THE ESCORT

NINE | DON OF THE THE 'NDRANGHETA

Elodie came awake slowly, as if waking from a long-lasting deep sleep.

Blinking rapidly, she groaned and shifted, wincing at the sharp bursts of pain from her lower jaw. All that did was make her aware of her split bottom lip, along with the blisters under her feet from running barefoot on the Marina.

The light that accosted her upon opening her eyes was brighter than she expected, a silver hue that glowered down upon her from somewhere high. She titled her head back and stared at it, waiting for the fixture to come into focus. A line of bulbs floating down from thin string-like wires had been programmed to hover a good twenty-five feet in the air, bathing the section of space she was in so she could just make out every detail.

The room had a gorgeous white and gray heavy colour scheme, and a uniquely designed curved half wall where the bed she was laying on was located. The black brick Tuscan style fireplace which had above it a large, flat LED TV had a touch of sophistication to the already stunning room. There was a sitting area in the corner, anchored by a beautiful Persian rug. In the center of the room, however, was a rain shower with clear glass panels on all sides. They weren't even frosted.

A breeze blew in through the opened double French doors that led onto the balcony to her left, cold skating across her bare skin causing her to shiver.

It was only then she realized she'd been stripped down to nothing but her bra and panties. The matching black lace set winked at her.

Elodie swore and pulled at her wrist, cursing when she almost dislocated her shoulders in the process. A quick glance showed her the thick metal securing her wrist to the wall above the bed. She tugged again furiously, hoping her shackles would give way.

It was hopeless.

"I see you're finally awake, Strega." That cold, emotionless voice, one that was fast becoming familiar even though they'd barely known each other for a few hours, came off somewhere to the left.

A second later, Angelo walked in through the French doors holding a whiskey glass. He took a deep swallow from his half-filled glass, eyes on her the entire time.

"You hit me with the butt of your gun." Elodie remembered what had happened at the marina after she'd leapt off the yatch in hopes of escaping him. She felt so foolish doing that now. She should have sent the video to Sonia instead of calling.

Angelo's expression darkened as he approached."That was me being merciful to you. I could have done a lot worse than that, but I was awfully in the mood to give you another chance."

Elodie frowned. She'd seen what he could do first hand, of course. So his threat didn't look so empty now. So, if he hadn't been in the mood to give her another chance, would he have thrown her back into the water and let her become fish food?

"I can see the cogs cranking in there," he said, circling a finger at the side of his head, and then crouched down across from her. "Should I help you out?"

Elodie eyed the bridge of his nose, calculated the distance between her feet and it, then came to the conclusion that it would be a waste of energy to try to kick him, so she refrained, conserving her energy for another time. "Do tell me," she said through gritted teeth. "But get these damned cuffs off me first."

Angelo clicked his tongue and shook his head as though he was talking to a toddler. "I like you where you are now, Strega. Your freedom can be earned, of course, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. We were discussing what happened on my yatch."

"You tortured a man while he was still breathing," Elodie accused, "couldn't you have just handed him over to the authorities? Cutting his flesh was barbaric."