Page 10 of She Belongs to Me

As dawn had risen I’d done little but pace the floor. I knew Italy was five hours ahead of this location and it had been late when I’d called. I knew he had a private jet, but the flight time was still at minimum eight hours.

Now it was almost nine in the morning. I was exhausted, overwrought, and still so terrified breathing was impossible.

The morning news hadn’t offered much of anything, including the dead man’s name. It was just listed as an ongoing investigation. The only thing that was new was that the FBI had been mentioned. The crime was obviously a bigger deal than I’d realized.

God. What had I done? Of all the times to decide to do something nice.

The third-floor room was a typical walkup on the outside. Few of those existed any longer. It wasn’t the best of accommodations, but it was clean and that’s all that mattered. It also had the thick drapes from the eighties, which shut out all the light and prying eyes.

The sun was bright, the day beautiful, and I’d never wanted to crawl into a hole more than I did right now. I peeked around the curtain, seeing nothing odd in the parking lot. I was frustrated, so far over the edge I was certain I’d fall.

The analogy was provided by a tired brain.

If only I could get some sleep.

The sharp ring of my phone made me jump several feet.

“Shit. Shit.” I rushed toward it, half expecting the murderer and his thugs had found my number. Seeing my godfather’s number almost made me gleeful.

“Nico.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gruffer and filled with even more concern than before.

“Yes. There’s been nothing unusual. But I’m so scared.”

“I know you are. The men report the same. There’s nothing going on. We just landed. I’ll be there as soon as possible. Just breathe for me, baby girl.”

“Okay.” My voice was still so tiny, as if there was nothing left of the strong woman inside, the one who’d graduated at the top of her class from college and was currently kicking butt in medical school.

I’d always been precocious, or as my aunt Kim used to say, too intelligent for my own good. What she’d never had issues with was me getting into trouble. Well, maybe once or twice. Making faces at my teacher had been the basic extent of my bad girl era. That she’d known about anyway. I’d been the one to act like den mother during the beach trip after high school graduation. It had been a good thing one of the four of us had been responsible or I had a feeling all four of us would have ended up in jail.

A subtle, emotionless laugh left my lips. Had I known then what I knew now, I don’t know if that would have changed me.

What I couldn’t fathom was the total disruption of my life. I was so close to having everything I wanted. This was such a nightmare.

After a few seconds, I grabbed my laptop, flipping it on. I was able to connect to the hotel’s shitty wi-fi, which allowed me to continue surfing to find out anything I could about the murderers. They were very dangerous men, reportedly responsible for dozens of gangland and corporate-style killings.

Most of the time, it appeared they tortured their victims first.

Great.

I could only imagine what the notorious, brutal leader would do to me if I was caught.

Unable to take reading about their horrors any longer, I toyed with searching for my godfather. I honestly knew very little about him other than he was rich and lived in Italy. He’d always been closed off during the years, keeping his private life very private. As a girl, I’d envisioned him more like a knight on a steed, always coming to my rescue.

Why not see what I could find? What could it hurt?

As I searched through the gloriously handsome photographs that appeared on the internet, I shuddered from the strange, new sense of electricity coursing through me.

It was strange to hear his Italian accent after what seemed like forever. I’d adored it as a child, asking him to say anything in Italian. It hadn’t mattered. I remember he used to read me Italian stories. I couldn’t understand a word, but his melodic voice had soothed me every time.

He used to call me baby girl, but that had stopped when I’d entered high school. Sadly, I hadn’t seen him in a very long time. He used to fly over for Christmas, Easter, or my birthday every so often. Even that had stopped as I’d grown older. He’d been very good to me, but aloof. I’d never understood it.

When I’d been old enough to learn what happened during the christening, I’d asked Nico about details and he’d provided very little other than he’d been there and had made it his life’s mission to hunt down my father’s killer.

I had to admit, in the pictures with Nico in a tuxedo, his smile captured a twinkling expression I’d rarely seen. He was one handsome and very sexy man.

And I shouldn’t be thinking of him that way. I’d wanted to consider him a father figure when I was young, but that would have required him spending real time with me. When I’d moved into adulthood, it had stopped him cold.