Page 26 of The Kiss that Captured a Billionaire (Heart & Soul #2)

Eighteen

Rose woke to the sound of shouting.

Not the distant, muffled kind from a neighbor’s apartment. This was close—just outside the bedroom door.

Her lashes parted the tiniest fraction, letting in a slice of pale daylight. The room was… disarmingly normal—modern, clean, and even tasteful, with pale cream walls, a low-slung oak bed frame, matching nightstands, and a sleek dresser.

A wide window framed by gauzy white curtains let in soft, late afternoon light. The faint scent of dried flowers hung in the air, as if someone had actually tried to make this place pleasant.

No bars. No guards. No restraints.

That unsettled her more than chains would have.

She pushed up onto an elbow, pressing trembling fingers to the dull ache at her temple. The voices were muffled, but one—female, sharp—cut through clearly enough to make out the tone: furious.

A second later came a screech that could have stripped paint.

There was a distinct sound of scuffling as the female voice moved closer.

Rose let her body go slack, her breathing deepening into the slow, even rhythm of someone asleep. Stillness could be as much a performance as movement. She had learned that from different performers over the years and finally understood what they meant.

The door lock clicked. The hinges creaked.

A woman stumbled into the room, shoved forward by a man who—though not tall—had the kind of square, muscled frame that filled the doorway. His black windbreaker hung loose, but his forearms were thick and corded.

The woman spun toward him, snapping something in rapid-fire Italian. The man’s answer was a vicious slap, sharp enough to echo.

Rose’s gut tightened with fear.

The woman staggered, catching herself with one hand on the dresser near the door. Her glossy blonde hair fell across her face, barely hiding the raw bloom of his handprint.

The man barked a guttural threat in Greek—too low for Rose to catch—then turned his gaze toward the bed.

She let her lids lower again, her body sinking into the mattress, keeping her breathing steady.

A beat later, the door slammed, and the lock slid home.

The woman was instantly at the door, pounding with her fists, her voice rising in another furious stream of Italian.

Rose waited until the tirade ebbed, then opened her eyes fully.

The woman turned.

There was no fear there. Only pure, unfiltered fury.

“This is all your fault!” she snapped in accented English.

Rose pushed up slowly, frowning. “Sorry… what exactly is all my fault?”

“You ruined everything!” The woman flung her hands up, bracelets clinking. “If you hadn’t wiggled your wares in front of Theo—if you’d just taken the hint after Gina went to the apartment—none of this would have been necessary! I wouldn’t be in this mess!”

Rose blinked. She was locked in a badly written horror show. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What does Theo have to do with this? And how did you know about Gina being in the apartment?”

The woman’s lip curled. “Theo Kallistratos should have been mine.”

Ah, that explained the fury, if not the rest of the crazy.

Her runners sank into the thick cream rug beneath her. “And you are…?”

Up close, Rose took in more detail. The woman’s clothes—expensive but rumpled—looked like they’d been slept in. Her mascara had smudged faintly, but her peppermint-pink nails were immaculate.

The woman ignored the question, turning away to rub her cheek where the red handprint was already swelling. Her movements were jerky, defensive—like someone who’d been knocked off-balance and wasn’t used to it.

“Who are you?” Rose repeated, sharper this time, studying the woman like she might study a tiger.

Resentment flickered in the woman’s eyes, but something else too—a quick flash of embarrassment, maybe even shame—before she dropped her chin. Her shoulders trembled.

And then she started to cry.

Rose stared for a long beat, then let out a slow sigh.

Okay, emotional whiplash. But crying means she’s rattled… rattled means she might talk.

She stood, padded to the bathroom, and returned with a cold, damp washcloth. Wordlessly, she held it out.

The woman hesitated—pride stiffening her spine—before she took the damp cloth and pressed it to her cheek.

“Let’s start over,” Rose said, her voice gentler. “I’m Rose. And you are?”

The woman’s reply was tight, almost bitten off. “Allegra Rossi.”

“Rossi?” Rose repeated, the name clicking in her mind like a puzzle piece sliding into place. “Wait. You mentioned Gina a second ago. Are you related to Gina Rossi?”

