52. He Will Find Me
CHAPTER 52
HE WILL FIND ME
I sabella
My eyes snap open, and I jolt up from the stone floor, my heart racing. A dim lantern hangs from the far wall, barely illuminating the dark, empty space. I suck in a breath and attempt to still the mad pounding for fear someone will hear it and come for me. A familiar earthy scent clings to the room, invading my nostrils. The air is cool and musty, heavy with the scent of damp earth and the faint, lingering aroma of… aged wine.
A wine cellar.
We have one in the basement of our summer home in Montauk. Dim light filters through cracks in the cellar door, casting long, slanting beams across the cobwebbed darkness. I glance around the chamber and as my eyes become used to the poor lighting, I can just make out rows of empty wooden racks that stretch like skeletal fingers along the walls. Pushing myself up, a sharp ache swings my attention to the golf-ball-sized knot on the back of my head. That bastardo . I gingerly finger the sensitive area, then curse Professor Massimo and his damned pretty green eyes and chic glasses. What the actual hell? And who was that thug that jumped out of the trunk?
No way my professor is the mastermind behind this kidnapping.
Now, where am I?
I scan the room for my purse, which has my phone, but of course there’s nothing. A hint of panic starts to roll in, but I shove it down, determined not to let it control me. Just breathe, Bella. You’ve been in worse situations than this, right? A live shootout would definitely be worse, and I’ve been in three in the past few months.
This I can handle. I have time to think. I just have to puzzle this out, be observant like Raf has attempted to drill into me all these months.
Raf… Oh, Dio , he’s going to lose his shit when he finds out I’ve been taken. And then he’s going to kill me once he finds me.
And I have every confidence that he will find me.
Walking around the large, musty chamber, I search for something, anything I can use as a weapon. Immense wooden casks lie on their sides in the far corner, swollen shut by years of neglect. Those wine barrels are a bit too unwieldy, but I don’t disregard them completely yet.
I walk toward the massive double doors carved out of an ancient wood with iron hinges securing it to the roughhewn stone walls. Pressing my ear to the door, I listen for a sound, anything.
I waffle for a minute, debating between screaming my lungs out and pretending to still be unconscious. Maybe I should just wait it out. If I stand behind the door, then I can in theory get the drop on my kidnapper.
Yes. That’s what I’ll do.
Now I only need a weapon. I pass by an antique mirror, spiderwebs covering the patinaed glass and catch a glimpse of the flower still tucked into my ponytail. The oleander. A smile slides across my face as I eye the poisonous bloom through the mirror. “Thanks, Raf,” I whisper. “Even when you’re not with me, you’re always looking out.”
Careful not to touch the toxic petals, I pluck it from my hair, touching only the foil-covered stem, then slip it into my back pocket for easy access. I pace the length of the old wine cellar for a few more minutes before I begin to lose patience, and the anxiety starts to take hold once again.
I dart toward the door, unable to control myself. “Let me out!” I shout, banging my fist against the old timber. “Massimo! You can’t keep me in here!” I stop and wait, listening again with my hand hovering just over the oleander blossom.
Nothing.
So I start to pound again.
“Get me out of here, you pezzo di merda !” I spit out a colorful mix of Italian and English curses that would have my mom cringing and my brother Vinny thoroughly impressed. The warm and fuzzy thoughts of my family have that panic rising again, but I shove it down hard. I will see them all again soon. Don’t even go there, Bella .
The slap of approaching footfalls sends my heart catapulting up my ribcage. I dart behind the door and cautiously grip the oleander between my thumb and forefinger, careful not to let the petals graze my skin. My heartbeat escalates with each step closer, my pulse hammering in my ears like a relentless drum.
The door opens a crack, and I hold my breath, pressing my back against the rough slabs of stone.
“Isabella?” Massimo’s voice only twists the fear into anger. I’d trusted that asshole, given Raf so much shit for his paranoia and my professor betrayed me! He pushes the door open all the way, and I lunge around the thick timber, then shove the lethal pink blossom right into his face.
He gasps, and I manage to get some of it inside his mouth. His eyes widen as I keep my hand clapped over his face until he begins to struggle against me. Thanks to Raf’s tireless efforts and years of Krav Maga, I hold my own for a few seconds, keeping the toxic flower crushed against his face, before he overpowers me, and I stumble back.
