For the second time in recent days, Rome woke up feeling like he’d been beaten over the head. His mouth was dry, and his muscles were sore. At least this time, he could move a lot more quickly. He had a feeling that second shot wasn’t quite as potent as the first.
He opened his eyes to a twilight lit room, but it wasn’t the one he’d been in just before he was knocked out. He recognized it, though. It was his room in their apartment in Milan. The last time he was here, he couldn’t have been more than twelve years old. He sat up and looked
“This is the right building,” Bart said, finding a parking spot on the street. “But I have no idea how we’re going to figure out which apartment is Rome’s or how we’ll get to him.”Ella got out of the car, only half listening to him. She was feeling out with her heart, trying to find her other half. Something was wrong; she could feel it in her blood. With every beat of her heart, anxiety pulsed through her veins, into her limbs, seeming to pool in her stomach which was tight with worry.
The knife was in his hand, poised above his wrist as Rome considered what his mother would think the next time she walked into this room and saw blood all over his bedspread, all over the floor, all over his dead body.He didn’t think it would hurt. With the pain radiating out of his heart with each breath as he thought about his beautiful wife, and how she was gone now, nothing could be more painful than that. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he made no effort to make them stop.
The car sped along the roadway, putting more and more distance between themselves and Rome’s parents. Ella was paying little attention, though. She couldn’t keep her hands, or her mouth, off of Rome.Her wig was on the floor, but with the dark tinting on the windows, she thought it would be fine, until they reached the hotel and she had to get out. Rome brushed his fingers through her hair and rubbed her cheek. “How did you fake your death?” he asked her.
The most beautiful woman in the world was back in his arms. It was surreal to Rome to think, only a few hours ago, he’d been convinced that Ella was dead, that he’d never run his fingers through these silky locks again, never kiss those honey lips or trail his hand across her soft skin.Making love to her now, after all they’d been through, was even better than it had been before, and he never would’ve thought that possible. The two of them had become one, and he’d relished each second, concentrating on feeling her with every fiber of his
One night. That’s all they’d had together. After being torn apart by their parents, Ella faking her own death, and Rome being drugged and taken overseas against his will, they’d spent one night together in a hotel in Italy before having to face the realization that they were still on the run, that Rome’s father was certain to have his men after them, and there was nothing they could do to guarantee their safety except for run as fast as they could and try to get lost in the nameless, faceless world Rome had never been a part of.The morning lig
Mary went to speak to someone at the counter about meeting Gia while Rome and Ella hung back. He could see the lobby well from their position, and there were a few muscular men in suits milling around. One had a newspaper in his hands which seemed odd to Rome because not many people actually read those anymore, did they? Maybe Rome was just being paranoid.A few minutes later, Mary headed back with a woman dressed in a hotel uniform black slacks, a black jacket, and a white button-down shirt. The brunette seemed nice enough, with a relaxed smile. Rome didn’t kno
The airport was crowded, and Bart couldn’t walk two steps without looking over his shoulder, afraid he was about to be snatched from the thoroughfare and carted away somewhere by giant thugs who were about to beat his ass.He had on a disguise that should’ve made him unrecognizable to anyone who’d followed him from the hotel, but he’d have to take it off before he went through security so that he would match the picture on his passport at least a little better than he did now. He’d gotten in the car looking like Rome and gotten out with r
From the back seat, it seemed as if something was bothering Rome, and Ella could only assume that it was the fact that he thought someone was following them.She couldn’t see the mirrors as well as he could and didn’t want to turn around and stare out the back of the car the way that he was, but she was nervous. What would happen if they got out of the car at the train station and Rome’s father’s men were there waiting for them? She could see herself throwing elbows and screaming, doing her best to get away from them, her red wig coming off. Pe