Page 8 of Unspoken Obsession

He flicks a massive screen on, taking up an entire wall in his office. A map of the tunnels lights the room.

He points to a section further away from the casino, closer to where the trucks collect the product on the outside. "This is where we had some minor issues two days ago. I don't think it's anything to worry about, but I wanted to make you aware of it."

"When you say issues?—"

"Two crates are fucked. At first, I thought it was just mishandling, but on closer inspection, it looks like it was deliberate tampering. I checked the cameras, but they both went down in that section of the tunnel."

"I see."

Lorenzo steps closer to the screen, squinting at the image. "Where does this one come out?" he asks.

"Back of Archer Street. Close to the truck yard." It's an exposed exit. We don't use it too often.

"Are there men set up near that exit?" I nod. "In fact, I think we should increase security at all exits? Even inactive ones."

"Agreed. Set up additional crews at each exit point. For now, we take precautions, but I don't want to overreact." Drawing attention to our operation increases the risk of getting caught.

After the meeting downstairs, I head back up for dinner and plan to get an early night.

I haven't been sleeping well. My mind is always racing.

Thoughts of Dani and where she might be.

Flashes of the mysterious woman in the gold dress.

Worries about my businesses and how I can extend my coverage in the city.

My mind never seems to find peace.

Perhaps that is why I am so caught up in the idea of that little fox. She is an escape for me. Something beautiful in a dark world. Something that sparks inside me and makes me come alive. Because I did - that night - I was more alive than I've ever been.

FRANCESCA

Iwake up with a hangover and I can't remember drinking at all. A wave of nausea tightens my stomach and I throw myself out of bed and bolt to the bathroom - only just making it in time.

I gasp for air, my head hanging over the toilet bowl. What the fuck did I eat?

I only had lasagna yesterday and that wouldn't be off. It's never made me sick before.

I stand up, flushing away the horrible experience, and then wash my face with cold water. I splash it over my cheeks and take deep breaths to stop the nausea from bubbling up again. Ugh, I hope this is not a bug.

What is wrong with me?

Pressing my hand against my stomach, I groan. It hurts.

I get dressed -- pulling the long cream dress over my shoulders, running my hands over the soft cotton, and closing my eyes for a moment.

I'll be ok. It must just be a tummy bug or some plague going around.

Downstairs, someone is brewing coffee, and the smell is disgusting. I love coffee. Why is it so gross? Never in my life could I imagine being disgusted by coffee. I need it to survive.

I walk down the stairs towards the kitchen, wondering if I should make a ginger tea. Nausea disappears as though it was never there. I'm fine.

What in the world is going on - that makes no sense at all.

I press my hand against my stomach again. Maybe it's my period - I'm due to - no - oh no -

Panic surges through me.