Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
“Hello, my love.”
“Hi.” I climb out carefully. How the hell does this man look so in control when this is an out of control fucking situation?
He takes my hand. “Where is your bag?”
“In the trunk.”
Marly retrieves it for us and passes it over.
Enrico shakes his hand. “Thank you, Marly… for everything. You will be well promoted within Ferrara for your loyalty.” He turns to Lorenzo. “See to it that this happens this week.”
“Yes, sir,” Lorenzo replies with a nod. “Of course.”
Enrico leads me up the stairs of the plane, and I take one last look around.
“Olivia, time is of the essence,” Enrico reminds me.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Smith.” The captain smiles.
“Hello.” I’m quite sure that there is an unwritten rule somewhere to never lie to the pilot who is flying your plane.
Bad Karma or some shit.
I fake a smile as we pass him.
Don’t be alarmed. You’re just smuggling the mafia boss of Italy out of the country so that he can fake his own death. You won’t go to prison or anything if we all get caught.
This is safe, safe, completely safe.
Fuck…
I feel sick.
I make my way up the aisle. The plane is filled with white leather recliner chairs. I’ve been in it before, although it didn’t seem to have the same importance then.
Lorenzo takes a seat near the front, while Enrico and I sit in the middle.
Enrico leans over, straps me in, and then sits back, waiting for take-off.
Meanwhile, I’m perspiring.
The stewardess walks up the aisle. “Can I get you anything, Mr. Smith?” she asks.
“An amaretto and a mineral water with ice, please.”
“Of course, sir.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Jesus, don’t get drunk now,” I whisper under my breath.
Enrico smirks over at me and winks.
I’m so envious of his ability to keep his cool during stressful situations. How the hell is he so calm?
The stewardess brings us our drinks, and before long, the plane slowly travels down the runway.
I crane my neck to peer through the window. “I don’t see anyone.”
Enrico sits back and rests his head on the headrest. “They think I’m in Sicily.”
“Why would they think that?”
“Because when they get to my office, that’s what they will be told.” His sips the amber fluid in the glass.
“Oh.” I nod. “Right.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Good idea.”
Enrico takes my hand and kisses it. “Go to sleep, bella. You will need your energy later.”
Energy later?
I stare at him as my brain fires a million horrible scenarios my way. Running from police. Being tackled to the ground. Being beaten to a pulp. Being thrown in jail.
“Olivia,” he says firmly.
I put my head into my hands.
“Would you have preferred I faked my death and left you alone in Italy to grieve?”
“No.” I frown at the horrible thought of thinking he was dead. “God, no.”
“Then relax. We will be in Roma in eighty minutes, and then we are out. It’s under control.”
“If you say so.”
I peer back out through the window and put my head back into the headrest as the plane launches down the runway at high speed.
Life of crime, here I come.
We’re standing on the boat ramp by the ocean, just outside of Roma.
Just Lorenzo, Enrico, and me.
“You have the details?” Lorenzo asks.
“Yes,” Enrico replies. “We get this boat to Ponza. Once there, we pick up a car from this address.” He takes out a folded piece of paper and opens it. There’s an address written down. “It will be rigged with explosives to which I will detonate once we get on a deserted road, leaving us dead… apparently.”
Lorenzo passes over two syringes. “Don’t forget to take blood and put it in the car. We need DNA evidence you were both in it.”
“Of course.” Enrico takes the syringes and puts them into his suit pocket. “Then,” Enrico continues, “I will pick up the car from the second location and drive to the runway on the other side of the island, where a plane with an American pilot will be waiting to pick us up.”
My eyes widen as I listen to the upcoming events.
Dear God.
I feel the blood drain from my face. This cannot be happening.
Lorenzo leans down and kisses my cheek. “Goodbye, Miss Olivia. I shall see you on your return.”
I put my arms around his neck and squeeze him tight. “I’m so grateful that you’re helping us.”
“It’s what family does.” He turns and takes Enrico into his arms. “I love you, my son. Be careful.”
“I love you, too. Thank you,” Enrico says into his shoulder.
We climb into a small boat that has a canopy over it. It’s nothing like what Enrico usually travels in, but of course, we’re trying to go unnoticed.
I sit down on the bench chair, while Enrico starts the little engine.
Lorenzo gives us a sad smile, and before we can decide against it, we head off into the ocean.