Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
I spend half the day training, dancing across the large, wooden penthouse floor and practicing old routines to keep my skills up and my muscle memory limber. Wine in hand, I spend the afternoon contemplating Vincent while gazing upon the cityscape. At night, I want to dream about the last kiss we shared and how Vincent’s touch felt so passionately uncontrolled. Instead of drifting into a dream, I am abruptly awoken by a loud noise. I get out of bed and walk quietly toward the hall. Something outside the penthouse hallway repeatedly causes a loud thud against the exterior wall. Then there’s the sound of gunshots.
When the door flies open, I freeze in fear.
Marco stumbles inside the penthouse, holding his shoulder with one hand to stop the blood that is seeping out. He slams the door shut behind him and I can hear the ongoing noise of fighting in the hall.
“Oh my god, Marco, what is happening? Are you alright?” I run toward him.
He puts up his hand and points toward the opposite hall that leads towards the library inside the penthouse. “Go! There’s a panic room behind the bookshelf. Pull the Shakespearean Anthology out from the shelf, the green binding. Stay inside the panic room and don’t come out, no matter what you hear.”
I reach down to help him and bring him with me, but he shakes his head as he turns toward the door and draws his gun. “Isla, go, now!”
Without any further hesitation, I turn and run down the hall. My fingers fumble over the book’s bindings as I search for the green binding. Upon finding it, I hear the penthouse door crash open once more, signaling the start of a fight. I pull the book, and the wall slides open, revealing a hidden panic room inside. Quickly, I step inside and seal the door behind me.
Once I’m safely hidden, I realize that there is no way out of here. With the door closed, there is no handle, no way to open this room from the inside. This room offers safety, yet its darkness feels like a tomb. When I hear screaming, one of which sounds like it comes from the nice maid who sometimes stops by overnight to prepare things for the next day, I cover my mouth with my hand. Whoever is out there is likely getting killed, and I have no idea by whom. I suppose the possibilities are endless, considering that mafia families have many enemies. It could be rival mafia gangs. Or the cops engaged in a sting, or maybe even more men betraying Vincent from the inside, just like the one he claimed betrayed him at the theatre.
For the first time, I feel the very real possibility of my imminent death. I realize, too late, that the thrill and forbidden allure led me into deep trouble. Perhaps I should have gone with that police officer or informed Madame Durant at the gala of my imprisonment and desire to leave. It’s all too late now, though. I’m stuck inside a sealed room waiting to see who will open the door to let me out and hoping that whoever it is won’t kill me on the spot.
I sit in perfect silence, surrounded by the dark stillness, and wait.
Following gunfire, shouting, and fighting, a tense pause precedes, then the panic room door slowly opens. I can feel my heart beating at the base of my throat as I fear what might happen to me next. But then, I see Vincent. His silhouette is unmistakable, though details blur after minutes in dim light. He doesn’t speak; he just stands there in the open doorway, staring at me with visible relief to have found me alive. Instead of his usual full black suit, his jacket is off, and his white button-down shirt is soaked in blood. His shirt is partially untucked, his shirt from his black pants, the top few buttons undone, his sleeves pushed up to reveal arms full of intricate tattoos. Blood splatters Vincent’s face, covers his hands, and darkens his black pants where it has soaked through.
For a second, I wonder if he’s been hurt. Looking over his shoulder, I see bodies scattered around the floor. I understand that the blood on Vincent is from the men he killed to protect me. I reach for him, and he lifts me in his arms and carries me out of the panic room within his steady grasp.
Ignoring the metallic smell of the blood on his clothes, I bury my face against his chest, keeping one eye open to see the carnage all around us as we walk through the rest of the penthouse. All throughout the place, his men are already there, removing bodies and carrying pieces of broken furniture out the door. Marco’s among those hurt, yet most of Vincent’s crew remain alive. From Vincent’s embrace, I watch Alonzo and Luc work, oblivious to my presence.