‘I totally agree with you,’ she said in a heartfelt voice.
‘I read that you’d joined your uncle, running Colette’s. By
then
I’d discovered that you were probably with Sophie the night she died. It felt like fate somehow. I already worked in that world myself. I followed you. Learnt about your propensity for visiting those seedy clubs and bars and taking some lucky guy home with you.’ He gave her a look that was half amused, half sad. ‘I realised then how I would get to meet you. And you were everything I’d ever dreamt of.’ He smiled softly, and for the first time that evening, she glimpsed the Adam she’d known so well and loved so much. A stab of bitter pain and regret pierced her.
Yesterday morning, I stared into those eyes as he made love to me
, she thought.
How has it all changed like this?
‘How has this happened, Adam? How has it come to this? We were so happy,’ she said quietly.
He stood up, looking pained. ‘I didn’t want this! Yes, I wanted to know what had happened that night, but the longer we were together, the more I loved you.’ He turned to her, his eyes burning. ‘I mean it, Allegra. I love you. You know it’s true. I never wanted to hurt you.’
She nodded. She believed him. ‘I know,’ she whispered.
‘Tell me it’s not over for us,’ he begged. He sat back on the sofa and buried his head in his hands. ‘I can’t bear it if it’s finished,’ he said in a broken voice. ‘I’ve got nothing without you. You’ve been my world for so long.’ He gazed up at her. ‘Please, don’t leave me. Tell me we’re still together.’
She stood up slowly, taking a deep breath. ‘I can’t say that. I don’t know. I need time to think about it.’
‘If I’ve lost you as well as Sophie, then my life is completely pointless.’ He looked up at her desperately. ‘I don’t know what I’d do.’
She froze, absorbing the words, suddenly frightened again.
Is he threatening me?
‘You said you’d never hurt me,’ she reminded him in a quiet voice.
‘I know.’ He stared back down at his feet. Then his
shoulders
shook and his voice came out high, jagged with tears. ‘But I need you, Allegra. And I can’t bear to think of you living without me.’
‘I love you too,’ she said gently, intent on calming him down. ‘But this is all a huge shock, you must see that.’
He nodded, sniffing.
‘If you hurt me,’ she said slowly, ‘it would make everything a million times worse … you know that, don’t you?’
‘I’ll never hurt you, I promise.’ He looked up, his cheeks wet. Then he stood up and held out his arms. ‘If you love me … come to me. Kiss me.’ He took a step towards her and she flinched. ‘See? You don’t even want me near you! I’ve lost you already, I can see that.’
‘You haven’t lost me,’ she said, filled with a rush of pity and tenderness for him.
‘Haven’t I?’ He stared at her beseechingly. ‘Then do it … kiss me.’ He walked towards her.
She felt the nearness of him and suddenly yearned for his embrace and the comfort of his kiss. She truly did love him. He had given her a peace she’d never found anywhere else in her entire life. She lifted her face to his and he wrapped his arms around her, taking her against the security of his body and kissing her passionately.
Yes
, she thought.
It feels right. Even after everything that’s happened. This is where I’m supposed to be
.
Then there was a strange cracking sound at the window followed instantaneously by a high whizzing sounds and the next moment Adam had jerked, staggered, thrown up his arms, his face utterly astonished, and then collapsed to the floor as though his legs had been kicked away from under him.
As Allegra stared, frozen in shock, she saw a stain of dark blood pool out across his thighs.
Chapter 65
AS THE PRIVATE
plane soared across the Atlantic, Mitch stayed in constant contact with his London operation. Every contact possible had been used in the underworld. Someone, somewhere, must know who had pulled off Romily’s kidnap and where she was.
He waved away the attentions of the cabin crew with their offers of champagne and smoked salmon, accepting only a steady supply of black coffee to keep him going.
It was hard to bear the sensations of constant fear and panic that resolved themselves into an overpowering feeling of angry impotence. He and Romily had become so engrossed in their own machinations, the expansion of their empire and her secret participation, that they’d taken their eyes off the ball. They’d forgotten that her existence was hardly a secret and that her immense wealth was an irresistible lure to criminals. Her security was supposed to be rock solid but somewhere it had failed. The guard was gone too – either overpowered and now dead or else part of the whole operation.
