Page 60 of Frozen Heart
Ruffo’s glacial eyes remain locked on mine as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone. After dialing, he brings it to his ear.
“Proceed.”
A single word.
As if everything has already been set in motion.
“Is there anything you’d like to know about the donor?” he asks.
Under different circumstances, I would. But not now. Every second counts when Mom’s heart is a ticking time bomb. I’m thankful for their sacrifice. Can sympathize with their family completely. But I can’t bear to think about another death. Another person losing their life. Even as that loss will give my mom her chance to live.
“Not right now,” I croak. “Please. Just make the transplant happen today.”
His gaze doesn’t waver as he returns to the desk and pulls another folder from the drawer. This time, I’m faced with what is clearly a legal document. The top half of the page lets me know everything I need to. A bill of sale. Or it might as well be. It’s a life contract—where I sign mine away in marriage. Every field is filled out. My name. The date. All that’s missing is my signature. Right there, beside Adriano Ruffo’s neat and meticulous script.
“The ceremony will take place in three months. That should be enough time for your mother to recover.” Ruffo’s hand enters my field of vision as he lays a thick black and bronze pen over the paper. “Regardless, as of today, you’re officially mine.”
No matter how hard I concentrate on the pen, my hand isn’t reaching for it.
“Why?” I whimper.Why are you doing this? Why do you have to be so evil?I look up at him.
Tremors rack my body from the intensity of his cold stare.
“You do want me to save your mother’s life, don’t you, Little Iris?”
I grab the pen and scratch my name on the dotted line.
The sound of the door opening draws my attention. Two men enter. One is younger and dressed in an all-black suit. The other appears to be about my mother’s age, or maybe a couple of years older, and is wearing plain jeans and a pale-blue T-shirt.
“Has the money transfer been confirmed?” Ruffo asks. He’s hovering beside me while I continue to occupy his chair. Towering over me like an ominous shadow.
“Yes, my daughter just let me know.” The jeans man acknowledges with a nod and stops a few feet in front of the desk. He’s wringing his hands as if he’s nervous.
“Good.” Ruffo nods. “As we discussed, your grandson will be transported to Tokyo first thing tomorrow morning, and his treatment will commence the following day.”
“Thank you,” the older fellow says while I look away, uncomfortable to be witnessing an obviously private matter. “I’m ready, sir.”
A light touch brushes my chin, startling me.
“Close your eyes, Little Iris.” Ruffo’s husky whisper flows right next to my ear as he sweeps a stray strand of my hair away.
“Why?”
“Now. Please.”
Swallowing hard, I squeeze my eyes shut while dread settles over me.
“Go ahead.” Ruffo’s command seems to fill all available space.
Until a gunshot explodes inside the room.
My eyes fly open, and a soundless scream lodges in my throat as I watch, horrified and frozen, as the man in jeans drops to his knees. Right there, in the middle of the office. The gunfalls out of his hand, clattering across the polished marble. Blood pours from his temple, covering his cheek and nose, dripping onto that powder-blue T-shirt. His eyes are still open, staring somewhere behind me. I can practically see the light fading from them. A choked gargle leaves his lips as he topples over, falling onto his side on the floor.
I can’t breathe. There’s not enough air. It’s as if a giant hand is squeezing my throat. I gasp. An enormous red stain spreads beneath the man’s head. Growing and growing and growing, like it’s reaching for me.
My heart is pounding so hard.
My ears are still ringing.
