Page 59 of Mafia And Taken
I sighed. “You can call her once we’re in Italy and have set up a secure line that can’t be traced. I’ll get Danio working on it straight away—he’s an IT whizz. He’ll route it so that the FBI won’t know which country we’re in. It may take a couple of days to set up.”
After that, Cate went back to ignoring me, and it was clear she didn’t want to talk to me.
After everything that had happened, I knew that I would have to let her get used to me slowly.
She was still really jumpy, and I didn’t want to force myself on her after what she had been through with the Bratva.
CATE
It was morning when we finally arrived in Italy, and I was exhausted after my broken sleep.
Alessio helped me out of my seat and off the plane, and we got into the waiting SUVs which would drive us to where we would be staying. I was still furious with him and that wasn’t going to change any time soon.
I looked out of the car window with interest, taking in my first views of Italy.
I’d never been abroad before. My father had always been too busy with work, and he wasn’t one for long vacations. Most vacations we had taken were at our lake house, although we did go to Florida a couple of times.
We had landed in Naples—I had overheard Camillo mention this. Although I had never been to Italy, my knowledge of its geography was good. When I was growing up, my father had a large map of Italy on the wall in his office. I had spent hours looking at it over the years, thinking about which places I wanted to visit one day.
Little did I know back then that this was how my first trip to Italy would go—forcibly brought here against my will.
I was mesmerized by the view of the wide blue sea in the distance, and I knew that I must be looking at the Bay of Naples. My awe increased when I saw what could only be Mount Vesuvius, the volcano which had famously destroyed the Roman city of Pompeii. I tried not to feel like a tourist, but it was hard not to be excited by my first glimpses of these places which I had longed to visit.
We appeared to be heading closer to the coast. I thought about what I knew about the surrounding area, recalling that there were some islands very close to Naples: Capri and Ischia. Capri was a playground for the rich, while Ischia was a volcanic island famed for its thermal springs.
I prayed fervently that we weren’t going to one of the islands. My mind kept reminding me that escape from an island would be much more difficult than if we were on the mainland—on an island, the only way to escape would be via boat or plane.
As we drove, I saw signs for Sorrento, Amalfi, Ravello, and Positano, which meant that we were heading south of Naples. That, however, was as much as I could guess.
Over an hour later, we finally pulled up at the Marchiano villa. It was situated right on the coast, but thankfully, we were still on the mainland. My anxiety heightened again, however, when I realized that I could see no other properties nearby.
The smooth stucco of the villa was painted white. The house had terracotta roof tiles, while a black wrought-iron balcony wrapped around the house. There were lush plantings of hibiscus and bougainvillea everywhere, with the tumbling fuchsia flowers standing out against the white walls of the villa. But the most stunning thing was the gorgeous view of the Mediterranean Sea.
After we entered the villa, Alessio turned to me. “I’ll show you to my bedroom. We’ll use my usual room here.”
I trudged up the staircase and followed Alessio into a bedroom that was flooded with sunlight. It had pale walls and a tiled floor, which felt cool against my bare feet.
There were doors leading to a balcony that had black, wrought-iron railings and stylish planters containing bright, exotic flowers. The balcony had a jaw-dropping view of the cerulean sea, as well as a view over the pool and garden. The room itself contained an ornate bed made up with white bedlinens and cushions. This place would make a perfect vacation spot—that is if we weren’t actually on the run from the FBI.
I felt gritty, and I needed to brush my teeth. “I need to take a shower and I need clean clothes. I’ve got no clothes here—what am I supposed to do?” I huffed.
“I always leave some clothes here. Here, take one of my t-shirts. That will do until I sort something out for you. While you shower, I’ll go down and make us some breakfast.”
The bathroom was a dream in marble. I let the hot water soothe my exhausted body and could have fallen asleep on my feet. After a long while, I turned the water off, wrapped a soft white towel around myself, and headed back into the bedroom. The white drapes fluttered around the open balcony door, and I could see Alessio sitting on the balcony with a tray of food and coffee on top of the outdoor table.
“You should eat something, cara. You didn’t eat anything at all during the flight,” he said, indicating toward the food.
“No, I’m too tired to eat,” I said. I went and stood in front of the dresser and brushed out my wet hair.
He took the hairbrush out of my hands and pushed down on my shoulders to make me sit on the chair. I wondered what he was doing, but I was too tired to argue.
He started to brush my hair for me. The strokes were rhythmic and relaxing, and I gave in to the soothing sensation. When he had finished, he put the brush down on top of the dresser. “You’re dead on your feet, cara. Here, have something to eat before you take a rest.”
“No, I don’t want anything.” I walked over to the bed and tumbled between the covers. It felt so welcoming to my tired body. The pillows were the softest feathers, and the sheets were the smoothest cotton. I felt myself falling asleep straight away.
As I drifted off, I sensed Alessio caressing my hair. And I fell asleep thinking that his touch felt good.
CHAPTER 23