Page 51 of Broken Honor

His frustration builds, his foot tapping against the tile. “They could be on the plane already. What if—”

I cut him off, shaking my head. “No.”

He stays quiet for a moment, the only sound the distant hum of the air conditioning. He looks at his phone again, then back at the door, clearly struggling with the idea of just waiting, doing nothing.

A few more women walk in, noticing us, then immediately walking out when they see us standing there. Bugatti shifts uncomfortably, clearly wishing he was anywhere else right now.

I glance at the screen again. It’s 1:47.

Bugatti’s shoulders are tight now. His movements restless. I can see him growing more tense, like he’s about to speak again, to argue or question the plan.

Just as he’s about to open his mouth, the bathroom door swings open.

She walks in. The girl.

I glance at Bugatti, who mutters, “No way. She really walked in.”

I can’t help but whistle under my breath.

There she is.

I straighten, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips, and walk toward her. She freezes when she sees me, stepping back instinctively, fear flashing in her eyes.

“Hey,” I say, my voice smooth, almost amused.

I switch to Italian, letting the words roll easily off my tongue.

“Come stai? How are you?”

Chapter Ten – Lunetta

I clutch the rosary hanging from my wrist tighter.

His presence is overwhelming. His scent hits me first—a rich, sharp perfume. It smells like danger but it makes my heart beat painfully.

But there’s something cold in his eyes.

My legs shake as I turn to run, but before I can make it to the door, the huge man is there. He’s blocking me.

He smiles at me then.

“Please…” I whisper, but my voice barely comes out.

From his pocket, he pulls out something—a syringe.

My heart stops. I want to scream, to run, but my legs won’t move.

He looks at the man behind me. “Hold her.”

The man steps forward and puts his hands around me, locking me like a metal chain.

No, no, Nonna is waiting for me. I was just coming here to send Bea my final goodbye. To cry. To let it out before I go back to Nonna, not wanting her to see my tears.

“Let me go!” I scream, my voice raw with fear.

What is happening? Please, someone—anyone—help me.

I hear footsteps, but they're far away, muffled by the bathroom walls.

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