Chapter 5 - The Gilded Cage
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Gio did not react immediately. He walked over to the heavy oak doors, ensuring the lock was engaged, before turning back to her. The mask of the ruthless Don was firmly in place, but his eyes burned with a dark, consuming fire.
"Accusing my underboss and blood uncle of patricide is a death sentence, Isadora. Do not speak those words lightly."
"I saw him in Naples," Isadora insisted, stepping toward the center of the room. "The day your father had me trace the Swiss accounts. Silvio was leaving the exact bank where the illicit funds were being deposited. I can prove it, Giovanni. It’s all in the black book."
Gio stared at her for a long, agonizing minute. The tension in the room was a living, breathing entity. Finally, he turned away, staring into the roaring flames of the fireplace.
"If you are lying, I will kill you myself," Gio stated. "But if you are telling the truth... I have been taking counsel from the man who murdered my father."
"What are we going to do?" Isadora asked, the reality of her situation suddenly crashing down on her. She was locked in a mafia fortress with a boss who might kill her and an uncle who definitely would.
"We do nothing tonight," Gio said, turning back to her. "You are going to sleep. I will have guards stationed outside your door. You do not leave the room, you do not speak to the staff, and you absolutely do not look my uncle in the eye again."
He called for Maria, an elderly housekeeper who looked too terrified to even breathe loudly, and instructed her to take Isadora to the east wing.
The room she was given was a gilded cage.
Silk sheets, a massive balcony overlooking the stormy sea, and a bathroom entirely clad in white marble. But the heavy click of the deadbolt locking from the outside reminded her that she was a prisoner.
Isadora stripped off her damp, cheap waitress uniform and stepped into the scalding heat of the shower. She washed the smell of garlic and restaurant smoke from her skin, replacing it with the expensive lavender soap provided in the suite.
When she finally emerged, wrapped in a thick, plush robe, she sat on the edge of the massive bed. She pulled the silver locket from around her neck.
It was the only thing she owned that hadn't been in her stolen backpack. She popped the tiny clasp open. Inside wasn't a picture. It was a minuscule, tightly folded piece of waterproof paper containing a string of alphanumeric codes.
May you like
The key to the safe deposit box in Naples.
She clutched it tightly in her fist. Tomorrow, she would have to convince the devil to take her to hell to get it back.