He didn’t buy for a moment this crazy guy Allegra was jabbering on about. One lone British man against an SAS-trained guard, a driver and a custom-built, top-of-the-range, armoured Mercedes? Uh-uh. Couldn’t happen. No way.
The gorgeous cabin attendant came up with another pot of fresh coffee and he accepted a top up.
Jesus, I’ll be buzzing
like
a fucking bee if I carry on like this
.
He lay back in his chair, watching through the porthole as they flew into the day ahead. Allegra drifted into his mind. She was a fascinating girl, there was no doubt about it. She was a heady mix of hot sexiness and aristocratic froideur, and if he wasn’t already very much in love with Romily he’d have a hard on for her, absolutely. But he and Romily had sworn they’d bring her down for what she’d done to them, taking away what she prized most and in the most painful way – becoming her competitors, buying the business out from under her, trampling on her dreams.
And yet, on the very day she lost everything, she decided to help him.
Why?
His Blackberry went again and he picked up another message, listing contacts now doing investigative work throughout the world. Still nothing. He swore under his breath.
He tried to transmit his love and strength to Romily, wherever she was.
I’m coming for you, baby. I owe you everything. I can’t live without you. I’m not going to let anybody hurt you
.
He’d kill with his bare hands anyone who’d touched her.
They landed at JFK in good time, the day already well advanced, bright and clear. A car was waiting to whisk Mitch away from the airport and into Manhattan.
He’d left a poor chef, with three hundred dollars to his name and a couple of black eyes. Now he was coming back, rich, successful and important. He’d left the city by bus for his economy flight. He returned in a private jet with his chauffeur-driven limo waiting.
And all to see the guy who’d given him those black eyes.
*
This is one hell of a trip down Memory Lane!
thought Mitch, as he strode into the Greywell Brasserie. His associate-cum-bodyguard followed a few paces behind, on full alert, casing the restaurant as they went in. He remembered the guy he’d once been: a two-bit chef doped out on heroin half the time, cooking like a demon the rest of it – when he wasn’t fucking waitresses.
A loser
.
Mitch approached the back table respectfully. As he neared it, the man sitting there flanked by two heavies stood up to greet him. He’d aged, Mitch noted, a trifle more stooped, the hair slightly more grey, the face more deeply wrinkled. But then, it was some years since they’d last met.
‘Mr Panciello,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘Thank you for agreeing to see me.’
Panciello stared at him for a moment with cold eyes. Then a smile spread across his face and he held open his arms. ‘Come here!’ he said. Mitch went to him and the older man embraced him, kissing him on both cheeks. ‘Now sit down,’ he ordered, and they all took their places at the table.
Mitch felt emboldened by this affectionate greeting. He hadn’t expected it. ‘Sir,’ he said, ‘I don’t want to waste your time. I’ll say what I’ve got to say and leave you to enjoy your lunch. I’ve come here for two reasons. The first is to thank you. Six years ago, you taught me a lesson that turned out to be the most valuable of my life.’ He grinned at the old man. ‘Not that I exactly thought so at the time!’
Everyone chuckled, and Mitch continued talking.
‘But you taught me that I should always be aware of what is going on and keep in mind who the powerful, important people are. Remaining ignorant of that is total foolishness.
I
was a total fool. More than that, you taught me that the only kind of person to be is exactly that: powerful and important. You said “Be an owner” – and now I am. So I most sincerely want to thank you for that, sir.’
Panciello gazed back at him, nodding. ‘Yes,’ he said, his voice hoarser with age now. ‘You’re right. And you know what, kid, I knew this would happen. That one day you’d come back and show me what you’d done with your life. I had every faith.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘That’s why I told my boys not to rough you up too bad. You still had to be able to go out there and make your mark on the world.’
They all laughed. Panciello said, ‘Seriously – you were fucking up. Wasting your life. You were going to smoke yourself to death with that shit, or step on the toes of someone less merciful than myself. Then you’d wind up dead, that talent of yours screwed up and tossed away. So I tried to teach you the right way.’
