“Sergio!!!” Her hands cover her mouth as she races to him, his body slumped over in a heap. She drops to the floor, shaking. Caprice rolls Sergio over on his back, his shirt covered in blood.
“OH MY GOD!” Caprice screams, tears streaking down her perfect face. “Oh, Sergio!” Caprice sobs, placing her head on his cheek.
Sergio’s eyes flutter, just barely, only an ounce of life left in his body. “Caprice……….” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “Leave………now…………” Sergio begins coughing, choking on his own blood.
Caprice bends down even closer, placing her ear up to Sergio’s mouth. “Please, Sergio, don’t leave me!” she wails.
“Leave……..…it’s Alex…McCallllll………..miaaa……..beeellllaaaaa………”
His head falls sideways, unable to hold on any longer, all life leaving his body, firmly in death’s grip.
Three days later
Back in Naples, Caprice sits in her apartment, dressed in a baggy t-shirt and shorts, no makeup, her long dark curls piled high in a bun. She smokes a cigarette while sipping wine, her eyes red and puffy from crying.
The last three days had been a blur. After finding Sergio, she contacted his right-hand man, Mario, who immediately made arrangements to get to London. He instructed Caprice to not, under any circumstances, contact the police nor open the door. As she sat waiting for Mario, she covered Sergio’s dead body with a sheet, cried silently into her hands. Caprice thought she would go out of her mind waiting for Mario to arrive. By the time he did, Caprice was numb with shock. He brought with him two other Mafia goons. Caprice told them everything she knew. She didn’t mention the name, Alex McCall, that Sergio had whispered in his last breath-Caprice thought it best to keep that to herself. They quickly took care of Sergio’s body, knowing exactly how to handle this sort of thing.
Caprice, along with Mario and the others, boarded their private jet, returning to Naples that day. Ever since returning home Caprice had locked herself up in her apartment, trying to make sense out of everything.
Sergio had uttered a name in his last moments. Alex McCall. The name rang clear as a bell in Caprice’s mind. She shakily brought the cigarette to her lips, inhaling deeply, the nicotine calming her frayed nerves. Mario insisted that she have security, and put an associate outside her apartment. After one day Caprice told the guy to leave. It made her even more edgy having some Mafia thug sitting outside, monitoring her every move.
What I am going to do now, she thought.
She snubbed her cigarette out, finished the glass of wine. She got up and checked the front door, ensuring it was locked for the tenth time. Caprice then made certain the back door to the balcony was secured, checking several times. She punched in the security code to the home alarm, making absolute certain it was activated. Caprice kept Pink Lady right by her side - a small, pink 9 mm pistol – loaded and ready to use if needed.
Finally, she went to her bathroom, opened a beautiful gold oval shaped pill box, popped a Xanax. She ran her finger over the little box – it had been a gift from Sergio.
Caprice crawled into her pink satin sheet bed, exhaustion taking over her body, the pill allowing her to relax. She placed the 9 mm on the bedside table, the sight of it relaxing her as well. She lay her head down on her pillow, her dark curls framing her face. She closed her eyes, sleep claiming her, a tear slowly falling down her cheek.
The following day, Caprice awoke early, the morning sunlight spilling through the slits in the bedroom window blinds. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.
I have a choice, Caprice thought. I can get my shit together. Or I can fall apart.
Caprice opted to get her shit together. Resolutely she stood up, determined to figure all of this out. Caprice was a survivor. She knew how to take care of herself – she always had. She had goals, dreams, Caprice reminded herself. She couldn’t let Sergio’s death prevent her from attaining all that she wanted.
She took a shower, pampering herself with her most luxurious soap, followed by a delicately scented body lotion that she massaged into her skin. She dressed in a casual yet feminine ensemble of dark skinny jeans and an off-the-shoulder flower printed top emphasizing her breasts. She carefully applied her make-up, dabbing her lips with red lipstick, enhancing her full pout. Caprice studied her appearance in the mirror and liked what she saw. Returning to her normal routine helped her feel better, more like herself. She was Caprice Belmonte – it was her duty to look fabulous.
Sitting down at the kitchen table, she poured herself a cup of coffee, mulling things over in her mind. Whoever it was that murdered Sergio must not have realized she had been in London with him, otherwise they would have waited for her arrival. Caprice shivered at the thought, trying to keep the fear and panic at bay. She quickly jumped up from the table, checked the locks on the doors and windows. She sat down, trying to calm herself, and closed her eyes, thinking back to what Sergio had said to her in his final moments.
Alex McCall……..
Memories came rushing back to Caprice. Two years ago. Rome, Italy. A handsome British man with a sexy smile and even sexier accent.
She had met Alex while dancing in a gentleman’s club in Rome. He had strolled into the club, a slightly bored look on his face, as though he had been in a million clubs like this before, and had experienced all that these clubs had to offer. Then, he laid eyes on Caprice and suddenly he didn’t look so bored.
She danced for Alex all night - intimate, erotic lap dances, while he stuffed money down her lacey thong. They chatted, flirted, laughed, and got drunk off champagne together. Caprice left with Alex that night, and stayed with him for the entire week while he was in Rome.
At the end of their week of passion, Alex and Caprice parted ways, both knowing their time together was nothing more than a wild fling. He kissed C
aprice on her cheek, whispered “thank you” in her ear, and returned to London. Caprice returned to work, and eventually moved on to Naples.
Caprice never thought about Alex McCall again. Until now.
She didn’t ask many questions during her week with Alex, but she did recall he said he was in the hotel business. Frankly, at the time, Caprice didn’t really care what Alex did for a living – she was enjoying a week in the Cosmopolitan Hotel in Rome and their incredible fucking.
Caprice switched on her laptop, decided she needed to do some research on Alex McCall. Apparently, he was a hotel developer and owner of McCall Enterprises, based in London, with luxury hotels scattered throughout the world.
No wonder we stayed at the Cosmopolitan Hotel in Rome that week – he owns it, thought Caprice.