john. Toss some food at her. Then stick her back down there. I have shit to do today."
Thank God.
I nearly cried in relief.
With that, Chris made his way in, undoing my ankle, giving me raised brows.
"You have to be exhausted," I observed.
"I'll be fine."
"Once we come back down, you should try to sleep. Even just right outside the door if you don't want to leave."
"I'm not going to leave. Not until there is someone I trust to replace me."
Was it good or bad that Emilio hadn't shown up?
"But you have to sleep."
"I'll figure it out," he insisted as we heard the door slam upstairs.
"Was that him leaving?"
"Probably. Come on. Let's stretch those legs. I think we need to scrounge up some triple antibiotic for that ankle too. It's getting raw. Those shackles are filthy."
I felt a shudder move through me, thinking of the sweat and blood and who knew what else from an unknown number of men were on those cuffs.
"Why doesn't he just deal with me now?" I asked as we sat at the kitchen table, a spare blanket wrapped around my shoulders as I ate plain oatmeal and tried to pretend it wasn't disgusting. It was food. That was all that mattered.
"He probably isn't sure yet how to handle it."
"Because he wants to keep making money off the bakery?"
"Seems like it might be part of it."
"I can run the business with the owner in absentia," I told Christopher, getting a raised brow from him. "I've looked into it. It seemed smart to know my rights when my father was involved with people who frequently make people go missing. There are all kinds of loopholes about how if I have a key and access to the accounts and such, I can keep it running until he returns."
"Doesn't seem like a forever sort of plan."
"No. When someone is missing for ten years, you can file for them to be declared dead. After another ten years from then, they will do so if they never show up. So that's a twenty-year plan."
"And after twenty years?"
"After twenty years, I am the sole beneficiary to my father's will." I knew that because my mother had insisted on him drawing up the documents when she'd been alive still. Just in case.
"Well, that sounds like a good plan then. Tell that to the boss like you told that to me. He might be hot-tempered, but he is all about the money."
Right.
The money.
The money that would likely be doubled just because of the hassle I caused.
Money I would never be able to produce.
Not without Lorenzo and his deal.
Even then, though, I would be looking over my shoulder, waiting for the next minion of Arturo Costa's to catch me alone and accost me simply because he could.
As much as a big part of me wanted to stay, wanted to work it out, wanted to be able to continue the legacy my family had created, the other part of me knew I would never feel safe, would never feel comfortable with the arrangement.
I had to go.
But it would make everything easier if I could have that meeting with Arturo, give him my reassurances, spout off all these facts I knew, agree to his terms.
Then walk out of this house a free woman.
No trying to find a way to escape.
Then, once I was sure I wasn't being followed, hop on a bus or train and get the hell out of here.
Sure, I had the same problem as I did when I had tried to escape the last time. No money. No cards. No nothing. Unless one of them was willing to go into Lorenzo's apartment to grab them for me. Let's face it, the chances of that weren't great.
Still, this time, the possibility of living on a street sounded preferable to being under the thumb of a ruthless mob boss.
I would figure it out.
I always did.
That was my superpower.
"When do you think he will make time for me?"
"Honestly? Hard to say," Chris told me, shrugging his tired shoulders. "He won't forget about you completely, but it might be a day or two before he makes the time for you."
"Okay," I agreed, taking a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for that possibility. "I'm really regretting this fashion choice," I admitted, looking down at my dress. "That basement is freezing."
"I'll leave the door open as much as I can. Let some warmer air in. Plus you won't feel so alone."
"You're a good guy. Has anyone told you that lately?" I