19. Victoria
19
VICTORIA
There’s no escape.
I searched around the house from my perch on the lower roof, looking for a soft-ish place to drop to the ground, and I found the perfect spot. The only problem? It’s right next to Angelo’s porch, in front of a giant picture window.
There are swarms of men covering the grounds. It seems like there’s a pair making a round every five seconds. The dedicated patrols are making it impossible for me to get down the medium-sized tree flanking the porch without being seen. Not to mention the vast expanse of the front lawn I’d have to try and get across.
Angelo’s security team runs like clockwork. And, even if I did chance it, I’m not sure how I could tackle the six-foot metal fence surrounding the property. You know, the one with a closed gate and an occupied guardhouse at the end of the drive.
I’m in a tightly locked fortress with no way out.
Frustrated, I circle back and close the window I escaped from, elated to find Angelo still lying on the floor where I left him. This time I climb up, hoping no one will think to search for me on the upper roof.
But I’m not taking any chances.
I dial the number Dante gave me, praying someone picks up.
This is my one shot.
After this call, I need to turn off the phone so Angelo can’t use it to find me. He may think I’m still in the house, maybe he’ll think I slipped through the window, but again, his men are like wind-up soldiers and I don’t see how any hostage could escape. Least of all me.
Angelo deserves to be proud of the sick efficiency of his operation, the prick.
On the third ring, I’m doubting whether my plan will work when a deep and angry voice answers.
“ What ?”
The hostility in the man’s voice takes me aback and I lose my train of a thought for a moment.
“Umm…” Spit it out, Victoria, before he hangs up. “Enzo? Dante Moretti told me to call you if I was in trouble.”
Silence is the only response. I’m borderline freaking out. This number was supposed to be my escape plan.
My husband’s plan.
My only plan.
“What’s the codeword?” The voice is only slightly more gentle as he prompts me.
“Mine,” I answer immediately. Leave it to Dante to be possessive, even at a time like this. “We’re in trouble. I was told you could help.”
“Depends.”
My brows crash together. I didn’t think I’d be greeted like this. And seriously, where is the optimism here? “On?”
“What kind of trouble?”
Is this guy for real? Why would Dante put so much trust in a guy who is so nitpicky?
“What do you need to know?” I counter, trying to keep my fear and rising temper in check. I need a Hail Mary ASAP if I’m going to save Dante.
And this individual is taking his sweet-ass time getting it together.
“Where’s Dante?”
“In Angelo Lombardi’s house. Or mansion, rather. It’s fully stocked with armed men and I can’t leave.”
“Are you in a room or something?”
“No. I got out.”
“Then where are you?”
“On the roof.” More deafening silence. Does he know we’re kind of on a time crunch here? “Can you help or not? Please, I’m not sure how much time we have.”
“Where did you say you were again?”
“The roof .” I know it sounds insane, so I elaborate. “I knocked Angelo out with a lamp and climbed out the window. There’s a tree that I could use to get down, but there are way too many men that pass by and nowhere to hide if I launched myself out of it. The nearest bush is, like, fifty yards away and I was trying to find a secure place to call you so that you could get Dante out. He’s tied up somewhere or….” No. No, no, no. He’s not dead. I’d know. “I’m not sure how you’re going to get in. This place is locked up like a fort.”
Despair creeps through me. This was stupid. We’re never getting out of here.
“Don’t worry about that,” the man on the other line claims confidently. “What’s Dante’s condition?”
“He was shot…in the back of the leg. His calf, I think.”
“But he’s not dead?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
My jaw tightens. No, I’m not. I have no clue where he is right now. “I think so.”
“Listen, Lucy ,” the man scolds, using my fake name and making his exasperation clear. “If I’m running a rescue operation, I need details. How many people am I saving? Who am I looking for? Is it necessary for me to bring a med kit? How many rounds of ammo should I bring?”
“I gave you all the details I have,” I retort. “Expect the ammo part. I could count the men if you need?—”
“No,” he drawls. “I don’t need you to count the men.”
Okay…
I’d love to say this guy is fired based on his customer service alone, but he has to be good at what he does. Dante would never send me to him if he didn’t have the utmost faith in this Enzo’s abilities.
“So, you can help?” I press, desperate for some spark of hope that someone will swoop in and save the day.
“When was the last time you saw Dante?”
“A few hours ago, I think. They separated us immediately after I was sold off in some bullshit auction. If Angelo isn’t up and walking around yet, he will be soon. He’ll be looking for me, since right now he doesn’t have me to hand over after taking more than three million dollars from some rich politician.”
“Damn.”
My fingers itch holding the phone. I can’t take much more waiting. Can Enzo pull off a miracle or not?
“Look, Enzo, I’m really trying to be patient here,” I stress. “But I’m freaking out. And you sound like you think this is a lost cause.”
“It’s not,” he states evenly. “Though I'm uncertain whether I'll be able to make it in time.”
“In time for what?”
“In time before they kill Dante, if you’re not where they put you.”
Did I just make things WORSE?!
A broken sob rips from my throat. How is it possible that I feel more inferior now than I did two seconds ago?
I don’t know what I was thinking.
I should’ve tried something else. Maybe I should have gone through the house and looked for somewhere to hide until I could find Dante’s room.
He would’ve been surrounded by guards. You were never going to just waltz in there.
“Hey, now,” the man scolds. “No crying. Focus.”
“On what?” I shoot back. “I’m stuck on a roof and my husband is somewhere in this house and I can’t do anything about it. Do you want me to go back inside?”
“Just stay put,” he orders. “I’ve got four hours until dawn. I might be able to make it.”
“And what if you don’t? What should I do?”
“Just stay put. Don’t move.”
“But you just said you may not make it and I’m not going to?—”
“I’ll worry about that. Look for the flashing red light. I’ll be right in front of you.”
And then he hangs up.
I drop my phone into my lap and bring my knees up to my chest.
Don’t move.
If he’s not here by the time I see the sun rising, I’m going to do something myself.
I can’t just sit here while Angelo murders my husband.
I’d never forgive myself if something happened to him while I was waiting on some broody stranger with no sense of urgency.
Call him if you run into any issues. Repeat his number again.
Oh, Dante. Who the hell is this guy?
Based on his attitude, I wouldn’t want to rely on him to bring me coffee before it got cold.
I glance down at the phone’s clock and begin my countdown.
I hope Enzo shows up in time.
If he doesn’t, I’ll kill him myself.