FORTY-SEVEN |

through the crowd, coming towards me, and by the time I looked back at Viktor he was gone. I searched for him in the seconds it took my friend to reach me, but he was long gone, vanished into the throng of bodies that danced around the room.

"Everything okay?" I asked Amber nervously. She looked more than a little flustered and had left Francesco standing alone on the dance floor.

Before she even spoke, Amber grabbed a flute of champagne off a nearby tray and threw it back in one gulp. "Do you want to get out of here?" she asked.

"Why?" I searched her face for a clue, trying to work out what she had heard. My stomach twisted as I realised that whatever it was, it must have been bad. "What do you know?"

"I think we should just get out of here, go to a bar some place on our own where we can talk."

"Amber," I insisted, but she shook her head.

"Please trust me, Florence."

I sighed. "How exactly do you propose we go somewhere else? We're in the middle of a huge estate, neither of us is sober enough to drive and even if we were, we don't have a car."

"We could call a taxi?"

"You can't honestly think a taxi will come pick us up from the middle of a mafia-owned estate." I folded my arms, but Amber wasn't fazed. She pulled them apart and grabbed my hand, leading me through the house. "Where are we going?"

"Outside," she said over her shoulder. "Somewhere quiet where I can use my phone."

"This is ridiculous," I complained, but I kept following anyway.

Security surrounding the estate was already high when we arrived here, but now it would be even more so due to the celebrations. Surely there was no way a taxi would actually agree to pick us up, and even if it did, how would it get in?

Once outside, we stood on the gravel driveway as Amber began googling taxi company phone numbers. She found one and dialled, asking to be picked up as soon as possible. I expected the person on the phone to politely decline, but a minute later the call ended successfully. "It's on the way."

"It will never get here."

"Why not?"

"Because Arturo would never let me just waltz out of this place."

"Arturo isn't guarding the gate," Amber pointed out. "He doesn't know this taxi is coming for us – it could be picking up any of the guests to take them home."

"He'll stop us before we leave. Besides, why the rush? Why can't we just talk here?"

The night was cooling off and I could hear crickets singing distantly. I didn't particularly want to go somewhere else, especially somewhere I didn't know. It was simply asking for trouble.

"I don't want to cause a scene, and I want you to have time to think about what I'm going to tell you away from all of...this." As she spoke, Amber looked to our right where a couple of drunk men were throwing knives into a nearby tree, comparing their techniques competitively.

I took a deep breath. "You're scaring me."

"It'll be fine. Let's just find a cute bar somewhere, order a few cocktails, and then we can talk."

The taxi pulled up a few minutes later, its headlights making me feel like a rabbit. Impending doom washed over me. "Arturo likes Cecelia, doesn't he?" I panicked.

"No, nothing like that. There's something I should have told you a while ago, well, I tried to tell you a while ago but you didn't want to hear it. Come on, the sooner you get in the taxi, the sooner you find out."

I climbed in beside her, still sceptical that we would even make it past the gates. Amber looked out of the window while I fiddled with my dress anxiously. My mind kept running through all the possibilities of what Amber might tell me. Maybe Arturo was having second thoughts about us, maybe he'd realised he preferred Cecelia after all. Maybe he'd confessed his undying love.

Amber requested that the driver take us to a cute bar near the coast and then the rest of the drive was in silence. Though we would probably look ridiculous in our ball gowns, that was the furthest thing from my mind. I was too busy panicking that my relationship might be coming to an end.

"For what it's worth, Arturo really loves you, Florence." Amber reached over and placed her hand on top of mine, giving me a small smile.

"Then why does it feel like you're about to tell me something contrary to that?"

The taxi slowed and Amber paid the fare, leaving my question hanging in the air. We climbed out clumsily in our heels and looked around.

We were on a street that ran parallel to the edge of a sheer cliff, with cute bars and restaurants all the way along. They had balconies that jutted out, giving a spectacular view of the now-setting sun.

Amber ordered a couple of cocktails at the bar of the closest establishment before leading me outside to a seat on the balcony. The view was beautiful, the sea a stunning bright blue against the orange of the sun, but I couldn't bring myself to stare at it. I couldn't focus on anything other than Amber. She pushed a cocktail in my direction but I ignored it.