“Yes. She’s my half-sister.”

Rose blinked in surprise. “Okay. I wasn’t expecting that.” She eased back onto the bed, partly to keep the room from tilting, partly to keep Allegra talking. “Do you know who took us?”

Allegra nodded sharply. “Yes.”

Rose stayed quiet, letting the silence stretch just enough to make it uncomfortable. People filled silences—they couldn’t help it.

Allegra finally spoke. “I did. Well… sort of. It was just a suggestion. I had no idea he would actually do it.”

Rose’s brows shot up. And there it is—the crazy twist. “…You hired them?”

Allegra’s mouth flattened into a scowl. “I suggested it. I didn’t do the actual hiring.”

“You suggested it?” Rose gave a sharp laugh. “Great. My alternate universe theory that there’s a sane one and a crazy one has official been confirmed,” she grumbled with disbelief. “So—who did you sort of hire/suggest to kidnap me, and why?”

Allegra sighed, setting the washcloth on the bed.

“My stepbrother, Vito, is the one who hired whatever misguided idiots he could find. He needed money, and I wanted Theo. It was a two-birds-with-one-stone type of transaction. I had no idea Vito would actually be stupid enough to do it,” Allegra scoffed with a dismissive wave of her hand like there were no laws being broken.

“I’m guessing your family get-togethers are… interesting,” Rose muttered, because really, what else could she say?

Kallistratos Family Villa: Syros, Greece

Alexandros Kallistratos had just decided that paperwork could wait when Dani shifted on his lap, her mouth brushing his in a kiss that was far more interesting than quarterly projections.

Her laugh was soft against his lips when his phone buzzed somewhere behind her hip.

He groped blindly across his desk, still trying to keep the kiss going. “Ignore it,” he muttered.

Dani slid off his lap with a teasing smile. “Break time’s over.”

He groaned. “Who decided that?”

“Your phone,” she said, already walking toward the door.

He glanced at the caller ID and nearly groaned again. Vito Marino. Exactly the sort of person who could ruin a perfectly good day. He thumbed to answer, already planning the shortest possible conversation.

“What?” Alexandros said flatly.

What came back was… noise. A desperate tangle of words—half apologies, half incoherent rambling—that included Theo’s name and a woman named Rose.

“Vito,” Alexandros cut in. “Slow down. English, Italian, or Greek. Not all three. Words in order. Try again.”

“I’m sorry,” Vito blurted. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever done—okay, maybe not everything—but this one, this one’s bad.

Theo is going to kill me. I wouldn’t blame him.

But it wasn’t supposed to turn out this way, you understand?

I owe the wrong people money, and Allegra had this wonderful plan—you know, just a minor delay, nothing serious?—”

Alexandros pinched the bridge of his nose. “Delay for what?”

“To give her time to… uh… seduce Theo.”

That made him straighten. “What did you do, Vito?”

There was a beat of silence. Then?—

“I might have helped… kidnap Theo’s woman. Her name is Rose something. She’s in the tabloids. Very photogenic.”

“Are you admitting that you kidnapped Rose… Rose Smythe?” Alexandros’s voice sharpened. “Lorenzo Alliata’s granddaughter, Rose Smythe?”

On the other end, Vito released a low, miserable groan. “If Theo doesn’t kill me, Lorenzo will. And if Theo and Lorenzo don’t, my father will. And my mother. Possibly my grandmother. Definitely the men I owe money. They have real guns, Alexandros. I’m doomed.”

Alexandros leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. “What were you thinking? You know not even your parents can protect you from something like this, right?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Honest! If we’d known, I would’ve… I don’t know… moved to Argentina or something.”

“Vito, tell me everything you know. Where is Rose? Is she in danger?” Alexandros said, pulling a pad of paper and picking up a pen.

“No—I don’t know—maybe?” Vito sounded unsure.

“When the men came to collect the money I owed their boss, they found out about Rose—and that I knew her, and that she was dating a Kallistratos. They decided they could make some money on the side. I told them it was a bad idea, but they wouldn’t listen to me.

They—they threatened to kill me, Alexandros.

I think they might really do it. They have Allegra, too.

