Page 15 of One Filthy Kiss

“New York?”

“Where’s New York, Meggie?” Amber asks.

“It’s a city, sweetheart.”

I’m torn between stopping Amber from getting upset and not wanting to take my eyes off Giovanni Sabatelli in case he whips a sack over my head and handcuffs me to him.

“It’s where I live,” Gio says. “But we can’t drive there. We have to fly there in my airplane. Would you like that?”

He has this way of altering his voice when he speaks to Amber, sucking her in like the Child Catcher fromChitty Chitty Bang Bang.

“Don’t confuse her.” I clench my jaw, trying to convey just how much I hate this situation he has dragged us into, without scaring Amber. “If you won’t let us go, I’ll call the police.”

Gio nods once. “Go ahead. But I’d think carefully before you make that call, Meggie.”

“Why?” Panic is starting to congeal inside me.

“I know the LA Police Commissioner personally, and you have no evidence to back up your accusation of abduction. You’re not bound or gagged, or worse, and neither of you have been harmed. Besides, trying to have me arrested will be a direct route to getting your photograph in every tabloid in every major city in the United States, not to mention a headline on every national news channel and warped versions of the story all over social media.”

I allow his words to sink in.

I don’t know how or why he is able to influence the Police Commissioner, but I have no reason to doubt him. He is calm. He already knew that he’d won the moment I agreed to leave the studio with him. And he’s right. He clearly has the kind of wealth that opens doors and persuades people to look the other way, so what chance do I stand against that kind of power?

I must do what’s right for Amber. If it means traveling to New York with him on his private jet, then that’s what I’ll have to do.

I realize, too late, what a mistake it was to come to LA. Lured by the promise of sunshine and sandy beaches and Hollywood, I thought it would be the experience of a lifetime for me and Amber, but I didn’t think it through. I feel vulnerable so far away from home. Exposed. I’ve taken our tiny apartment for granted, believed that I was stronger than I am, and now I feel like a snail without its shell.

“And you promise to bring us straight back to LA?”

“I promise.”

He sounds sincere, but I’d bet that a snake would sound sincere as it promises not to eat the mouse.

I’ve seen private jets in the movies. But nothing can prepare you for the sheer luxury of climbing aboard an aircraft knowing that no one is going to jostle you along a cramped aisle so that they can get to their seat and enjoy the chaos and carnage all around them.

But it isn’t just the lack of people. It’s the sleek lines, the plush comfortable seats, and the spaciousness that no one who has ever traveled economy class would associate with an aircraft. There’s a bedroom with an actual ensuite bathroom. A steward welcomes us aboard with a glass of champagne served in a crystal flute. There’s even a mini library filled with books and games in case we get bored.

“Would you like to meet the pilot?” Gio asks Amber.

“Can I?”

Amber peers up at me wide-eyed, and I’m reminded all over again that she’s only five years old. She’s just a child. A child who lost her mom before she even had a chance to create any lasting memories with her.

“Sure.” I watch her walk away with Ric and try to quell the panic that has been simmering beneath the surface ever since I met Gio.

Gio and I sit on opposite sides of a polished mahogany table.

I peer out of the window at the buggies ferrying luggage between the airport and the planes on the tarmac. It’s a regular day in the lives of the airport workers. At the end of their shift, they’ll go home, make some dinner, watch some TV and then go to bed, perhaps mentally preparing themselves for the following day, or remembering someerrands they forgot to run, or a phone call they forgot to make.

Regular people with regular problems.

That will never be me or Amber.

I’ll never be able to drop my guard because I know that’s when he’ll come back for her.

I sense Gio watching me and drag my eyes away from the world outside the private jet. My skin tingles beneath his gaze; it’s as though he can see right through me and follow every thought.

“She’ll be safe with Ric,” he says, confirming that I’ll never make a professional poker player.