Cassandra Reid
'Wake up'
'Wake up'
My eyes snap open, but I have to close them again. I can't focus my sight. Everything spins around me and constant movement of the ground worsens my condition.
I blink several times until I get rid of the dizziness. Then, I meet the psychopath's face. I only remember arriving at an empty ambulance under threat. Then everything becomes confusing.
How much time will have passed since then?
'Oh God. I have been kidnapped'
"That's right, honey," he pats my head like I'm an abandoned pet. "Here"
He opens a bottle of water in front of me before sticking it to my lips. The bottle was sealed, so I gladly accept the drink.
I am sitting on a chair, tied hand and foot.
From the slight movement I can deduce that we are on water and that increases my fear. I am afraid of sea, how am I going to escape from here?
"Why are you doing this?" I ask in a whisper.
"Why?" he laughs out loud. "You should ask your dear husband that question."
"Well, he's not here... is he?"
"No", he doesn't stop smiling. "I'll just give you a hint: he took from me what I loved the most. Now I'll return the favor."
A shiver runs through my body from head to toe, but they are nothing like the ones Adriano gives me. I am afraid very afraid.
The subject sits in front of me and begins to play with a gun on his hands.
"Do you like it?", he asks pointing to the gun. "I bought it at the Black Market a few years ago. The seller told me that even a three-year-old could hit a target with it."
"I don't like violence," I reply.
This can end very badly.
'Where are you, Adriano?'
"Smart girl," he reaches out with the intention of nuzzling my chin, but I turn my face away. Then he tightens his grip and lifts my chin to give me a closer look, "and very pretty. He doesn't deserve you. It almost makes me sad to have to kill you."
I close my eyes to suppress another tremor, not wanting him to see my fear.
I need to buy time. My husband is a control freak and he's been paranoid since the accident. I'm sure it won't be long before he notices my absence.
"Was it you who sabotaged the car?". I probe the terrain.
"My mistake," he admits, raising his hand guiltily. "I got desperate and got carried away, but I still have time to correct that mistake. His worst punishment will be living in solitude, being miserable and having nightmares every night because his life has been taken from him right under his nose... without being able to do nothing at all."
"Who are you?", I ask. "Since I'm going to die, I at least deserve a bit of information."
"An old friend of your husband," he answers evasively. "One who did what he couldn't: to love his wife."
"His wife?" I force myself to swallow hard. I feel that I am about to discover the origin of the Steel wall.
"Hasn't he told you?" He gives a small laugh. "Of course not. Stella was mine, we had our whole life planned and then he killed her. He killed her along with that monstrosity and had the gall to name the bastard like her."
I can't take it anymore, dizziness takes me and I convulse before expelling the contents of my stomach. It's disgusting and that only makes me throw up more.
When there is nothing left, he passes a piece of cloth over my mouth and he gives me a drink and then cleans up the mess on the floor like it was nothing.
I refer to closing my eyes to avoid another wave of nausea.
I don't understand anything.
Adriano's ex-wife had a lover?
How did he kill her?
I don't feel well.
My body collapses and I lose consciousness.
When I wake up again, everything is dark, only illuminated by the lights of the place.
'It's already night'
Where are you Adrian?
Looking around better, I deduce I am in a kind of cabin. This must be a yacht, not very big from what I can see from the window.
The guy appears on the scene with a tray in his hands. Afterwards, he proceeds to sit a few inches from me. He hands me a spoonful of what looks like soup, but I immediately deny it.
"I'm not hungry."
"It's chicken broth, it's very good," he explains while testing. "You must eat, feed your bastard."
I clench my fists at his last word as I bite my tongue.
"What's the point if I'm going to die?", I question.
"Right," he shrugs before downing the broth under my watchful gaze.
My guts growl from lack of food, but I refuse to eat anything that comes from him. Water and because it is essential.
He drinks every last drop and then goes back to playing with the gun in his hand. He suddenly takes out the magazine and reveals a peculiar bullet in his hands. It's golden, it's pointy, and... it has my husband's name engraved on it.
'By our Lord Jesus Christ!'
"Beautiful, don't you think?" He holds it up with his index and ring fingers. "I carved it myself. This bullet has been waiting five years for its owner."
"Why did you wait so long?". I go back to the attack with my little interrogation.
"Because revenge is a dish which is eaten cold, ragazza", he answers immediately. "Believe me, I had to use all my self-control to control myself. I forced myself to wait until he found a wife, fell in love and... was about to have a child. However, the wait was worth it. Now history will repeat itself , although this time it will play in my favor."
