The Lawyer

1-Rome

This story follows on from The Collector, please read that first.

Sophie POV

I am In Rome for Christmas.

The air is filled with the busy chatter of tourists exploring the Christmas markets. I have already purchased a book about Italian traditions and a hot chocolate.

Mostly I am just walking around inhaling deeply at the comforting smells from food vendors filling the air. Admiring the warm glow of Christmas decorations that cover the centro storico, lighting the dark that descended in the early evening.

It is truly beautiful here, like living in a dream. The historical buildings, the festive excitement, even someone who doesn't actively follow religion can get swept up in the anticipation of Christmas.

So why am I alone nursing a hot chocolate feeling sorry for myself? Oh yeah because I am hiding from a murderer...

For someone so smart on paper I am apparently a complete idiot. First I started falling for a client which is already a big no-no and when I thought that was bad enough I discovered that all the work I had been hired to do was a sham, a ploy to keep an eye on me so they could track another of my clients.

Mr Thornton...

I feel the burn in the back of my eyes that has been my familiar friend this past week. Swallowing back the lump in my throat I hold back the tears that are threatening to fall again. The tears that had me hiding in my hotel room for my first few days in Rome, avoiding all contact with the outside world. With the exception of a call to our neighbor Mrs Howarth who is house sitting and Eddy.

I didn't go into detail about what happened when I called him, I told him a guy I had hooked up with was having stalker tendencies, which is kind of true. Do I need to tell Eddy that the guy is possibly part of the mafia? It would just sound like I am being dramatic.

A stalker is enough of a reason to explain why I would change my number and not feel comfortable coming home right now. Eddy obviously won't be telling anyone where I am and as far as work knows I am taking compassionate leave following the death of a client. Given that I have just closed two deals they had no issue with me taking some time off.

Eddy was sad that we wouldn't get to spend Christmas together but he understood as he put it 'Bitches be crazy'. I'm not sure he would call Mr Canossa a bitch if he knew the truth.

If he knew he was a murderer.

At this thought the previously held back tears break the damn and start to spill down my cheeks, they feel hot in my eyes but quickly turn cold against my skin in the December air.

I wouldn't have even left my room today but I know most of the hotel residents are sleeping to be ready for midnight mass later. I thought this would be the most peaceful time to stretch my legs.

So I am alone for Christmas In Rome and Eddy is going to spend it with his family. I am tempted to go back but I think it is too soon. I'm scared that they will be there looking for me.

I know Mr Canossa followed me to the airport. I was lucky to get out of Venice, I don't want to think what would have happened if he had found me before I could get out.

Would he have killed me too? I knew too much, it would be dangerous to keep me around wouldn't it?

I take a big sniff drawing dirty looks from an older woman passing by, and use the back of my glove to gently dry off my cheeks.

The skin is dry and red from days of tears staining them and I wince slightly at the contact. I need a hot bath and some food, I haven't really been eating since I arrived. Spending the week drowning my sorrows, I know that it is a terrible idea to try and drink your feelings. It is usually something I avoid but I just wanted to numb the ache in my chest. Replace the constant stress induced nausea with the burn of the duty free liquor. I haven't felt right since I saw those papers on his desk.

The papers that told me he had been lying the whole time. All the work I had been doing was fake. When I made the call to confirm my suspicions it felt as if time had stopped. Nothing was real anymore and I am just waiting to wake from this nightmare.

I keep thinking about that day, the bitter irony that if I hadn't gone to seek comfort from him I might never have known. That the comfort I sought was for the pain I felt at the death of my first client, just to discover Mr Canossa was the one who had taken him.

I wanted to forget everything from the moment I had met Mr Canossa. Everything I thought had been a lie, an act to keep me nearby, to use me as a means to track poor Mr Thornton. From that first moment when he was just that handsome stranger on the stairs in the rain, when he was the man I shared pizza and beer with laughing, The man who was scared of the ferris wheel that I comforted, The man who kissed me passionately in the snow, the one who became an irresistible temptation.

What's worse is all the not knowing, not knowing if they were all in on it. Does Lili know that was why he kept me around? Did Maddie? They seemed so excited at the idea of us together was that all part of the plan to keep me around? Did they laugh at me? At my joy at feeling included by them, when none of it was real. My chest aches at the thought.

I need to stop thinking about this. I join a small queue at a stall selling Suppli. It's like deep fried rice that has ragu inside, I buy some to eat back at my hotel. I would usually eat at the hotel restaurant but it has a set menu this evening.

They are serving a large dinner with it being Christmas Eve, for people attending the midnight mass. Which appears to be everybody but me. This dinner is sometimes known as 'The Feast of the Seven Fishes,' so it's obvious why I am not interested. It contains a variety of fish, shellfish, and other delicacies. (Gross)

I make my way back to my hotel grateful that I wore flat shoes as I cross the uneven cobbled floor. Holding my Suppli and hot chocolate close trying to steal some of their warmth as a biting wind wraps itself around me.

I need to invest in a better coat, I left mine in Venice and I don't want to risk getting sick again.

Arriving back at the hotel I eat my suppli while I wait for the shower to heat up. I am not completely sure if midnight mass will mean some loud bell ringing at midnight so my plan is to stay awake until then avoiding a rude awakening.

Stepping into the shower I let out a sigh, the hot water massaging my tired muscles. It's amazing how exhausting it is doing nothing except crying. I lather shampoo into my hair massaging my scalp before rinsing away the suds and repeating with conditioner. I don't need to shave as I'm still smooth from my spa day with Lili and Maddie.

It's hard to believe that was only a week ago. It feels like another lifetime now. I keep finding myself wondering if the girls know why I have gone, then I have to remind myself they were likely a part of it.

I settle down under the duvet pulling out my new book, flicking to the contents page I look for Christmas. It seems fitting and start to read.

It's an interesting read. I didn't realise there was so much I didn't know about Christmas or Natale in Rome for example that children get presents on the 25th December and the sixth of January. They believe in La Befana, a good witch, who brings presents to good little girls and boys and lumps of coal to the naughty ones. (Sounds just like Santa Claus, doesn't it?) But instead of a sleigh and flying reindeer, La Befana rides her broomstick around Italy to deliver toys.

The belief is that as the Wise Men traveled to see the Baby Jesus, they came across La Befana in her cottage. She hosted them for the night, and the next day, the Wise Men invited her to join them on their journey. La Befana decided not to join them, but packed a basket of gifts for Baby Jesus and set off to find him on her own. (independent woman)

The Wise Men may have beaten her to Jesus, but La Befana isn't bitter, she still delivers toys and chocolates to the good children in Rome.

I find the story kind of ironic really, when you consider that Christmas is a catholic holiday and the history of the Catholic church and witches. Is that why they hate witches? Because they were late to visit the manger? I roll my eyes at my own thoughts. Letting out an involuntary yawn. It's ridiculous how exhausted I am doing nothing.

I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes.