Chapter 5

I explain everything I can think of. Sometimes having to go back and forth in the timeline, as new bits of blurry memory come back.

“There have been several reports of a few ‘date rape’ drugs going around. Most are the normal type though. Lou is handling it. We will have Viola picked up.”

I nodded as my fucking boner started to finally go down. The doc gave me an injection of something to counteract the last of the drugs still in my system.

“So, you’re sure the woman had nothing to do with it?”

I nodded. “Still best to check her out though.”

“Already on it.” I knew Leo had contacted our people to find the woman as soon as I started talking.

Great start to my life back on the island.

I’d moved back after looking after shit all over the world, specifically in Berlin, California, Perth and New York before that.

I’d taken over my dad’s position within the business and do it with pride and perfection. No lose ends, no evidence.

No one was supposed to know I was back. I don’t know if Viola got lucky. Or it could have been a bigger operation and they got lucky and used her.

She has been desperate to be attached to someone within the family. Desperate to marry in and get all the spoils.

She would be getting some metal now, just not the kind she wanted.

“Found her. She asked security for a local hotel. They put her in one of the apartments across the road since they recognized she had come in with you.”

The doctor had just left as he got off the phone to security.

“They get an ID?”

“Yep. Running it now.”

Nodding, I sat back and asked about the issues with the gun distribution while we waited. Leo had food delivered, saying I needed to eat. Italian through and through. Always eating.

I was feeling almost back to normal, fucking boner had finally gone.

I’ve tried a lot of shit in the past, but nothing has kicked me into horny dog mode like that before. Blacked out, hallucinated, got buzzed, wanted to kill everyone that looked at me sideways, but never wanted to fuck until my dick fell off.

Fifteen minutes later, both our phones lit up at the same time.

Ada Rose Franklin. Thirty-one. Australian from Melbourne. Been on the island for only a day and checked into a hotel with a man. Paul Volkov who is all over her social media and as she is his. Turns out this was their one-year anniversary holiday.

I ignored the anger that bubbled through my veins.

“Trouble in paradise.” Leo laughed, but all I did was glare at him before continuing to look at the rest of the information on her background.

Nearly two hours later, our phones went off again. I ignored mine as I continued on my laptop, but Leo checked his. “What the fuck is she doing?”

My head snapped up. “What?”

“Look at your phone.” Yet, he still showed me the video he just received as I grabbed mine. All you could see was a head barely out of the water, the ocean in the background and some items up on the sand in front.

Since Leo married his wife, we teased him about becoming soft. The fact that this woman was Australian, like his wife, meant he would probably be more inclined to believe she was innocent… unlike me.

“As soon as her head disappears under those waves, get her. I’m on my way.” He barked into his phone, glaring at me.

I sat back. “Why the fuck you looking at me like that?”

He didn’t answer as he stormed out.

I watched the video again on my phone while drinking more water.

She was probably remorseful now that she sobered up. She was still a slut though, another Viola and the rest of them.

Let’s see what her excuse is.

Ada POV

The fucking cheat wouldn’t fucking let up calling my phone.

I woke up again and looked at the time. 9.32…

I decided to go and pay reception and head off to find some food and pain relief tables. But first, I had a date with the porcelain bowl to remove all the water, left over wine and my soul.

After, I had a good hot shower and scrubbed myself before remembering… yep... No clean clothes… so back into the same dress and underwear from last night…

Ewww… I could have cried at that alone.

Cried… ha!

I was so dehydrated and hung-over I think I forgot to cry again. Yep… doing well. SO completely and utterly well. Fine. On top of the fucking world.

So yeah… Rage stage.

Raging about the hangover. Raging at how I was walking like a cowboy thanks to last night, and then the pure rage, of all rages, at the cheating fuck face ex.

I’ll probably have the angry tears shortly instead.

Reception was lovely and didn’t charge me much at all! They also offered me to stay at a excellent rate, so I booked for another night.

I will stay and get over my hangover and then fly out tomorrow. Where to… will work that out later.

They pointed me in the right direction of where to get breakfast and to find a taxi to get back to fuck faces hotel to get my stuff. I didn’t tell them that though, just said I had to collect my items from my ex’s hotel room.

I then force-fed myself some breakfast. They were so used to hangover tourists that they gave me great recommendations for food and a smoothie they promised would do the trick.

Thankfully, they were spot on.

Not sure what magical ingredients were in the smoothie or the food or if it’s just good clean food here, so it all just … works. But it did.

I paid and then just walked… putting off going back to fuck face’s hotel room, which was supposed to be my hotel room.

I ended up on the beach without thinking. Stripped down to my bra and panties, still without thinking, and walked into the water.

I felt dirty, all of a sudden.

I felt like a stupid idiot.

I felt lost. So, so lost.

The rage had gone and I almost missed it.

Sitting on the sandy bottom in the water. The salty sea up to my neck with the small waves just touching my chin. My arms up in front of me flowing with the water giving them a sense of weightlessness.

I fucked up.

I shouldn’t have slept with the hotty.

Well, the situation was already fucked up, but I made it worse. Why did I have to make it worse?

My core still ached with the activities of the night. I’m pretty sure there was going to be an out-of-order sign posted down there for the next month.

The clip of the otter rubbing up against the pole in that video with ‘I’m a nasty girl.’ Came into my mind and I smirked but then sighed again.

Being an otter would be so much easier right now.

I needed a plan. Something that would be so easy to do with my brain struggling to keep up with all the thoughts going through it while still only firing at half pace... if it was even that.

Thankfully, Paul and I hadn’t moved in together and were only talking about it. So, I just needed to change my flights, change the locks and throw all of his stuff into a box for him to collect.

Or should I just throw them out?

Also, we were supposed to be here for another few days before going to Rome, then Venice. Should I change my flights and just dip into my savings and continue my holiday somewhere else instead?

Use it as a distraction to help mend my broken heart… I am already here...