If they don’t kill me, she will! I don’t know what to do! ”

Alexandros rubbed his brow as he tried to get information out of Vito that would be useful in finding his sister and Rose.

It took another five minutes—and enough tangents about Vito’s ‘bad luck with women’ and ‘terrible investments’ to fill a confessional booth—before Alexandros finally got the full story.

Apparently, what was a light, temporary hold of Rose had escalated into an actual kidnapping, because, in Vito’s words, ‘people just can’t be trusted anymore’.

“You are aware,” Alexandros said slowly, “that kidnapping—intentional or not—is a crime.”

“That’s why I’m calling you!” Vito said, his voice climbing in pitch. “I’m in over my head here. I need help—desperately. They’re both here—Allegra and Rose. I’ll do whatever I can to keep them safe until someone gets here. I swear on my mother’s pasta recipe.”

“You’d better,” Alexandros said darkly.

“I’m not a monster, Alex. I mean, I like dogs. And children. Most children. And?—”

Alexandros hung up before Vito could dig the hole any deeper.

He immediately called Theo. The moment his brother answered, Alexandros didn’t bother with pleasantries.

“You’re not going to like this,” he said. “The Rossi siblings have made an even bigger mess than usual—and this time, it involves Rose.”

Allegra was pacing like a caged cat, her hands fluttering toward her hair, her mouth moving in an endless mutter of complaints.

“We could just wait,” she said finally, throwing her arms wide. “Vito said he would fix it.”

Rose arched a brow. “Yeah, and Vito sounds like a real ‘fix-it’ kind of guy. I’m sure he’s putting up missing posters for me right now.”

Allegra scowled. “Well, what do you suggest, then?”

Rose tapped her chin. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we can escape?” she suggested sarcastically.

The other woman stared at her as if she’d just suggested they sprout wings. “Escape. From a locked room. On the second floor.”

“Yes,” Rose replied in exasperation. “I’ve slid down from the catwalks on ropes loads of times in the theatre.”

Allegra’s expression twisted. “You… what? Never mind. If you haven’t noticed, we don’t have any rope.”

“Yes, we do. We can use the curtains—and the sheets,” Rose said, gesturing toward the gauzy drapes at the window. “We’ll pretend we are Rapunzel—we’ll tie the sheets and curtains together and climb down.”

Allegra gave her a flat look. “You’re insane.”

Rose tilted her head. “Didn’t you ever climb a tree when you were a kid?”

“Of course not. Ladies don’t climb trees.”

“Uh-huh.” Rose crossed her arms. “Well, unless you want the other side of your face to look like you went twelve rounds with a hand-slapper, you might want to learn.”

That shut Allegra up.

Rose ignored Allegra’s whining as she stripped the curtains from the rod and Allegra yanked the bedding off the mattress until they had a pile of fabric. Rose knotted the sheets, testing each with a sharp tug. Allegra hesitated, then grudgingly joined, her manicured fingers fumbling.

“This never would have happened if either Alexandros or Theo had just married me or Gina,” Allegra muttered.

Rose didn’t look up. “Why is that so important?”

Allegra sniffed. “Because my parents are nearly bankrupt. We need money.”

Rose paused mid-knot and stared at her. “And did you, Gina, or Vito ever think about—oh, I don’t know—getting a job?”

Allegra stared back, horrified. “I don’t want to work.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I guessed that, but selling your body is obviously a job you don’t mind doing.”

Allegra’s mouth dropped open. “I did not?—”

“You and your sister are literally trying to seduce a man for his money. I’m pretty sure that counts as selling yourself,” Rose deadpanned, tossing another knotted section toward the window.

“This is slander,” Allegra huffed.

“Yeah, well sue me after you get out of jail,” Rose shot back, giving the last knot a good yank. “Now help me get this out the window.”

They shoved the window open, the balmy air rushing in. Rose fed the knotted curtain-rope out until it dangled against the wall. It swayed slightly in the breeze, looking far less sturdy than she would have liked.

“Are you sure this will hold?” Allegra asked, her voice edging toward panic.

Rose flashed her a crooked grin and tried to hide her own fear as she slid a leg over the ledge. “Nope. But it’ll make for one hell of an exit.”