FORTY-NINE |

car door handle as we sped along the winding Sicilian roads, my knuckles white and my vision red. Amber's voice kept playing in my head, the panic and fear. They were in an alley, she had said.

That was the first bad sign.

The next bad sign? The fact that the tracker on Florence's phone had just started moving.

"I told her to stay there!" I snarled, watching the red dot move across the map.

"They must be in some kind of a vehicle," Marco said, "they're moving too fast."

"Damn it!" I pulled out my phone and dialled Amber's number, hoping to god she picked up. Florence had been in the alley for a reason – had someone left her there, I wondered? What had they done to her? What if they had come back for her, to finish whatever job they had started?

The phone rang for two long, painful minutes. Nobody answered.

"Can we catch up to them?" I demanded.

Marco shrugged, his fists wrapped tightly around the wheel. "We can try. Most likely we'll catch them when they stop."

I bit down on my cheek, scrolling through my phone. Maybe if I phoned Florence she might pick up. Maybe Amber's phone had died. I clicked on her name and saw that Florence had tried to call me a couple of hours ago. She'd left me a voicemail and I hadn't even noticed.

"Arturo..." Florence's shaky voice came through the speakers of my phone. She sounded slow and hazy, confused, even. "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–"

The pain in her voice made my chest tighten. I pinched the bridge of my nose and forced out several deep breaths. I didn't know what Amber had told her, but I hoped to god it hadn't made her go and do something stupid.

All I wanted was for her to be safe. It was my fault that she wasn't.

"Boss." Marco's voice pulled my attention back into the car. "Wherever they are, they've stopped moving."

"How long until we get there?"

"Ten minutes."

"Make it five."

Marco nodded and stepped on the accelerator. Outside of the car it was beginning to get dark, meaning soon all sorts of petty criminals would come out to play.

The alcohol in my system churned every time we sped around a corner. I unfastened the top buttons of my shirt so that I could breathe; the air in the car was stifling.

"Uh, Art." Marco began to slow the car as we reached a residential area. "I think I know where they are."

He looked ahead and my eyes followed his. Before us was a huge white-fronted building that I recognised instantly as a hospital.

"Figlio di puttana."

(Son of a bitch)

We pulled into a space in the car park and the moment the vehicle was stationary I jumped out. Marco joined me a second later and handed me a pair of sunglasses. It was always best for people like us to keep a low profile in places like this.

At the front desk I asked for Florence but the woman refused to tell me where she was. Marco could tell I was getting increasingly irate, he placed a calming hand on my shoulder but it did little to relax me.

"Florence may not have been checked in yet," he said. "At least we know she's somewhere safe."

"Safe?" I snorted, "in this place?!" I banged my fists onto the desk and the receptionist jumped back. "I wouldn't let my worst enemy get medical treatment here. Have you seen the state of the building? And it isn't even private–"

"Arturo!" I was cut off by Amber's voice echoing down the hall. She was running towards us in her ball gown, heels clicking on the linoleum.

I grabbed her shoulders when she reached me and held her at arms length. "Where is she?"

"Um, she's just down the hall, a doctor is checking her over right now so no one can see her–"

"Cazzate." I let go of Amber and started walking in the direction she had pointed. Nobody could tell me not to see Florence.

(Bullshit)

"Signore!" The receptionist called out behind me but I paid her no heed. "Chiamerò sicurezza!"

(Sir! I will call security!)

"Prendila in culo da un ciuccio imbizzarrito!" I snapped over my shoulder.

(Take it in the ass from a runaway donkey)

When I reached the room where Florence was being treated I threw open the doors and froze when I saw her. She was laid out on a bed with all sorts of machines hooked up to her body, a heart rate monitor beeped beside her, and the worst part was that she wasn't awake.

"What's wrong with her?" I demanded of the bewildered doctor who had been checking her over. "Cosa c'è che non va in lei?" I clarified when he didn't reply.

He stood between myself and Florence holding out his arms as if to stop me. "Sir, she can't have visitors right now."

"Vai a quel paese." I pushed the doctor out of the way and stepped around him. "Tell me what is wrong with her."

(Go to hell)

From behind me I heard the door open as Marco stepped into the room. "Arturo," he said, grabbing my shoulder. I tried to shrug him off but he held on, looking to the doctor for answers.

The man held his hands out. "I cannot tell you what is wrong until I find out. To do that, I need to work in peace."

"Like hell I'm leaving her with–"

"Arturo," Marco interrupted calmly. "If you want Florence to get through this, let the doctor do his job. Come on."

With both my fists and my jaw clenched, I exited the room with Marco. There were some plastic chairs in a waiting room on the other side of the corridor where Amber was already sitting. She looked up when we entered the room, a sheepish expression on her face.

I sat down beside her and clasped my hands in my lap, taking a deep breath.

