Anna - 5
Luca places his hand on my leg, and I jerk slightly. I feel a sense of unease as his fingers brush against my skin. His touch turns my stomach, and I can't help but think of the FBI files I've seen with his face plastered on them. I know he's high up in the Bonventi family and a very dangerous man.
My heart starts beating faster when he tells me he's leaving and that he'll be back in the morning.
I can't leave? What about Gabriel?
As the men leave, I lock eyes with Gabriel across the room. His expression is unreadable, but I see the muscle twitching in his clenched jaw.
The door slams shut, their muffled voices fading down the hall until there's only silence.
I let out a deep breath and sink back into the couch. My mind is racing, trying to process everything that's happened in the past few hours. The party, the hit, Bill's death - it's all too much.
I close my eyes. I need to focus, to think clearly. I can't afford to make any mistakes, not when I'm now this close to the Bonventi family.
I stand, and my legs are heavy. I cross the room, removing my heels as I go, and feel the cool tile on my sore feet.
I'm greeted by a large bed adorned with plush linens and pillows, a thick rug covering the floor, and a view of the Chicago skyline.
The bathroom is fitting for the suite, with floor-to-ceiling marble, a deep soaking tub, and a glass-enclosed shower complete with multiple shower heads.
I run my fingers over the smooth countertop, taking in the array of expensive toiletries and grooming tools.
I'm almost positive the size of this bathroom is more than half of my apartment.
I turn on the faucet, letting the water run over my hands, trying to wash away the memories of the night's events. But it's no use. I look up and stare at my reflection in the mirror. For the first time, I notice I have specks of red on my dress - blood.
My stomach churns as I realize how unprepared I feel.
Suddenly, images of Bill's lifeless body flash before me.
The scene plays again, inescapable - yelling, gunfire, Bill's dead eyes staring back at me as he lay on the floor. The coppery stench of blood fills my nostrils. I can't escape it. I clutch the counter, fighting panic as the room starts to spin.
I reach for a towel, drying my hands and wiping my dress, the white towel shows streaks of red as I scrub parts of my dress. Somehow it doesn't remove the blood, just spreads it, and I stop and throw the towel in the corner.
I walk over and collapse onto the bed, my body starts to tense up, and I know what's coming.
I start to sob uncontrollably. The dam finally breaks, and I can no longer contain the wave of grief crashing over me as my mind and body finally process what's happened.
The loss of Bill, my partner and mentor, hits me like nothing I've ever experienced. He was the one who was supposed to guide me through this, to help me navigate this mission. But now he's gone, and I'm left to fend for myself.
I tell myself through it all, I'm strong, but I need this moment. I need to grieve.
Doomed thoughts seep into my mind. I feel utterly alone, left in the world of criminals and killers in the dark without my light.
No one to turn to, no trusted ally or advisor to guide me.
One wrong step, one false move, and I'll end up another lifeless body on a cold slab beside Bill.
The mission has gotten infinitely more dangerous, and I question whether I'm truly ready for this.
I lay there, motionless, eyes puffy, exhausted from my grief. I feel drained, hollow, numb. It's as if I've cried out every last drop of sorrow, of fear, of overwhelming despair that I have to offer the world. And oddly, I feel some clarity starting to take shape.
Bill is gone, that much is certain. As much as I rage against it, as much as I would give anything to rewind time, his death is a fact.
My mentor, my friend - cut down without mercy by these depraved Russian assholes.
But his memory will live on in me. I am his legacy now, his final piece in this unfinished operation.
I sit up slowly, pushing aside damp stray hairs from my face as I straighten my shoulders. There will be time to mourn him properly later, when this is all over. But for now, I need to set aside the grief and channel the rage simmering in my veins.
These animals didn't just kill what they thought was an Irish mobster tonight.
In their arrogance, in their mindless bloodlust for more, they took out an undercover federal agent, and for that, they will pay.
Bill didn't die for nothing - his sacrifice lit the fuse that will ultimately burn them to the ground.
This mission is no longer just about justice - it's about proving myself, about belonging to something greater.
