Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 157450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
At that moment Mrs. Beckstrom, who lives in the neighboring flat, opens her front door, holding Heracles, her yappy lapdog.
“Hello, Maxim,” she calls.
Bless you, Mrs. Beckstrom.
“Very well, Mr. Trev…Trev.” He can’t pronounce my name.
It’s Lord Trevethick to you, fucker!
“We shall be back with a warrant.” He turns on his heel, jerks his head at his colleague, and they brush past Mrs. Beckstrom on their way toward the stairs. She glares at them, then smiles at me.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. B.,” I say with a wave, and close the door.
How the hell did those thugs find out that Alessia was here? Why are they chasing her? What has she done? There’s no “immigration” department. It’s called Border Force and has been for years. I take a deep breath in an effort to damp down my anxiety and head back into the darkroom, where I suspect Alessia will be trembling in a corner.
She’s not there.
She’s not in the kitchen.
My concern mushrooms into full-scale panic as I race through the flat calling her name. She’s not in the bedrooms or the drawing room. Finally I search the scullery. The fire-escape door is ajar, and her coat and boots are missing.
Alessia has fled.
Chapter Nine
Alessia flies down the fire escape, her heart racing as adrenaline and fear fuel her body. Once she reaches the bottom, she’s in the side alley. She should be safe here. The gate to the street at the rear of the building is locked from the inside. But to be sure, she ducks between two of the dumpsters, where the residents of Mister Maxim’s block dispose of their trash. She leans against the brick wall and drags air into her lungs, trying to catch her breath.
How have they found her? How?
She had recognized Dante’s voice immediately, and all her suppressed memories had surfaced in a terrifying rush.
The dark.
The smell.
The fear.
The cold.
The smell. Ugh. The smell.
Tears well in her eyes, and she tries to blink them away. She has led them to him! She knows how ruthless they are and what they are capable of doing. She lets out a loud sob and puts her fist in her mouth as she cowers on the cold ground.
He could be hurt.
No.
She has to check. She can’t flee if he’s hurt.
Think, Alessia. Think.
The only person who knows she is here is Magda.
Magda!
No. Did they find Magda and Michal?
What have they done to them?
Magda.
Michal.
Mister…Maxim.
Her breath comes in short, sharp bursts as panic closes her throat. She thinks she’s going to faint, but suddenly her stomach roils, bile rises in her throat, and before she knows it, she’s doubled over and vomiting her breakfast onto the ground. As she retches and retches, she splays her hands on the brick wall until there’s nothing left in her stomach. The physical effort of throwing up leaves her wrung out but a little calmer. Wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, she stands, feeling dizzy, and peeks into the alley to see if anyone has heard her. She’s still alone.
Thank God.
Think, Alessia, think.
The first thing she has to do is check that the Mister is okay. Taking a deep breath, she leaves her refuge between the dumpsters and makes her way back up the fire escape. She moves cautiously as a sense of self-preservation kicks in. She needs to know the coast is clear, but she cannot be seen by them. It’s six stories high, so by the time she reaches the fifth story, she’s winded. She inches her way up the next staircase and peeps through the metal railings into the penthouse apartment. The laundry door is closed, but she can see into the living room. There’s no sign of life at first, but then, all of a sudden, the Mister barges into the living room, and she can tell he’s fetching something from his desk. He’s there for a moment before he bolts back out of the room.
Her body slumps against the metal balustrade. He’s safe.
Thank God.
With her curiosity appeased and her conscience reassured, she staggers back down the fire escape, knowing she has to check that Magda and Michal are okay.
At ground level in the alley once more, she changes into her boots and makes her way to the gate at the rear entrance of the apartment block. It opens onto the backstreet, not onto Chelsea Embankment. She pauses for a moment. Perhaps Dante and Ylli will be there waiting for her? They will be out front, surely? With her heart beating a frantic tempo, she opens the gate and peers into the street. The only sign of life is a dark green sports car speeding to the end of the road; there’s no sign of Dante and his sidekick, Ylli. Taking her woolly hat out of her bag, she tugs it on, tucks her hair inside, and sets off for the bus stop.