The bodyguards were gone, no doubt following their boss as he stalked around this place—but that only made my job easier. I had three people to find instead of one. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been on a job this intense—except there was no money at the end of this, just heartbreak or victory. And both would come at a cost.

 

I checked the computer, hoping I could figure out where Maria was and make my way up—but it was switched off. Shit. I tried to boot it up, but it demanded a password and I abandoned the endeavor. I didn’t have time for this—I wanted Maria out of here before her father arrived, if I could, and that gave me about a quarter-hour before I wouldn’t have any choice in the matter.

 

A bunch of hallways led off the main entrance area; I dove down one, hurrying up the corridor. I wished I had my gun on me—I could guarantee that Alfonso and his goons would be armed and dangerous, and I would have to rely on my fists to get me through.

 

Nothing down the first corridor—I turned a corner, and heard voices at the other end. Men’s voice. I began to stalk my way down, my heart pounding so hard in my ears that it was hard to think straight; I was surprised that whoever it was couldn’t hear me as I made my way down the narrow hall. I crept as quietly as I could, trying to make out what was being said—but they were speaking softly, their voices urgent. I paused for a moment before I peered around the corner, trying to get my breathing in check, and then allowed myself to look.

 

Standing just outside one of the hotel’s rooms was the receptionist, and a man I assumed was a guest of the hotel; they both looked up as soon as I saw them. So much for my stealth approach.

 

“Everything okay?” The receptionist widened his eyes as soon as his gaze met mine.

 

I nodded. “Is he the last guest?”

 

“I think so. There’s a woman up on one of the higher floors, but she won’t answer her door.”

 

“Get him out.” I jerked my head towards the man, who looked bleary-eyed and baffled by the entire situation. “What floor did you say she was on?”

 

“I can’t remember.” The receptionist shrugged. “Ten, I think? Maybe eleven?”

 

“Thanks a bunch,” I growled sarcastically, and continued on around the labyrinthine passages of the hotel. I had stayed here so many times, but I’d never noticed how damn big the place was—maybe I’d been too drunk to take in the length of the corridors, the way they spider-webbed off each other to create a dizzying blueprint that I was having a hard time keeping straight in my head. I didn’t have time for this—not one moment of it. I needed to find Alfonso, and I needed to find him soon.

 

The entire hotel was eerily, totally silent—the place was usually bustling with people, staff and customers alike, but there wasn’t a sound in the entire place except for my breathing. I stalked around the corridors, taking my time, trying doors where I could to make sure that Alfonso hadn’t ducked inside one already. I wasn’t sure what I intended to do when I got hold of him—he would probably blow my brains out as soon as look at me, and I did my best not to think about that. I would deal with that hurdle when I came to it, and for the time being, I just needed to find him. I just needed to make sure he was nowhere near Maria.

 

Maria. She was somewhere here, likely oblivious to what was going on just a few floors beneath her. Maybe she was asleep, passed out so deeply after the stress of the day that she hadn’t heard the staff knocking on her door and trying to get her out—or maybe she had assumed that they had been sent by her father and refused to answer in case she might end up dragged back to that mansion that he’d kept her in all her life. My heart ached when I thought of her, and I wondered if she felt the same way about me.

 

I pulled out my phone, and checked the time—only ten minutes left. I was running out of time. I needed to reach out to her one more time, just on the off chance that she was awake, that I could get to her. I pulled her number up and called her once again—and this time, found the phone ringing. So, she hadn’t got it switched off—was that a good sign, or a bad one? Maybe she’d gone for it when Alfonso found her, but he’d kicked it away before she could make whatever call it was that she wanted. It was hard not to let my brain fill with terrifying possibilities when a man like Alfonso Condotierri was involved.

 

No answer. I hung up and angrily stuffed the phone into my pocket, feeling like an idiot. I hoped to God that she wasn’t ignoring my call because she was mad at me; if I found out that was the case, I would never forgive myself. Our last conversation had been hours ago, and I had a strong feeling that she wasn’t likely to have forgiven me in the time that had passed. I could imagine her, grinning to herself as she rejected my call, knowing that it would be driving me insane. Please, please, let her be okay. Don’t let Alfonso have got to her yet.

 

I made my way through the hotel, up to the top floor and back down again; I didn’t see Alfonso once, nor Maria. Good news, maybe? I was sure that Alfonso couldn’t have resisted rubbing her acquisition in my face—I wondered how long he’d lusted after her, when he’d started to work with Lucca, and when he’d decided that she would be part of the deal. The thought made me shudder, a horrible sensation inching up my throat as I considered the horror of it all.

 

She never had a choice in the matter, never even had the presence of one. I wanted to reach out to her, to promise her that I would never force her the way her father had and Alfonso wanted to. That not all the men in her life expected her to unquestionably obey everything they said. That she could be free, with me, if she gave me the chance to show her what it could be like. I wished I’d driven her anywhere but here, taken her halfway across the world with whatever money I had left and started a life with her there and then. I wished I could go back in time and take back my stupid fucking pride over the Stiches and our relationship. I wished I could rewind to the moment I saw Alfonso in that coffee shop and didn’t take the chance to get rid of him there and then.

 

I wanted to see her, at least one more time, so I could tell her that I would have done it all differently if I could. My feet carried me down the stairs, thumping hard on every step, as though I was punishing myself for being such an idiot. Now I knew what it felt like to regret—I had never had it overwhelm me this way before, tear me apart inside. There was still time for me to fix this, but it was running shorter and shorter with every passing second.

 

I found myself back at the entrance again, none the wiser as to where Maria was or where Alfonso might be pursuing her to. I leaned up against the desk, and put my head in my hands—any second now, D’Orazio and his men would arrive, and there would be nothing left for me to do except hope that I could find a way to get Maria out of here unscathed. I knew that was a long shot, considering I’d be one of three men fighting to do the same—and I’d be the only one without back-up.

 

Suddenly, I heard the hiss of doors to my left; I spun around instantly, pulse racing, and found myself staring at the last person I wanted to see—Alfonso Condotierri. He had just stepped into an elevator—and, as I lunged towards him, the doors slid shut. He cocked an eyebrow at me in an almost playful fashion as he disappeared behind the polished metal, as though he was challenging me. Just before the doors shut, I managed to make out the number of the floor he was going to—ten.

 

I was frozen to the spot for a moment before my instincts kicked in and I began to move. I went to lunge up the stairs, retracing my path towards the tenth floor—but before I could, the entrance burst open. I swiveled around again, my stomach dropping to my feet. But when I saw who was waiting for me, my jaw fell open.