Needing a drink, Papa heads to the bar, leaving me to chat with Massimo as we drink champagne. I’m loosening up as the alcohol hits my empty stomach.
A curly brown lock drops onto his forehead and I push it away from his eyes without a thought of how intimate the gesture is. He smiles, his smoldering dark eyes meet mine. I catch my breath, unable to look away. God, he’s gorgeous. His nose and strong jawline belong on a Renaissance sculpture of a Roman god. His full lips are red, perfect and slightly parted as if he’s about to kiss me. My chest constricts in anticipation as my heart thumps in my chest like a racehorse. There is a familiarity about him, I brush it aside, surly I’m imagining it.
Then. . .
People are screaming and running towards us. I look for Papa, but Massimo grabs me and covers me with his body as if to shield me from bullets.
The area in front of the bar clears and Ridolfo is kneeling next to my father, pumping his chest. Papa’s face is grey, a pale grey I’ve never seen before. Frightened for my father, I cry out, but Massimo’s strong arms hold me back.
I fight against his strong arms. I can’t break free.
“Please, it’s my father.” I look up and plead with my eyes.
“I can’t let you go. It’s not safe. Your guard is with him; the medics will be here soon. We have no idea what happened. You need to stay with me.”
Massimo knows Ridolfo? I don’t remember them meeting, but nothing is making sense right now. My brain is in shock after seeing my father laying on the floor and my body is fuzzy with hormones that kicked in with Massimo holding me.
“You can’t help him, but I know he’d want you to be safe.”
“Am I safe with you?” passes my lips as a whisper.
“I’m your best bet of getting out of here unharmed.”
“I didn’t hear a gun, there’s no blood.” I look at Papa lying there so still it makes me shiver.
Massimo loosens his grip to take his suit jacket off, then drapes it over my shoulders. Oddly, I don’t take the opportunity to escape.
I can’t leave Papa. I hear the siren of the ambulance outside and then medics rush in the room. I look at the exit where guests are making a fuss and see the polizia blocking the door and sealing off the room with tape.
“What’s going on? This isn’t right. Why are the police here?”
“I don’t know but stay with me. They might question us.”
“For what? Papa must have had a stroke or a heart attack,” I murmur as I watch Ridolfo stand up and move away as the medics take over.
“I should go with him,” I cry out as Papa is wheeled away.
“Not safe, whoever got to him could get to you, the worst-case scenario,” he says.
“Let’s ask Ridolfo,” I suggest as a compromise.
“Okay.”
With his arm around my shoulders, we approach my guard and ask what happened.
“I don’t know. He seemed to have a difficult time breathing, grabbed his chest and fell over. It was so fast.”
“You’re in shock, Valentina,” Massimo says, “You need to sit.”
“Yes, you don’t look so well,” Ridolfo agrees.
“I don’t feel so well.” My voice fades as I drift into a sleep I cannot fight. Closing my eyes, I slump into Massimo’s arms.
17
Massimo
My bluebird is in my arms, but this is not my idea of a good time. I’d rather have her leaving scratch marks on my back with her nails and calling out my name as she comes.