07

Francesca

Light filtered into the room, rays of blinding sunlight that woke me from a fitful sleep. I could barely open my eyes.

All night I tossed and turned, convinced that the lock on my door would mean nothing to anyone who wanted to break in. Namely, someone with bright blue eyes and a nasty disposition who enjoyed kidnapping and drugging young women. The only way I could relax was knowing Giulio slept a few doors away.

I rolled onto my back and studied the plaster ceiling. If I were to find a way out of this, I couldn't stay in bed or hide in this room. I had to go out and explore, look for weaknesses. Try to come up with a plan to escape. Even if Giulio had resigned himself to this marriage, I certainly wasn't.

Fortunately, the bathroom was stocked with all the toiletries I could need, mostly high-quality Italian brands that we couldn't buy in Canada. Her closet and closet were full of clothes, from yoga pants to designer dresses. Even La Perla bras and panties, although I don'