جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 80

“Your first sales are very impressive, Marco. I'm genuinely proud of you. It seems everything you lay your hands on turns to gold, and this venture is no exception,”Becca remarks, a beaming smile of pride adorning her face.I smile contented at the progress obtained from my first exportation. “You realize I can’t be the public face of this business indefinitely, don’t you?”“Yes, I’m aware. Once we’ve established ourselves in the oil market and garnered massive positive customer reviews, I’ll be able to step into the spotlight,” I reply.“That’s reassuring.”“Thank you, Becca. You’ve become family to me. I’m grateful for your unwavering support, both for Aurelio and myself. I’m not quite sure how to repay your kindness.”“You and your brother have done more than enough.”“I’m willing to do more. Just tell me what you need, and if it’s within my capabilities, consider it done,” I assure her, eager to reciprocate her generosity.“Are you sure?”“Yes,” I respond firmly, meeting her gaze

As Becca sets the dining table, I begin clearing up in the kitchen, but she interrupts me. "I said I'll handle that. Go put yourself together; they'll be here any moment now," she insists. "I'm almost done," I protest, not wanting to leave her with all the work. "Marco Lorenzo!!!" she exclaims, using my full name to emphasize her point. "Wow, I'm off. Please don't forget the wine," I say with a grin, heading out of the kitchen. "Done," Becca confirms, her voice trailing after me. I quickly tidy myself up and make my way to the living room just as the doorbell rings. Becca flashes me a knowing smile as she goes to answer it. "Hey, Marco!" Giovanni greets me with a warm embrace as he enters, followed by Flora. "Hey, Giovanni. Flora, it's good to see you," I reply, returning the embrace. "Thanks for having us over," Flora says with a smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's our pleasure. Come on in," I say, gesturing for them to follow me to the dining table. “We brough

My consciousness slowly seeps back into my senses and the room starts to swims into focus. My head throbs, each pulse sending jolts of pain through my skull. The voices around me, initially distant and indistinct, gradually sharpen into clarity.“I think he is awake,” Sophia’s familiar voice says, cutting through the haze.“He had better be,” another voice responds, sharp and authoritative.“Mrs. Matteo, please, let’s maintain some composure. Marco has been through a traumatic experience,” a third voice interjects, clearly belonging to Becca.“Who are you again? Becca, my grandchild was kidnapped right in front of your son’s apartment and you ask me to be calm? He is my very first suspect and both of you better pray that she is found unharmed.”“Nonna please, my baby will be found. Let's give them a bit of space while we go and get the detective and the doctor.”The names Mrs. Matteo, register dimly in my foggy mind, stirring memories of Valentina’s family. But why am I here, and what

Slowly, I close my eyes against the silky material around them, after what seemed like a torturous forever, I finally manage to find the right position to relax. With my body still tightly tied up to the chair, sleeping becomes a nightmare, each movement in the chair shoots pains through my body causing a blur of discomfort and pains. My muscles and limbs protest against my tightly bound restraints, my wrists sore and sporting bruises from their cordlike chains. When I finally find an accommodating position that doesn’t cause spikes of pain all over my body, exhaustion overcomes me making me drift in and out of a fitful slumber. I catch whiffs of dreams, dreams haunted by visions of freedom that seem to elude me so much. Just as I am finally slipping further and further into my sleep, I jolt awake by the sound of footsteps approaching and getting closer. All my limbs protest in pain at the shift from resting to being on alert, my heart ponds in my chest as I brace myself for the immi

Judging from the sunlight streaming in through the only window in the room, it is now three days since the removal of my blindfold. I roll over on the thin mattress, the only fixture in the room apart from the chair I was earlier restrained to, and stand up. I pick up the chair and placed it close to the window to begin my routine surveillance of the compound. There really is nothing to see from my position by the window, the room I’m being held in seems to be in a building close to a high wall, leaving me nothing to stare at but the wall.Grimly, I sit and try to get a grip on my emotions. I’ve not had a change of clothes, neither have I had a bath, the only luxury I’ve been afforded is the use of the toilet twice in a day. Each time I go to the toilet, I try to get a feel of the house but it’s difficult to do that with the heavily armed man who escorts me and watches all my movements like a hawk. Sometimes I get the feeling he’s praying silently for me to make a wrong move so h