"Tell me," I demanded.

Amber took a long sip of her drink before meeting my gaze. "Look, I just want to say, I did try to tell you this weeks ago."

"Acknowledged," I nodded.

"And I know that Arturo is serious about you, so I need to tell you this before you make any big decisions with him."

"Okay..."

"Okay. About a month ago, when you and Arturo were fighting after you got out of jail, something happened."

I recalled the night I spent at Marco's, when he had protected me from Arturo. I had doubted his love for me, his intentions, and I had pushed him away. I took several large gulps of my cocktail, preparing myself for whatever Amber was about to tell me.

"Carry on," I urged, having finished off my drink.

"So I don't know exactly what is true and what isn't. A lot of it is hearsay, she said, he said type thing."

"Oh god."

"One of Arturo's bars is run by a guy called Renzo, he went there the night you two were apart. The two were drinking a lot, he was probably drowning his sorrows."

"He does tend to drink when he's pissed off." I nodded.

"Well, there's a girl who works there, she's called Leila. She was a new girl, and Renzo was showing her off. They invited her to drink with them."

I felt my throat close up with panic, hands shaking beneath the table. I took a breath and forced myself to calm down. I hadn't heard the full story yet.

"They played pool for a while before Arturo left the bar, deciding to go home."

"That's good," I said, reassured.

"But he had to go back."

Well, fuck. I could see where this story was heading, I'd have to be stupid not to. I ground my teeth.

"Renzo had given Leila something, some kind of drug. She was out of it and so was he. He must have given her too much of whatever it was because collapsed at the bar. Renzo wouldn't deal with her, so Arturo had to."

I sincerely wished I had another drink to throw down my throat. "Who told you this?"

Amber bit her lip. "Well, this is where it gets complicated. I asked multiple people when I first heard, obviously I wanted to get the story right before I told you. Leila says she doesn't remember too well what happened. She remembers throwing up into his toilet, but after that everything is hazy. She says she doesn't think he stayed with her, she woke up in his bed alone."

"She woke up in his bed." I tried the words out, feeling sick. I tried to picture it, another girl in the same bed I had stayed in, Arturo slipping his shirt around her. It was like torture, but I couldn't stop.

"She says she thinks he went home once she'd finished throwing up. She's almost certain."

"But she doesn't remember."

"Not exactly, no."

I covered my mouth, taking a moment to catch my breath. It felt like I'd fallen down the stairs and one had hit me in the back, the pain in my chest was so sharp.

"And what are other people saying?" Dare I ask.

"You know what people are like, especially the women who work for Arturo. Stuck at work all the time, never leaving, they like to talk. They exaggerate, make things up."

"What are they saying?" I demanded.

"When I first heard about this, one of the women told me they had slept together."

"As in..."

"Had sex." She said this quietly, looking down. "But it's only a rumour. Leila herself said–"

"Florence, Amber."

To our left stood Cecelia. I felt my blood run cold instantly, one problem I could deal with but anything else was too much. She was too much. I put my head in my hands, needing to process the information I had been given.

"Now isn't a good time," Amber said flatly.

"It's a perfect time." Cecelia smiled, sliding in to the seat next to my own.

"Did you follow us here?"

"Look." Cecelia was holding two cocktails and she slid one in my direction. "Amber, I need to talk to Florence in private."

"Get in line, sweetie," she replied flatly.

"The thing is, this can't wait."

Clearly irritated, Amber stood up. "Look, doll, who in God's name do you think you are?"

Cecelia rolled her eyes. "I'm not your enemy, Amber, and I'm certainly not Florence's enemy. I just think she deserves to know the truth."

"Apparently everyone has decided that today," I griped, bringing my head out of my hands so I could drink the cocktail Cecelia had brought. If I was going to get through this, I needed more alcohol.

"There's a prepaid taxi outside waiting to take you back to the house," Cecelia said to Amber, who was still clearly fuming. "I suggest you get in it."

"I'm Florence's best friend," she retorted.

"And this still has nothing to do with you."

Both of them looked at me, hoping for a resolution. I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Is there no way you'll just speak to me while Amber is here?"

