Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
I wait another ten minutes until I’m sure that Frankie is passed out. His arm rests above my chest in a tender embrace. I ease my way out slowly, lowering his elbow to the pillow beside me. Another moment and I’m free, standing naked beside the bed. I hunt for my dress and find it balled up on the floor. It takes me no time at all to tug the clothing down over my head and arrange it comfortably. I locate my underwear but decide to ignore my shoes. Walking barefoot will be quieter, and I’m not planning on leaving the house. If something goes wrong and I have to abandon the footwear, that won’t be the biggest of my problems.
I escape into the hall where the lights are dim. There’s a little bit of moonlight coming in through a window at the very end. It paints nine white squares across the carpet. I hurry to the top of the stairs, straining my ears to pick up any sounds of life.
There is a humming coming from somewhere close by. I assume it’s part of the heating or cooling system within the house. I pause at the top of the stairs, waiting to discover anything else. I think I can hear voices, but they sound far away and very soft. Maybe it’s someone outside, maybe a guard or something patrolling the grounds.
That idea is a bit alarming. I’m sure there are guards because there were a number of cars outside. There’s also the gate we passed on the way through that proves this is some kind of fortress. I’ll be lucky if I can make it out to the street on foot, though hopefully it won’t come to that. I promise myself that if I don’t find anything actionable within a half hour, I’ll sneak back into Frankie’s room and go to sleep.
In the meantime, I have work to do.
I hug the wall as I descend the staircase, aware that there might be creaking sounds in the middle of the treads. I hit one particular board and wince as the sound ricochets throughout the staircase. At this rate, I’m not going to get very far before I’m found out. If those voices are coming from anywhere inside the building, that means someone else is awake.
I hold my breath, continuing my descent until I’m standing on the first floor. To my left, the living room is open. There’s only a small section of a wall separating me from the couches and the television. By now, I can see the blue light from the TV splashing across the room. I lower myself to my knees to avoid being spotted. I can’t tell how many people are up, but there are no other lights, so I’m guessing it’s a small party.
“So, what did you think of Frankie’s girlfriend?” a voice says. I search my memory banks for a match and finally realize that it belongs to Frankie’s uncle Gio. The man looks exactly like all the hitmen from the movies. I don’t trust him any further than I could throw him, and that’s saying a lot. I would break my back just trying to pick him up, much less launch him across the room.
“I like her,” another voice declares. That one is easy to identify—it’s Frankie’s father, Francisco Corello, the head of the family.
I’m glad to hear that he likes me, because that will make my job easier. I’m also glad to hear them talking as if there are no eavesdroppers. That means I didn’t give myself away even with the creaky step.
I’m not sure how to get past the living room without announcing my presence, so I stay where I am for another long moment. The two men continue talking, completely unaware of my presence.
“I hope it works out,” Gio says. “That kid deserves some happiness.”
“I noticed you made up an excuse to join us,” Francisco jokes.
“I had to,” Gio replies. “Did you think I was going to miss the opportunity to meet her?”
“Of course not,” Francisco agrees. “But let’s not overwhelm her right at the beginning.”
“She’s upstairs with our boy,” Gio observes.
“I know,” Francisco responds. “Don’t give him a hard time in the morning.”
“Why not?” Gio wonders.
“He’ll never bring another woman home again if we make a big deal out of it,” Francisco explains.
I can’t believe I’m witnessing such a normal conversation. They sound like two older men discussing a younger relative, which is exactly what they are. The problem is that I know there’s so much more to their family than love and respect. They are killers, and I’m determined to unmask them.
I move stealthily toward the kitchen, holding my breath until I’ve put another wall between me and my enemies. I’m crawling on all-fours, convinced that if I stand up, I’ll be discovered. Luckily, there’s no one in the kitchen, giving me a straight shot toward the back hallway.