girls, the men eager to purchase a girl so they could act out their most depraved desires with no consequences.
Fina hasn’t said a word about her experience. All we know is that she suffered no lasting physical harm. But psychologically? The jury is still out on that one.
I watch as Fina clutches Matteo’s hand like it’s a life raft, the only thing preventing her from spiraling into an abyss of panic.
“What happened in that place?” I ask in a low voice. Bottling it up isn’t helping her.
Fina says nothing for ages, but just as I’m about to stand and ask if she wants a hot drink, she speaks.
“I’d fallen asleep after we arrived at the hotel.
Matteo had gone for a shower. I woke to find a man standing over me with a syringe in his hand.
He wore a black mask. When I screamed, Matteo came running out of the bathroom.
A second man shot him.” She swallows hard, and a tear slides down her cheek as she squeezes Matteo’s hand so tight I worry for his fingers.
“They must have knocked me out because when I next woke up, I was in a small room. Still wearing my PJs thankfully. Nobody came for ages, but eventually a man appeared. He said something about an auction and then disappeared. Some time after that, Tim Remington arrived. He told me Santini was dead, and that Dad was angry.”
“Boo hoo.” She smiles.
“Then he told me I had to repay the debt. When I asked what the fuck he was talking about, he just laughed and left.”
“You must have been terrified.” A mental snapshot of the broken women in the rooms, too traumatized to even acknowledge the men leering at them, makes me shudder.
“I was terrified for my baby.” She rests her hand on her belly. Angelo knows about the baby; apparently Dr. Cliff told him after Fina fainted.
“The baby is healthy,” I remind her. Thank god. Losing her baby as well as Matteo would have been too much.
“The baby is why I’m still here,” she admits. “I have to be strong for her. She needs me even more now.” Sad eyes gaze at Matteo, and I fight against the tears that want to escape.
This is the first time she’s admitted out loud she knows he might not recover. My heart breaks for her, but she’s right. She needs to prioritize her baby. And sitting here day after day isn’t good for her.
“You and the baby are safe now,” I remind her. “No more arranged marriages to worry about.”
“Thank god,” she mutters.
“And guess what: Santini died knowing what a loser he was.” I grin at the memory of his face when I called him a sad loser. Served the bastard right.
Fina chuckles before wiping her eyes. “I’ve decided to focus on the foundation once we find someone more suitable as our PR person. Vanessa can stay as their assistant.”
She tells me about her plans to expand the Di Rossi Foundation’s good work with abused women and children, and as she talks, her face lights up.
Having something else to focus on will be good for her. Fina’s the perfect figurehead for such an important charity, and as a woman who grew up under the thumb of a misogynistic man, she understands what many of the women have dealt with.
“I’m proud of you,” I tell her when she’s finished outlining her plans for a new fundraising drive.
Her eyes sparkle with excitement. “It’s going to be—” Then she freezes and turns to look at Matteo. “His hand,” she gasps. “I felt him move!”
I stare at Matteo, wondering if perhaps she’s delusional. He looks no different to me.
“Maybe it was—”
“No, he’s coming round. Look, his eyes twitched!”
The machine connected to his body by a million wires beeps louder when his heart rate spikes. Fina bursts into tears as Matteo’s eyelids flutter before they crack open and he gags on the tube in his throat.
Fina slams her hand down on the call button next to his bed, and a nurse comes running in.
“He’s waking up!”