"If you want to know what I've got to say, she goes." Cecelia shrugged.

All of this made me want to break down and cry, or better yet scream. I wished Arturo was here to talk to, I wanted him to explain what was going on once and for all. Part of me wanted to believe Leila, after all, if anyone knew what happened it would be her. But she had been drugged, and why had Arturo kept this from me for so long if the encounter was as innocent as she proclaimed? I didn't want to believe it, but logically there was no explanation other than the fact that he had something to hide.

Hesitantly, I turned to Amber. "I wish you could stay, but..."

She nodded. "I know. I'll go. But you call me if you need me, honey, no matter what, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Amber."

As Amber walked away, it felt like my sanity left with her. I finished off my drink and stood. "I'm getting another one of these before you tell me anything. You want one?"

Cecelia shook her head and I left her sitting at the table. At the bar, I ordered another drink while holding back tears. Alcohol and emotions generally didn't mix well for me, and I knew things were only going to get worse.

The bartender slid a brightly coloured drink in my direction with a paper umbrella sticking out of the top. I reached for my purse but a hand reached out to touch my arm, "Lo comprenderò."

(I'll get it)

It was a man who looked to be in his early thirties, with dark, cold eyes. His grip on my wrist was a little tight, he squeezed and then let go.

"There's no need," I said in English, trying to put him off, but he shook his head and handed a twenty euro bill to the man behind the bar.

"Keep the change. Nice dress by the way," he said with a thick accent.

"Thank you," I replied curtly, hoping that would be the end of the exchange. Everything was beginning to catch up to me, I could feel panic rising in my throat as his eyes burned into my side. I needed some space, somewhere to breathe, someplace quiet. "Excuse me."

Tears were blinding my eyes, I could barely see as I darted towards the only safe space I could think of: the bathroom. It was located towards the back of the bar and thankfully it was empty. As soon as I got inside I entered a stall and locked the door.

When I closed my eyes, everything was spinning. I pulled my phone out and tried to call Arturo but it went straight to voicemail. I missed his voice, his reassurance, his arms around me.

"Arturo," I whispered, deciding to leave a voicemail. I clenched my teeth and closed my eyes, willing tears away. "Arturo I really need you. Amber told me something and I don't want to believe it, but I don't know what I should believe, and–"

I pulled the phone away from my face and listened back to the message. He would probably hear that I was trying to hold back tears and he would panic. He'd send people out looking for me, probably an armed search party, exactly the kind of scene I didn't want to cause on Dina's birthday. Then again, he probably wouldn't even listen to it. He'd be too busy with Cecelia and all the other guests, and besides, I was feeling selfish. I hit send.

Time to get this over with.

I picked my drink up from the bar and stumbled back out on to the balcony, sitting opposite Cecelia. She was waiting patiently, the picture of serenity.

"What's all of this about?" I demanded.

"I asked Arturo to tell you, but I see he still hasn't, has he?"

"Tell me what?"

"Has he ever explained to you who I am?"

I recalled the countless times I had asked Arturo about Cecelia, whether she was a threat. He had always replied with the same thing. "You're an old family friend."

"I am," she nodded. "But there's more to it than that."

I took a large sip of my cocktail, preparing to hear what I had always feared. All of my tears had dried up now, they were replaced instead with anger.

"Growing up, Arturo and I were close friends," Cecelia began explaining. "Best friends, even. My family, they were powerful, and Gio admired that. He wanted an alliance he could trust, and he thought he could have that with the Riccis. So, he proposed an engagement."

I suddenly forgot how to breathe. "You and Arturo were engaged."

Cecelia looked down. It was clear she didn't take any joy from revealing this, in fact she looked pained. "Yes."

"Were you ever married?" I swallowed back the lump in my throat, preparing for the worst.

"No."

"Oh god." I threw back the rest of my drink as my vision span in and out of focus. I wasn't sure it was from my inebriated state or the fact I was in shock. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"I don't know, Florence. I'd like to think he would have eventually, but you deserved to know now, not two months down the line."

"I...I need some time alone."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea right now."

"Get out," I snapped, "leave me! Go."

I didn't wait to see if she would listen to me, I didn't care. I left the table and didn't look back.