Deception of the Heart (25 page)

‘You’ll get ready now, no more stalling. Or would you rather have me dress you myself?’
His eyebrow rose in a challenging expression, and he watched her shake her head in refusal. ‘I didn’t think so, Melanie. But you have to hurry if you want me to remain civil, darling.’

She
felt utterly spent and hopeless. She wouldn’t have a chance to slip away. He watched her every move with a hawkish gaze that burnt her skin like flames of hell. She had a few minutes alone in the bathroom where she briefly deliberated making some noise. If she banged on the walls or, even better, the pipes going from the old-fashioned tub to the ceiling, someone was bound to hear her. She dismissed it, though, mostly because the door was unlocked. One skilled move of Pete’s pocketknife had disabled the latch and left her without privacy. So she dressed and put on her makeup, skipping the mascara. She didn’t trust herself to pull it off with her fingers shaking. She watched herself in the mirror. Her pale face and huge dark eyes looked haunted. The thick curtain of dark hair did little to help, and she dabbed her makeup brush in the container with blush. It helped a little, but the pink hue was still unable to liven up her features.

It would have to do
. She stepped out of the bathroom, aware of Pete’s eyes on her face. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how miserable she really was, and she took a deep, steadying breath before speaking.

‘I am ready
.’ She shrugged, her gaze going to his casual clothes. ‘Are you going like that, or am I to sit and wait for you to get ready?’

‘Sarcasm isn’t really your thing
.’ He slanted his mouth into a reluctant grin. ‘But you’re right, of course. You’ll wait for me.’ He picked up the belt again, gesturing to her palms. ‘I would really suggest you don’t do anything silly, Mel. Come on.’ They walked over to the connecting door, now miraculously open.

T
he maid had never closed it, she realized. She followed him to his bedroom, and a few brisk moves secured her to his bed, tied to the railing.

‘
Just so you know, it would take you way too long to free yourself, Mel.’ He started to unbutton his shirt, his tanned, smooth chest as beautiful as a male model’s. ‘I promise to be very fast, so just be a good girl and sit here if you don’t want to get in too much trouble. I’d hate to have to gag you and mess up your pretty makeup, but I will if you make it necessary.’

He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving the door open just enough to hear her every move.
She wished she could disobey him, but it wouldn’t work, and she needed to save her strength for later. She tugged gently on the belt wrapped tightly around her wrists. It was impossible to loosen it, just as she feared. Even if she managed to slip it off her hands, she still couldn’t walk out of the room without him noticing.

Not that she had a plan of any sorts, really.
All she could hope for was to survive the next few hours. Still, as Pete said himself, hope died last, so she waited, praying for a miracle to turn things around. The minutes trickled by slowly. She heard him move around, the soft swish of his clothes incredibly loud in the silence that surrounded her like an ominous cloud of misery.

The gala room was already half full with people when they arrived two hours later. She walked in, Pete’s hand on her shoulder. Those were the two longest hours of her life, no doubt. After he was done getting ready, he made her sit on the bed while he made some last moment phone calls, completely unperturbed by her presence. He seemed to have given up keeping any secrets from her. She thought of his offer to let her live if she kept her silence and hoped he really meant it. Because as far as she remembered from any books or movies, a person who knew too much was a dead person, period. And she definitely knew a lot.

She
’d had to sit quietly and listen, her desperation growing with each passing second. His conversations made her realize the Peace Brigade really was incredibly cruel and sinister.

She spotted
no familiar faces in the crowd. Daniel was still hidden in his dressing room. When she thought of the old man, her heart twisted with anguish. He expected Pete to come and try to assassinate him before the speech, didn’t he? Everyone did. The thought that he planned to sit it all out without so much as moving a finger hadn’t crossed anyone’s mind. She remembered Bernard discussing it yesterday with crisp clarity, even though the memories were irrevocably tied to Jon. They wanted to take him down quietly as soon as he made a move. It was crucial not to rush things, they’d said.

