Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Louve hunt

Santino Ricci's point of view

The black leather of my armchair creaks under my weight while I straighten up suddenly. The room is immersed in a dim light, only the bluish gleams of the surveillance screens cut out the tense faces of the technicians gathered in front of me. They are afraid. And they are right. 

- SO ? I asked in a cold, chilling voice. Where is it? 

A heavy silence, heavy like lead, replied. Then a man with a relaxed skull, thick glasses on his nose, scraped his throat. 

- Mr. Ricci ... We were able to follow Mademoiselle Alaya from the East district, just after her escape. She was spotted by a municipal camera at 5:16 p.m. ... She was walking quickly, barefoot, and still wore her white dress. She turned in an alley then ... 

He stopped. My fingers strut nervously on the armrest. I feel anger boil in my veins. 

-Continue, I ordered dry tone. 

- ... then she disappeared from the field of cameras. The area is partially covered. It is believed that she entered an abandoned building in the Faubourg district ... but it did not come out. Or at least not by the exit that was monitored. 

I get up slowly. Silence is more oppressive. 

- Do you think? Are you paid to think now? My voice explodes. I pay you fortunes so that you give me results, not vague assumptions! 

I hit the table with the dish with my hand. Everyone jumps. 

- This girl ... She's mine. She should never have left this room. Do you realize what it involves? 

Another, younger technician rushed, hoping to calm my anger. 

- Mr. Ricci, we have synchronized the facial recognition systems of the police with the cameras of the whole city. The software is programmed to detect Alaya's face as soon as it appears, in any public place. As soon as she enters a station, a bus station, a pharmacy, even a supermarket ... We will locate her. 

I turn away slightly, fixes the huge map of the city projected on the screen. Each sector, each artery, each exit point is monitored. She cannot escape. Not this city. Not my grip. 

-Well ..., I said, in a voice again calm but always vibrant with tension. Use all the necessary resources. If you have to hack private satellites, do it. Call men to Verona, Florence and Milan. Circulate your photo. And put a bonus on his head. 

I turn around, looking at them one by one. 

- She's not far away. I want to be warned as soon as she breathes out of the shade. And if only one of you makes me lose a minute for another minute ... I swear you will no longer breathe. 

They all agree quickly, pale. 

I leave the surveillance room, my jaw, tight fists. Alaya’s thought haunts me. This challenge. This frail but indomitable body. And now she's there, believing herself free. She imagines that she can escape me. 

She is wrong. 

I am Santino Ricci. 

And what I want, I get it. Always. 

Alaya's point of view

I had my hands sweaty by crossing the glass door of the jewelry. The interior shone like a glass and gold palace. The kind of place I looked at from a distance, usual. The kind of place where I had never set foot other than in dreams. 

My eyes roamed the room, fascinated. Illuminated windows, sparkling necklaces, rings locked up under glass like queen treasures ... and above all, cameras. Dozens. Installed in each angle. My heart will be hugged. I had no choice. That was it, or wander again without eating anything, without knowing where to go, without a penny to take a bus. And then, these earrings ... 

I removed them slowly, as if they could break. I had worn them during marriage, and despite everything I had gone through, they had stayed there, hung on me, intact. The thieves of the alley had not paid attention to it. They had only seen the bag. They did not know that I still had one last card to play. 

I walked to the counter. A well -primed woman gave me a polite look, although a little suspicious. 

"Hello, Miss," she said in a professional tone. I can help you ? 

I placed the earrings on the counter, trying not to seem nervous. 

- I ... I would like to sell them. 

She took them carefully, as if she knew she was holding something precious. His eyes widen slightly by observing them under a small magnifying glass. 

- These pieces are sublime ... Have you had them for a long time? 

I shrugged my shoulders. 

- It was a ... family gift. 

Lie. But I couldn't say that it was a memory of my own forced marriage to the devil. 

She nodded, then patted her keyboard, launching research. Meanwhile, I let my gaze get lost again in the shop. Each corner of this place breathed luxury and success. I was wondering what my life would look like if I owned such a place. Maybe people would respect me. Maybe I could finally breathe without being afraid. Maybe I would be free. 

- Miss ? said the cashier, brutally bringing me to earth. 

I blinked, confused. 

- Yes ? 

- The buyout price that we can offer you is 4,500 euros. 

I dared not speak. My heart was beating hard. It was much more than the old lady had given me. Much more. I hadn't even planned to negotiate. What good? I just nodded. 

-Okay, I replied, my voice trembling. 

The woman gave me an intrigued look, without commenting. She walked away to prepare the payment. I stayed there, standing, in this jewelry store full of light and opulence, clearing my fists so as not to cry. I felt like I won a battle. Not war, no. But a battle. 

I breathed a long time. Maybe all hope was not yet lost.