For the last week, Arcangelo had been doing nothing more than meeting with various Mafia bosses, attending various functions, and dealing with all the calls from Vincent. He hardly slept 3 hours every night and he was completely drained. His head hurt, he felt lethargic and he wanted nothing more than to sleep. However, that wasn't a possibility, given the fact that it was his last few hours, and before leaving he had to go to a brunch with Gambino before he would be heading off to the airport.

The sound of her alarm had Rosalie shuffle around her bed before reaching out in search of the device, her fingers fumbling over empty space until warmth enveloped her palm. Peeling open her eyes, her vision cleared as she noticed another hand swipe off the sound. A soft chuckle escaped her as she turned onto her back and glanced to her side, smiling up at Arcangelo who lay awake beside her, his head propped up as he stared at her with pure gentleness.

For an early March morning, it was quite sunny. The sky was a clear blue with fluffy white clouds dotting the canvas. Despite the deceptive look of the weather, it was cold. Arcangelo's breath fogged up as he watched the guards take out his bags from the back of the car and into the estate, which was proof of the chill looming.

Rosalie found herself gagged and bound to a chair. Her dress torn and ripped as the ropes dug into her skin, bound her to the wooden structure. The room she was held in smelt like mold and the air was stale like the fresh air hadn't been inside for years. The interior was dark and dingy with a single light overhead.

Arcangelo sat slumped on the sofa, rubbing his forehead to try and alleviate the headache pounding against his skull as he muttered incoherently under his breath. He jumped in surprise when something cold touched his hand, glancing up, he offered Vincent a weak smile as he took the glass of scotch offered to him.