Page 13

13

STEFI

I run.

I’m not proud of myself for bolting, and under normal circumstances, I would never abandon Charlie to a stranger at the door. If it had been anybody but Joao, I’d have dealt with the threat.

But I cannot face Joao. I just cannot. I cannot feast my eyes on his achingly familiar face. I don’t trust myself not to trace the scar on his lip with my fingertips. Every muscle in my body is tugging me toward him, and I have to resist.

“Oh. My. God,” Charlie exclaims. “You’re Stefi’s husband? The one she thought was dead?” I can hear animation and interest in her voice. No fear, none at all. My teenage ward thinks she’s in the middle of a rom-com. “Come on in.”

If she sounded afraid, I’d show myself to Joao, let him take me, and find a different way of escaping.

But she’s not.

And I know with complete, utter certainty that Joao would never hurt her to get to me.

That’s got to be good enough.

When I rented this apartment, I made sure there were two exits in case I needed to make a quick getaway. The fire escape is just to the left of my bedroom, and there’s a door in the apartment that leads straight to it. But if I try to get to it, Joao will see me.

So I’m going to have to do this the hard way.

Grabbing my backpack as quietly as I can, I sling it over my shoulder, open my bedroom window, step out on the ledge, and jump toward the fire escape.

For a harrowing minute, I think I’ve missed the railing. An image of me plummeting to my death pops into my mind before my fingers grip the cold iron step, and I pull myself up. I’ve never had a head for heights. During training exercises, Joao would swing around like he was Tarzan, and everyone else thought he was showing off. I was the only person who knew he was doing it to take the attention off my struggles.

I race down the fire escape as fast as I can, hoping Charlie’s buying me some time. There’s no one waiting for me at the base of the stairs. Joao came alone. Muttering a silent prayer of thanks under my breath, I race through the garbage-filled back alley, vault the fence that separates our building from its neighbor, and run toward the subway station at full speed.

Charlie hasn’t managed to distract Joao for long. I barely get to the corner before I hear his running footsteps behind me. “Stefi,” he shouts as he vaults the fence. “Wait.”

I double my speed, my heart pounding. How did he get to Paris? What did I reveal that led him to my door? What did I inadvertently give away? This is why I shouldn’t have talked to him this morning; this is my fault for being unable to resist him.

Idiot, idiot, idiot. You knew that forming attachments was dangerous, and you did it anyway. You knew talking to Joao was a mistake, but you couldn’t stay away. And now everything’s a disaster.

I’m never going to be able to go back to my apartment—it’s too risky. I’ve abandoned Charlie after promising her I wouldn’t. Joao’s not a fool. He’ll watch the building and put a tail on her. Even talking to her on a burner phone is risky.

I take the stairs to the underground train station at full speed. It’s a little after two, and the platform is almost empty. My heart sinks. I was hoping to lose Joao in the crowds, but that’s not possible.

Where can I go, where can I run? How do I get away?

And then fortune favors me. A train pulls into the station, and the doors open. It’s a piece of luck I don’t deserve, but I take it anyway and dart inside.

Joao skids to a stop on the platform and lurches toward me.

But he’s a second too late. The doors slide shut, and the train starts to pull out of the station.

Our gazes lock. My husband doesn’t look annoyed that I’ve managed to escape him. No, his eyes sparkle, and an admiring smile curves his lips. As I watch, he mimes holding a phone to his ear.

“Call me,” he mouths.

Then the train gathers speed, and he disappears from sight.

I should be ecstatic that I’ve eluded Joao’s grasp. I have a brief moment of elation, and then it deflates like a balloon.

I’ve forgotten how good Joao is. Unlike me, he’s not working alone. He is backed by the Venice Mafia, a powerful and well-connected organization. Even outside Venice, he’ll have the kind of operational support that I can’t get. Access to information, phone records, and security cameras.

A shiver of fear trickles down my spine. This was too close, and it’s only going to get harder from this point on.

Joao lives for the chase, and I’ve grown sloppy.

If I want to survive this hunt, I need to up my game.