‘And you did, sir,’ Mitch said earnestly. He folded his hands together on the table in front of him. ‘But I have something else to be grateful for. You, Mr Panciello, are also responsible for my meeting my wife. The night I was … taught my lesson … I wound up in the alley behind her place, and she came to my rescue. Later, we met again, fell in love and got married. With her support, I’ve become the man I am today, with my own restaurant empire, just as I’d always planned.’
‘And kept well away from mine!’ quipped Mr Panciello. His associates laughed again, keen to show their appreciation of their boss’s wit.
‘And now, despite how much I owe you, I’ve come to ask a great favour.’ Mitch grew serious and the mood around the table sobered. ‘My wife has been kidnapped. A huge ransom is being demanded or she will be killed. I believe the people holding her are renegades, stupid amateurs in a world they don’t understand. I also believe that someone connected knows something. They’ve had professional help from somewhere.’ Mitch bent forward across the snowy tablecloth, his eyes pleading. ‘Sir, your contacts are second
to
none. You know everything that is going on around the globe. Your influence is a thousand times greater than mine. If word gets out that you are against these people, they will be denounced and I will be able to deal with them and bring my wife home where she belongs. But time is running out. I desperately need your help, sir. Will you help me one more time? I’ll be forever in your debt.’
Panciello stared back across the table, his liver-spotted hands clutching the cloth. He took a long slow drink of water from the glass in front of him. At last he opened his mouth.
‘Go back to London,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Go back. If I can help, you’ll find what you want waiting for you there.’
Elation surged through Mitch. ‘Thank you, sir!’ he said. ‘My God, thank you!’ He leapt to his feet.
A shadowy smile crossed Panciello’s face. ‘Well, having gone to the trouble of finding you a wife, I can hardly let her be taken away, now can I?’ He nodded to the door. ‘Now go. And remember me, like I’ll remember you.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Mitch turned and left as quickly as he could.
Romily could sense that the people guarding her were becoming increasingly fearful.
How long have I been here?
It was hard to know now that she was blindfolded. The hours passed by, each as black as the next, with no clue as to what time it was. She’d been taken to the loo three more times, and been given water and sandwiches twice. Did that mean she’d been gone twenty-four hours? Or longer?
On one of her journeys to the loo, she had heard Carlo arguing with someone, perhaps Rocco. It made her feel sick to think that these men, who knew her so intimately, had betrayed her like this.
But they don’t know about Mitch
, she reminded herself.
Their
meetings had been conducted away from the eyes of the guards.
Like the last time I was with him
. She remembered that secret rendezvous in the library at the ambassador’s party when they’d coupled so quickly and beautifully. It had been like that for so long now. They’d both been living for the time when they’d be able to be free and open about their relationship, could live together like any normal couple.
But will that ever happen
? she wondered, agonised. Perhaps the guards had forgotten she spoke fluent Italian – or maybe they no longer cared what she knew, because they were going to kill her whatever. Carlo had been spitting with rage that there was no sign of the money, that her parents seemed to be prevaricating.
‘How can these rich people pretend they don’t have money?’ he’d raged. ‘They must have twenty million in the safe at their house, for fuck’s sake! At least!’
Rocco had been trying to calm him down. ‘It’s only been one day. They’re probably getting their funds together as we speak. I don’t believe they’ve gone to the police. My girl in the house says there’s been no one visiting, no detectives.’
‘If I hear of one policeman walking through that door, she’s dead!’ cried Carlo.
‘And with her, any hope of getting the money. Come on, Carlo, we always knew this would be the tough part. We must keep our nerve, get the cash, and then …’
She’d heard no more, hustled away and back into wherever they were keeping her.
Oh my God! Someone is spying on my parents!
Five minutes before, Romily had been praying for them to get the police and anyone else involved. Now she realised with sick horror that it would be her execution warrant if they did.
And if the money didn’t come soon, she’d die anyway, she was sure of it.
*
Back on her uncomfortable couch, Romily rolled up into a foetal shape. She longed to sleep and find oblivion, wake up back at home in her own bed.