Daniel
had insisted on Sophia arriving later, for her own safety. However much trust he put into the skilled hands of the agency, he wanted her out of the room. It was the only time she’d seen him proactive, really. Her surprise party for her husband fit beautifully into the intricate plan. She’d have a believable and convenient excuse to arrive late without making Pete suspicious.

It didn’t matter, however. Melanie thought back to the snippets of
Pete’s conversations and felt tears, burning and bitter, at the back of her throat. It was all in vain, after all. Pete had won, tricking the agency and the Spitieris with an ease that would be impressive if it wasn’t so absolutely horrible.

She briefly entertain
ed the idea of causing some commotion to draw attention to them and maybe slip some info to one of the agents, but she gave it up instantly. She didn’t know any of them, save for Bernard and Jon. Her eyes went over the clusters of chatting, laughing people, neither of the two men present, as her heart sunk even lower in her chest.

‘We should go and sit down
. It’s about to start,’ Pete whispered into her ear, his voice silky smooth. She could tell he was enjoying himself, probably riding a wave of pride that he had managed to carry out his plans after all. He glanced at his wristwatch, his smile widening. ‘And it has already started back at the house, I think.’

She wanted to hit him
. Her fingers itched, and she balled them into tight fists. She knew what he meant, of course. She’d heard it all just moments before. As they stayed here, calm and serene, a van would arrive at the Spitieri residence, Giovanni as the driver. He’d leave boxes at the house that would blend in with other last moment catering deliveries Sophia so ironically ordered. Giovanni would make sure the package with the explosives he’d worked on for the last twenty-four hours would go off at just the right time: when Daniel was getting ready for his speech.

Melanie
glanced around nervously, hoping against hope to spot Bernard or Jon. If they made eye contact, she could convey at least some kind of warning. Jon would understand, even if it didn’t last longer than a second. And maybe, just maybe, it could save him too. She didn’t want to think about what Pete said about him. Her whole body hurt when she imagined Jon hurt or, even worse, dead. Everything else faded into oblivion when she thought of him. Every desperate nerve ending in her body called him to her until she thought she’d cried his name out loud.
He couldn’t get hurt.
Like a prayer, the words replayed in her head over and over again, her knees shaking.

‘
Don’t think about fainting, Mel,’ Pete’s warning whisper alerted her that she was being watched. ‘Chin up and look ahead. Be a good girl,’ he commanded, his smiling face deceivingly warm and friendly. To all gathered, the short exchange was nothing but a meaningless chat between colleagues.

She obeyed and took the seat he so gallantly offered. Others were sitting down, the loud chatter decreasing into a murmur, making her think of
the hum inside of a beehive. She looked down at her hands and noticed a few scratches from the belt cutting into her skin. The cut from yesterday was healing fast, the angry red line faded into a darker mark and covered with a Band-Aid. She closed her eyes and tried to think about the trip with Jon, desperate to escape the misery of what was about to happen. She was braver there, acting instead of waiting for fate to do its work. Couldn’t she do anything? Where was her courage? She knew the answer, of course. Yesterday, she was someone else. Her act of bravery was born out of desperation to help the man she… cared for. She could not allow herself to get into it any deeper. She cared for Jon, and the thought he might get hurt was unbearable enough to make her forget her own safety. But things had changed. He had betrayed her, completely and without the slightest hesitation.

Sudden commotion in front of the room interrupted her unhappy thoughts. She saw Daniel briefly, his face creased with worry that tugged at her heart
. He looked like a man who had received some really bad news, his hunched back and pale face different from the man she remembered. He talked to two other men, both of them explaining something urgently, their hands waving in the air with the typical Italian panache.

‘Yes, it
has started,’ Pete whispered. Her skin crawled with terror. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t move. Her wide-open eyes followed Daniel as he disappeared through a door, leaving the two men standing awkwardly in the front of the room.