'No'
'Not my baby'
He is a psycho, a fucking psycho.
'Where are you, Adriano?', I continue to call him in silence until I fell asleep.
The sun's rays hit my sensitive eyelids and face, forcing me to wake up.
I move my head from side to side and the rest of my body as I can. Everything hurts, my muscles feel stiff and the constant hammering on the back of my neck tortures me mercilessly.
"Up!" He rushes over to me to untie me. "Move!" He urges me to walk, but weakness won't let me and he has to practically drag me to the deck. Yes, there is no doubt that we are on a yacht. "One wrong move and you'll both die."
"Both?", I ask unsettled. "What's going on?"
"The show has begun, my beautiful ragazza," he declares as he brings his mouth close to my ear. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Cassandra Di Lauro," he adds in a whisper.
We cross a kind of bridge to reach a dock. Then, as if it were a mirage, my husband appears on the scene.
"Adriano!", I let out his name in a gasp.
"Cassandra!"
"Quiet", the kidnapper holds me with the weapon over my head. "Welcome, Adriano Di Lauro, it took you a while to find us."
"If you had given me the location, I would have arrived earlier," my husband explains. "But here I am, Boccaccio, let my wife go."
"Did you let mine go?" he hisses.
"She wasn't yours!"
"Yes, she was!", the psychopath refutes. "Mine! And you took her from me. She didn't love you, she never did. We were just going to take a portion of the fortune that rightfully belonged to her and leave. We wouldn't hurt anyone!"
God, I want this to end!
My tears do not wait as my husband approaches us with stealthy steps.
He wanted me to come, but now that he faced the situation with a revolver on my skin..., I only ask that he leaves, that he be saved. I can't lose him.
His blue spheres collide with mine and he gives me a slight smile to convey calm and I cry harder.
"We were going to be happy away from everything and everyone..., but you got in the middle of her. You killed her."
"It was an accident!", my Italian jumps defensively.
Why has he come alone?
"It wasn't!", the other objects, loosening his grip on my waist a bit.
Then the first pang grips my belly and I lurch forward. My shout interrupts the discussion and Adriano takes advantage of the carelessness to take me by the arm and pull me towards him in a risky but agile movement.
Suddenly, Pietro appears along with the bodyguards, a troop of police and... Dean?
The place turns into absolute chaos at the same time that this Boccaccio points his gun at us. So my husband does not hesitate to place me behind him.
"Put the gun down, Luigi!" he demands. "Let's settle this between the two of us, face to face as it should be."
"Shut up and hand her over to me!" the opponent demands. The police join the warnings, but to no avail. This man will not give up until he achieves his goal. He's been preparing this thrust for years and... "Shoot! Thanks to you I have nothing to lose. Give her to me or we'll all be blown to pieces."
I feel the muscles in my Italian become taut as stone.
"Did you really think it would be so easy?", the subject laughs like a madman. "We're packed with explosives, darling. One click and we all die. So hand her over to me."
"Over my dead body," replies my husband.
"As you wish."
I hear the sound of the shot before my husband's body collapses to the floor.
"Adriano!" I reach down to pat his face endlessly. "Adriano?!" I cry desperately. "Open your eyes! Noooo!" I protest as I'm pulled away from his motionless body.
'He is not dead'
'He is not'
The whiplash in the lower abdomen attacks me with greater intensity.
"Quiet!", Luigi orders. "You take one more step and I shoot him in the head."
The stupid policemen let us go under my protests and howls of pain.
It hurts. Damn, it hurts. I feel as if my soul has been ripped open with a knife in one thrust. Fast, painful and deadly.
"Why did you do it?!" I yell. "This will not bring Stella back to life!"
"Shut up!", he slaps me across the face.
I scream and kick at him and suddenly the world stops. Everything happens in a matter of seconds in front of my eyes.
A bullet hits his body, between eyebrows, pushes me to one side in a last impulse and I am thrown into the water at the same time the yacht explodes into a thousand pieces.
I ignore the searing heat, the throbbing, the pain, and focus on holding my breath.
It's like reliving that dream I had the night before I met my Italian. That dream in which our destinies were sealed forever. However, this time I will not be saved by my Prince Charming. He is no longer here...
I try to move, but it's impossible. I can't fight anymore.
I'll die buried under the sea... Adriano was right, I can't live without him. He is my air to breathe and at this point, I have already run out.
At least I have the consolation that we will meet again beyond death.
'I found you', it is reliving the last moments of my dream that I allow myself to be dragged into the darkness.