The Italian

“Deadly.”

“What… w-what will I pack?” she stammers, her voice rising.

“Whatever the fuck you want. Marly will be waiting outside for you. Hurry.”

“Okay.”

“Olivia, stay calm, and whatever you do, don’t tell anyone anything about this.”

“Oh my God, Enrico, are you sure about this? It seems so very drastic.”

“We have no choice. We’ve been backed into a corner. This will just give us some time to prove the drugs aren’t mine.”

“Yes, yes, okay,” she whispers. “You’re right.” She sighs. “See you soon.”

Olivia

I sit in the back of the car and wait. We’re parked on the tarmac at the airport.

We were whisked through the security gates and allowed to drive straight through to the Ferrara jet as it was being refueled.

About ten minutes ago, the pilot and a stewardess boarded. They weren’t Italian.

/> Who were they? And if Enrico got them at such short notice, how much did he fucking pay?

My heart is in my throat. What if this plan backfires?

What if we don’t get away in time?

Will we both be thrown in jail for obstructing justice? God, I feel sick.

“What’s taking them so long?” I ask Marly.

He peers up into the rearview mirror. “They’ll be here soon.”

I close my eyes. Fear has infiltrated every cell of my body. Just getting here without other security was tough enough. I’m being watched for every moment of the day now. Marly lied and said he had to take me to a beauty appointment around the corner in Lake Como. With a few grumbles from the other guards, they finally agreed to let him take me on his own.

Now, we’re here at the airport, planning an escape. It’s a plan we are being forced into taking. We’re lying to everyone. We have no idea who we can trust anymore.

I put my hand over my stomach. Fuck. Imagine if I’m pregnant and in jail. I’ll be one of those women you see on cable with no teeth and two black eyes.

My eyes widen. What if I get deported?

“Oh my God, Marly,” I gasp. “What in the hell is taking them so long? Call someone.”

“Here they are,” he says.

I turn and see the black Mercedes pulling in through the gates. My eyes roam to behind their car. Is anyone following?

The car pulls up beside us, and Enrico gets out. He’s wearing his customary navy suit and tie. He offers me a calm and sexy smile as he opens my car door.

“Hello, my love.”

“Hi.” I climb out carefully. How the hell does this man look so in control when this is an out of control fucking situation?

He takes my hand. “Where is your bag?”

“In the trunk.”