The first thing I need to do is find a way to get in contact with our FBI handlers for this mission. I need to break away without it being obvious. I don't exactly know how I'm going to do that just yet; I'll see how tomorrow plays out, but that'll probably be my first move.
I rub my forehead to fight off the headache and know I can't sleep until I've done one thing - shed myself of this damn night.
I turn on the shower and practically tear the dress off of me. I throw it in a small trashcan under the sink and step into the shower. The warm water cascades down, washing the night off of me.
I slip into a heavy cotton robe that hangs from a hook and tie the rope into a knot.
I lay on the bed and take a few deep breaths and before I know it, my eyes shut and I fall into a deep sleep.
Morning arrives too soon. I sit up, rubbing my eyes and take in my surroundings in daylight. The suite feels empty and cold without the cover of darkness.
Just as I'm about to hop out of bed, I hear a loud knock coming from the front door. Instinctively, I tense, my heart pounding in my chest.
After a few moments, another series of firm knocks breaks the silence. "Room service," someone calls out.
I clutch my robe tighter around myself and walk over to the door.
I notice a small screen atop a table; it's a camera showing who's on the other side of the door.
I see a young man in a crisp uniform standing there, a covered tray in his hands.
I can't make out any obvious threat, but I remain on guard as I place my hand on the handle to open the door.
Nothing happens.
Shit, that's right, I can't open it.
"I'm sorry," I yell, "I can't unlock the door," I continue as I shift to look at the small screen again.
I see a man come between the young man and the door and wave something, and hear the door unlock.
"Good morning, ma'am," he says with a polite smile. "You're breakfast. Courtesy of Mr. Romano."
He walks past, I look at the man who opened the door. He looks down at me and I recognize him from when Luca was here - he's the one given the task of guarding my door.
I turn and follow the waiter into the kitchen, where he's arranging a place for me to eat.
"I'm sorry, who is this from again?" I ask.
Without looking up, the man replies, "Mr. Romano."
"Mr. Romano?"
"Yes, ma'am. Luca Romano."
He removes the steel cover, revealing a full spread - pastries, toast, jam, fruits, eggs, and a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice.
"Mr. Romano also wanted me to inform you that he will be by later this afternoon to escort you out."
"Did he mention a time or place?" I say without hesitation.
The man finishes what he's doing and looks up at me, "No, ma'am. He did not, but he did want me to give you this as well.”
He disappears back out into the hallway and then returns with a large box.
“What is that?” I ask, as he places the box down in front of me.
“It’s for you, ma’am. I am not sure.” He smiles and nods, "Please enjoy your breakfast."
He walks past me and out of the hotel suite. Luca's security enforcer just stares at me blankly.
"Would you happen to know when Luca's coming?" I ask. The man says nothing and shuts the door.
I hear it lock and I'm alone once again.
I walk back over to the box and open it. Inside I see dresses, random clothing, and a few pairs of shoes. I lift one of the dresses out of the box and examine it. It’s got less material than my revealing outfit from the party.
So he wants to show me off? Put me on display?
The thought makes me uncomfortable, but I remind myself that this is part of the job. I need to use every asset at my disposal to complete this mission.
I sit at the counter and suddenly feel ravenous. I devour the food, barely tasting it as my mind turns with possibilities. If Luca is coming for me later, that means I have a window of time to make my next move.
I lick a stray smear of jam from my finger and think about my options.
If my first order of business is contacting the Bureau to update them on this disastrous turn of events, I'll need to ditch any surveillance I'm undoubtedly under and make the call from a secure location.
I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to do that, but that's the main objective today - no matter where he takes me.
I finish my orange juice and stand, my eyes drifting to the box of clothes Luca sent. A fleeting thought crosses my mind - will Gabriel be wherever Luca's taking me?
Ugh, maybe it doesn't matter. I’m annoyed with him for even bringing me here and I can't afford distractions, not when the stakes are this high.
Either way, by the time Luca arrives to "escort" me, I'll be ready, a vision of innocence with a focused operator lurking underneath.
A wolf in sheep's clothing, as they say.