"Art, I've got something to tell you," she began slowly, eyes fixed on the floor.

"You've got a lot to tell me."

The room was quiet except for the ticking of a clock on the far wall and the sound of Amber chewing gum. "I'm sorry."

"Tell me what you told Florence," I said flatly.

"Uh..."

"She left me a voicemail."

"Right." Amber started fiddling with the material of her dress. "Well, I, um.."

"Spit it out." She was usually far more loquacious than this. Most of the time it was hard to get her to shut up.

"I heard a rumour while working in one of your establishments."

"A rumour," I repeated. I slid the loose tie off my neck and wrapped it around my knuckles, pulling it tight until I couldn't feel my fingers anymore. There was a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Part-rumour, part-truth, I think. You know, the women who work for you talk, Art."

"And what do they say?"

"Something happened between you and one of the girls."

Leila. I recalled the night Renzo and I had gone drinking together, the cocktail of god-knows-what he'd given her. Had she lied about what happened? Had someone else?

"And what happened between me and one of the girls, exactly?"

"She said, I mean, Leila said that she didn't think anything happened between you two. She just woke up in your bed after she took some bad drugs. But once some of the other girls heard that story, well, I'm sure you can imagine where their minds took it."

"And you believed them." I took a deep breath.

"No, not really. I mean, I didn't know what to believe. But Florence deserved to know what people were saying."

"So you brought her to some random bar in the middle of god knows where!" I snapped.

"This wasn't my fault." Amber folded her arms, glancing up at the clock. It was almost eleven at night.

I sighed. "Then whose fault was it, Amber?"

"You want someone to blame? Blame that damn blonde slut you dragged out of the middle of nowhere!"

Immediately I felt my body tense. So Cecelia had come good on her threat after all.

Amber was watching me closely with narrowed eyes. "You knew? What the hell is going on here?"

Marco stood up abruptly. "I'm going to get a coffee from the vending machine. Want anything?"

Amber and I both shook our heads and he departed, leaving us alone. A thick silence fell over the waiting room.

"Cecelia and I have a history. We were supposed to be engaged when we were younger, but we never liked each other romantically. She ran away so we couldn't marry."

Amber nodded. "That's what she told Florence."

"I assume so."

"You're an asshole, you know?" She smacked her gum loudly and I was taken back by her audacity. When Amber came to work for me I was doing her a favour, protecting her from an unsavoury life. Most of my women worshipped the ground I walked on. "What kind of a dick wad keeps something like that from their partner?"

"I was going to tell her."

"Really." Amber rolled her eyes.

"Why wouldn't I have told her? I never had any feelings for Cece and she never had any for me. I was waiting until Madre's birthday was over."

"And what about Leila?"

"You honestly think I would betray Florence like that?"

Amber looked down at her manicured hands and shook her head. "I guess not."

"I didn't tell her because there was nothing to tell. Renzo fed Leila some bullshit drugs, she threw up in my toilet and I put her to bed before going home."

Amber's eyes widened. "Oh. I think I fucked up."

"You don't say."

"I think..." She was quiet for a long, long minute. "I think something bad happened to Florence."

"Tell me."

Marco returned carrying three styrofoam cups despite our refusal of his offer and sat down to my left, handing them out. I took a sip and almost choked. "This tastes like shit."

"Sorry, don. Hospital coffee," he shrugged.

"Carry on," I directed Amber.

"I think Cecelia followed us to the bar. She turned up not long after I'd told Florence about Leila and demanded that I leave. I tried to stay but she wouldn't let me. Florence told me to go, too, but I wasn't going to leave her alone. I went to the nearest bar down the street and sat outside, I figured when Florence finally left I'd see her and we could get a cab together."

"Yet she wound up in an alley."

Amber began alternating between chewing on her lip and her gum. "I didn't see when she left the bar," she admitted. "I was distracted by some guy who started talking to me, I only looked away for a few seconds but she must have gone during that time. I started getting worried so I decided to go looking for her, and that's when I saw her..." Amber took a deep breath. "Arturo...she wasn't alone."

At those words I felt my whole body tense, the tie around my knuckles cutting off blood flow. "What do you mean," I ground out between clenched teeth.

"She was with a man. He was heavy-built with dark hair, at first I thought she'd chosen to leave with him but then I saw that she was stumbling, she could barely walk. He pushed her up against the wall, started kissing her. I felt like I was frozen. Then she collapsed on him, when she lost consciousness he must have lost his nerve and he ran. By the time I reached her he was long gone."

I sat still for a long time, barely breathing. It felt like if I moved a single muscle I would snap, it took every bit of concentration I had to keep my composure.

Finally, I managed to speak. "And he didn't...?"

I couldn't finish the sentence but Amber knew what I meant. She shook her head slowly. "I don't think so. I didn't see...that...anyway. I guess we'll find out."

Across the room, Florence's doctor was walking towards us.