‘
Ehm… escusi
…’ the older one started, his voice hesitant. The microphone screeched, and he grimaced, looking helplessly around. His colleague came to his rescue, taking over and saying something in fast Italian. Melanie’s ears barely made out a few words here and there. She just understood that Daniel wouldn’t be appearing after all, gasps from all around her confirming her fears.

‘
Ladies and gentlemen,’ the older host spoke again, this time in English. Most of Daniel’s reading for tonight was planned in English due to the multinational audience. ‘We are sorry to inform you the lecture had to be cancelled.’ He waited for the outraged murmur to die out before continuing, his English impeccable. ‘Mr. Spitieri’s family was in an accident just moments ago, and he needs to return to his residence right away…’ He kept speaking, the crowd’s noise replaced with silence.

Melanie
didn’t need to listen. She knew already what had happened. The image of Sophia, smiling and friendly, appeared before her eyes. Giovanni’s delivery went off as planned, destroying the house and all those inside. She thought of Daniel, probably rushing there, frozen in disbelief. And of Bernard and Jon, of course. Did they blame themselves for making such a mistake? She looked around cautiously, expecting to finally catch at least a glimpse of them. They’d probably hurried to the scene of the crime as well. In all the frenzy, they must have completely forgotten her, still stuck with Pete and unsure if she would survive the next twenty-four hours. Or maybe it didn’t really matter. Maybe what happened to her was not important enough to bother them in the first place. They couldn’t go after Pete without causing major drama, which they were so adamant to avoid. Who cared what happened to her if it didn’t affect the major operation they sought to shut down once and for all? Nobody, apparently. She remembered Pete telling her his plans for Jon, and her heart tightened in painful premonition. By now, she was pretty sure Pete Brunner had it all under control. He would have someone waiting for them, ready to deliver the final blow. He was absolutely capable of pulling it off, she realized, tears gathering in her eyes and threatening to spill over.

‘Come
.’ Suddenly Pete was pulling her to her feet, too impatient to notice her stumbling in her high heels. ‘I need to see what is going on, now.’

She assumed h
e meant the other operations, and she tried to keep up with his long stride. If the other cells struck at the same time, there would be some news reports about it already. Pete wanted to gloat and enjoy his victory. He was basking in the knowledge that the agency could not stop him, not only because they had no proof of his involvement, but also because they didn’t know he’d been on to them in the first place. For all they knew, he was absolutely unaware of their actions.

They walked out to the hallway leading to the back of the building, now oddly empty. The marble
there was replaced by simple greyish slate, still beautiful and elegant but much darker. The hallway turned sharply to the right, the rest of the path hidden from their eyes. The sound of their steps was almost eerie in the silence. Pete must have shared her sense of impending doom because he stopped and listened.

‘
Shhh,’ he commanded, lifting his left hand in a warning gesture. ‘Don’t move.’

She obeyed, standing helplessly in the midst of the corridor, her ears straining. Nothing.

‘Where is everyone?’ Pete asked, his voice low and dangerous. ‘Where are all of the other people in this building? Or those coming out of the cancelled lecture? We seem to be the only two people here.’ He turned around, inspecting the empty hallway. ‘Don’t move,’ he demanded again, reaching into his pocket. She knew he had a gun, of course. She’d seen him hide it inside his jacket, the small, sleek, silver weapon oddly captivating. She hated guns. She had the odd sensation that she was a spectator in the cinema.

He pulled her to the wall, his hands rough. She
saw the door to her right, an emergency exit, and the sign above it glowed with red letters in both Italian and English. He pushed the it open, one strong impatient move that would take them outside, away from the relative safety of the crowd she thought would eventually come this way. She wanted to delay him, but she hesitated, wondering what to do.

He made it easy for her. Grabbing her arm, he pushed her forward, shielding his own body as she led the way, however involuntarily.
She felt the evening air hit her skin, cool and soothing. A light breeze ruffled her hair and she stumbled, tripping over the uneven stones of the pavement. She fell to the side, her knee smarting with pain as it scraped against the concrete.