Chapter 49 The Walk
AMELIA
Day two alone in Jeremy's wing felt longer than the first.
I'd done all my tasks. Made the bed that no one had slept in. Organised the closet that didn't need organising. Cleaned the already-clean kitchen.
By noon, I was restless. Anxious. The walls felt like they were closing in.
I needed air. Needed to move. I needed something other than the silence of the empty wing.
I found my phone and called Luca.
"Amelia? Is everything okay?" He asked, shocked that I had called him.
"Yes. I'm fine. I just—" I hesitated. "Can I go for a walk? Just around the grounds. I won't leave the estate, I promise. I just need to get outside for a bit."
Silence on the other end.
"Please," I added. "I've been inside for almost two days. I'm going crazy here."
A sigh. "Boss said you should stay in the wing."
"He said not to leave the estate. Not to interact with other family members. The grounds are still the estate, and there's no one out there to interact with, right?"
Another pause. "Fine. But I'm coming with you. And you stay close. No wandering off."
"Thank you. I'll meet you at the east wing entrance in five minutes?"
"Make it ten. I need to finish something first."
I hung up and grabbed my cane, my heart already lighter.
Outside. The fresh air and movement would be refreshing.
Finally.
LUCA
I met Amelia at the entrance, already regretting this decision.
Boss had been clear: she stays in the wing. Doesn't leave. Doesn't go anywhere.
But she'd sounded so desperate on the phone. So trapped.
And technically, the estate grounds were still the estate. She wouldn't be leaving. Just walking.
What could go wrong in twenty minutes?
"Ready?" I asked.
"Yes. Thank you for this, Luca."
"Yeah, well. Just stay close, okay? Don't wander off."
We walked through the gardens. Amelia's cane tapped against the stone pathways, her face turned toward the sun. She looked relieved. Happy, almost.
Like someone who'd been holding her breath and could finally breathe.
My phone buzzed. Dominic Santoro.
Shit.
"I need to take this," I said. "Stay right here. Don't move. I'll be ten feet away."
"Okay."
I stepped away and answered. "Mr Santoro."
"Luca. I need you at the main house. Now. There's a situation with the security feeds."
"Sir, I'm currently—"
"Now, Luca. Unless you want to explain to me why you're too busy to handle a security breach?"
Security breach. Cristo.
I glanced at Amelia. She was standing where I'd left her, face turned toward the sun, perfectly still.
"I'll be right there. Give me five minutes."
I hung up and started to call out to Amelia—
But my phone rang again. Nico this time.
"Luca, Dominic's pissed. Whatever he called you about, get here fast."
"I know, I'm coming—"
"Is Amelia secure?"
"She's right—" I turned to where she'd been standing.
There was only an empty space.
"Amelia?" I called out.
No response.
"Shit. Nico, I'll call you back."
I hung up and spun in a circle. Where had she gone?
She'd been right there. Right fucking there.
AMELIA
I'd waited for Luca to finish his call. But as I stood there, I heard footsteps approaching. The footsteps were light and measured. The footsteps were not Luca's heavy boots.
"Amelia?"
I recognised the voice instantly.
Alex. The stranger from Brooklyn who'd helped me with my cane.
"Alex?" I turned toward his voice. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing." He sounded amused. "Last I saw you, you were in Brooklyn. Now you're at—" He paused. "Where are we, exactly?"
"The Santoro estate. I work here now."
"Work here?" Surprise in his voice. "As what?"
"Personal maid. For—for one of the family members." I didn't know why I hesitated to say Jeremy's name. "What about you? Why are you here?"
"Business meeting with someone in the main house. Import-export deals." He moved closer. I could smell his cologne—different from Jeremy's, lighter, with notes of citrus and cedar. "You know, I was hoping I'd run into you again. Brooklyn isn't that small a neighbourhood, but somehow our paths never crossed."
"I moved. Obviously."
"Obviously." He paused and then asked. "Have you had lunch?"
"Not yet," I replied.
"There's a café about two blocks from here. Just outside the estate gates. Best coffee in the area. Would you like to join me?"
I should say no. Should wait for Luca. Should follow Jeremy's rules about not leaving the estate.
But Alex's voice was warm. Friendly and normal.
And I was so tired of being locked up. Of following rules. Of being protected and controlled and told where I could and couldn't go.
"I should tell my—the person I'm with. He's on a call right now—"
"Call him. Let him know. I'll wait."
I pulled out my phone and dialled Luca.
It rang. And rang. And rang.
Voicemail.
I tried again. Same result.
"He's not answering," I said.
"Text him?" Alex said.
I sent a text saying that I was going for coffee at the café outside the gates. With Alex. Will be back soon.
I hit send.
"Ready?" Alex asked.
I hesitated. Jeremy had said not to leave the estate. But I'd told Luca where I was going. Left a text. It wasn't like I was disappearing.
And Alex was nice. Normal. Someone who treated me like a person, not a problem to be solved.
"Okay," I said. "Let's go."
LUCA
I searched the gardens for five minutes before panic really set in.
She was gone. Completely gone.
I called her phone. Straight to voicemail.
Called again. Same.
"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK."
I dialled Jeremy. He'd kill me for this, but better he heard it from me than—
Voicemail. He was probably in meetings. Phone off or silenced.
I called Nico. "She's gone."
"What do you mean gone?" he asked with confusion.
"I mean, I can't find her. She was right there; I took a call from Dominic, and when I turned around, she'd vanished."
"How long ago?"
"Ten minutes? Maybe fifteen?"
"Cristo, Luca. Boss is going to kill you."
"I know. Help me find her. Now."
I ran back toward the main gates, asking everyone I passed. Security guards. Gardeners. Staff.
Finally, one of the gate guards: "Blind girl? Yeah, I saw her. Left maybe ten minutes ago with some guy. Young, well-dressed. They were heading toward the café down the street."
My blood went cold. "What guy? Describe him."
"Tall, dark hair, expensive suit. Looked Russian, maybe? Spoke with an accent."
Russian.
Volkov.
It had to be.
"Did you stop them?"
"Why would I? She said she worked here, that she was just going for coffee. Seemed fine."
I was already running before he could fininsh.