Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I look as bad as I feel.
I walk with all the other passengers, and realizing I have to go through passport control, a wave of exhaustion rolls over me.
The wariness in my bones makes my legs feel heavy.
I fall into the back of the line and nibble on my bottom lip as I cautiously glance at all the people.
I’m already tired from all the running, and I know Angelo will catch up to me at some point.
Unless I never use my name again. How do I even do that? I’ll need a new name, ID, and social security number.
I lower my head and let out a heavy sigh.
There’s a good chance Angelo’s already waiting for me by the exit.
Where I had to take a commercial flight, he had the convenience of using his private jet. He’s powerful and could easily have found out which flight I was on.
Dear God.
The line creeps forward, and when it’s my turn, I hand my passport to the officer. The man glances at me before checking my passport. “Why the short trip to Sicily?”
My frail nerves tighten my stomach.
“Something came up, and I had to come home.”
His eyes narrow on me. “What?”
“A death in the family.”
My heart thunders in my chest, but then he just stamps the passport and hands it back to me before calling out, “Next.”
I’m going to die from a nervous breakdown long before Angelo gets to me.
I follow the other passengers, and as they head to the carousels to collect their luggage, I move to the side to wait a moment.
If Angelo is here, I’ll need to get past him without him seeing me, and I can only do that if I hide in a crowd.
That’s if he’s even here. He could still be in Sicily. He could’ve sent one of his men to kill me. He might not even know where I am.
There are so many possibilities, but I’m preparing for the worst.
My eyes lock on a family of seven, and I quickly move in their direction. The parents struggle with their two younger boys while the three teenagers walk slightly ahead of them.
When the mother stops to pick up one of the boys, I catch up to them. Using the mother and child as cover, I quickly pull the strap of my handbag across my chest.
Once you’re through the doors, just run.
I stick next to the woman, and as the exit comes closer, my heart pounds out of my chest. The urge to look for Angelo as we walk through the open doors is intense, but I don’t want to give away my position.
Suddenly, the boy starts to cry, and the mother stops to put him down.
My eyes dart to all the people waiting for the passengers, and the moment my eyes lock on Angelo, the blood freezes in my veins.
Nooooooo!
My body instantly goes into flight mode, and I dart in the opposite direction from him.
Oh God. He’s going to kill me.
I’ve felt fear before, but it’s nothing compared to the terror coating my skin right now.
My breaths burst over my lips, and I keep glancing over my shoulder. Big Ricky is closer to me than Angelo. I didn’t even see him when I started running.
Both men are catching up to me, and I let out a shriek, running as fast as I can.
Barreling through the exit, I turn right and sprint up the sidewalk. My eyes lock on a cab, and rushing toward the vehicle, I yank the back door open and climb inside.
“Where to?” The driver asks.
“Go! GoGoGo!” I shriek as I glance out the back window. “Just go!”
When the cab pulls away from the curb, Big Ricky aims his gun at us.
“No!” I breathe.
Before he can take the shot, Angelo stops him. A second later, they jog toward a black SUV.
“Please go faster,” I beg as I turn my attention to the driver.
“What’s the rush?” he asks, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror.
“Someone is following me.”
The man shakes his head. “I don’t want no trouble, lady.”
“Please. I’ll give you a thousand dollars. Just get out of here.”
The mention of money seems to do the trick because as soon as we leave the airport, he drives much faster. When we get onto the interstate, he goes over the speed limit, and I feel a flicker of relief.
“Thank you,” I say, and as I glance out the back window again, my heart sinks as I watch the SUV weave through traffic.
I frantically look around the area, wondering if I should ask the driver to stop so I can get off the highway.
Before I can decide what to do next, the SUV speeds past us and turns sharply in front of the cab.
“Jesus!” The driver shouts as he slams on the brakes.
“God!” I shriek, and the second we come to a stop, I shove the door open and dart out of the cab.