I hit the floor, my tailbone smacking the hard stone and sending pain shooting up my spine. “Fuck,” I grit out.
“ Che cazzo ?” he hisses, coughing and spluttering. “What the hell was that?” His mouth twists, and a pallid sheen starts to coat his skin.
I have no idea how quickly the poison takes effect, but he’s already clutching his stomach, nostrils flaring.
His unfocused gaze tracks down to the crushed petals of the oleander, littering the floor. “No…”
I offer a wicked smirk. “Oh, yes.”
His hand lifts to his chest, pressing his palm against his heart, and I wonder if he’s starting to feel the toxins penetrating his coronary system. Erratic heartbeat, palpitations, and dizziness if I remember correctly. If left untreated, it can cause cardiac arrest. “What did you do?”
“What did you do?” I spit back. “Where am I?”
He staggers back, leaning against the door behind him, which he’s failed to lock. I inch closer, waiting for the right moment to make my move. “I didn’t want to do this,” he whispers. “He made me… he threatened my family…” His breaths are coming hard and fast now, an unnatural pallor coating his suddenly sallow cheeks. “He had Carlo killed because I couldn’t—” His words fall away as his knees give out, and he sinks to the ground.
I don’t wait another second.
Lunging for the door, I squirm past him and dart into a dark hallway.
“Isabella, no!” Massimo’s shouts fade in the distance as I blindly race down the corridor.
I have no idea where I’m going, but I need to get out of here before I find out who he is. My mind swirls with possibilities, my heart pounding in time with my quickening footfalls. Raf was wrong. He isn’t the target; I am.
It is all about me. It always is.
I hit a dead end with a staircase as my only option. Guess, I’m going up. A rush of voices filters down the steps, and I mutter a curse. Spinning around in the direction I came, I internally berate myself for not having checked Massimo for a weapon. With my oleander gone, I’m completely defenseless now.
Well, except for the Krav Maga, which I’ve pretty much abandoned since the arrival of my new bodyguard. You are Isabella Valentino, and you will not die today . For some reason, my inner voice sounds suspiciously like Raf. For once, I agree with him.
I will not die.
The smack of heavy footfalls approaching pushes me to quicken my pace. Pumping my arms to force my legs to cover more ground, I dart down the corridor, passing the wine cellar and race in the opposite direction.
“Come on, come on.” There has to be another door. There is no way the previous owners of this villa lugged those wine casks up that narrow staircase. There must be another exit. A few yards ahead, I can just make out the end of the hallway.
And a door!
I knew it! Sprinting now, as the footsteps draw ever closer, I push myself to the limit, until my calf muscles are screaming from the strain. I barrel into the door, attempt to yank back the metal bar across the wood, but it doesn’t budge.
“No!” I hiss as I jerk at the rusted old metal. “Come on, please.” I pull harder, my arms straining, and I feel it. A slight budge. Then with a sharp keen, the bar slides out and the door creaks open. I jerk it back, and cool night air washes over my heated skin.
I race across a cobblestone courtyard, winding around a classic Roman fountain which spits water across my burning flesh. Lush gardens surround me, olive trees and tall cypresses encircling the grounds. I reach the end of the yard, and my breath hitches.
I’m standing atop a rolling hill with the flickering lights of Rome stretched out below me. No, no, no. It’s too far . A wrought-iron fence encloses the perimeter, more guards lining every corner.
My stomach sinks.
“Miss Valentino, finally we meet in person.” A male voice I don’t recognize sails on the breeze, compelling the tiny hairs on my arms to stand on end.
I spin around, forcing my shoulders back and a steely set to my jaw as I face my kidnapper. A pair of inky orbs lock on mine, the startling similarity sending ice rushing through my veins.
There’s not a single doubt in my mind, even before he speaks.
A sinister grin curls the man’s lips, lifting the ends of his mustache. “I’m so happy to finally meet the woman who has stolen my son’s heart after so many years.” He steps closer, and a horde of black-uniformed guards move in a wave around him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Isabella. I am Alfredo Ferrara.”