TWENTY YEARS AGO
Dim light cast shadowy figures across the living room of Allen Wallace, as slow jazz hummed from his ancient vinyl player.
In the couch covered in soft leather pleasant to his aging back, Allen sat with his legs crossed, as his eyes scanned through the newspaper spread open in his hands.
Across from him, his wife, Bianca Barone Wallace, hummed along the music playing, her skillful hands crocheting a piece with fine, precise movement.
The room smelled a mixture of polished leather, and soft lavender. The air, blissful- testament of a fulfilled life.
Allen looked up from his newspaper, and stared at his wife who had just hit a pleasant note, with a look of pride and admiration in his face.
She caught him staring, and smiled. "Do you want me to refill your coffee, dearest?" she asked, already rising to her feet.
"No, don’t worry about it. I just want you to continue sitting pretty."
Bianca laughed demurely, and gently placed her crochet piece down.
"What if I refill your cup, and then sit on your lap, so you can see me sitting prettier?" She teased, stopping in front of him, and lowering her head to stare into his sparkly blue eyes.
"You’re trying to drive me crazy, right?" he murmured, already giving in.
She laughed harder. "Never that. You’re going to remain sane for a very long time." She kissed him fully on the lips, and just as he was getting into it, grabbed his empty cup, and darted away, her playful laughter lingering behind.
Allen shook his head. "What a woman," he mused pleasantly.
"Indeed, what a woman," a third voice said from behind him.
He froze, instantly recognizing that voice. It was a voice he would recognize even in a state of amnesia.
"You’ve become sloppy, Allen. Or should I call it arrogance?" The intruder’s steps were measured, as he circled the room, and came to a stop in front of Allen.
Their gazes, one cautious, the other, mischievous, locked.
"Matteo Alvarez." The intruder’s name fell out of Allen’s lips in a hush whisper, like a deadly curse.
"Hello old friend. We meet again," he drawled as the corner of his lips twitched.
Allen’s gaze darted down to the gun in Matteo’s hand. "Only cowards kill unarmed men."
"Is that why you didn’t finish me off in the desert? You didn’t want to be a coward?" He let out a cynical laughter.
Allen’s ear caught a faint sound coming from the direction of the kitchen, and his eyes widened, peeling off the mask of calm he was wearing.
Bianca.
"Don’t worry, Allen. I’m not here to hurt the queen. In fact, I’m here to save her."
He whipped his head back to Matteo. "Save her from what?"
His grin widened. "Well you of course?" This time, his laughter was psychotic.
Tired of talking pointlessly while his woman’s life could possibly be on the line, he rose to his feet slowly, his eyes cautiously on Matteo’s gun.
"What do you really want?" He asked when he was fully upright.
Matteo’s eyes brightened. "Come on amico, you know exactly what I want. Give the map."
"Over my dead body," he replied arrogantly.
He bobbed his head. "Nice foreshadow, but first things first."
A screech from the kitchen sliced through the tension in the room.
The corner of Matteo’s lips spread into a knowing smile. "I guess she’s seen the surprise."
"Bianca!" He took a step towards the kitchen, but stopped as Matteo cracked the gun.
"I already told you nothing will happen to her. The great surprise is her stepbrother. Her father wants her, and your daughter back to Italy. Now for the last time, old friend, where is the map?"
Allen’s fist tightened. "How did you get in here?"
"Six men in total guarding you on a whole vacation? It was easy to slit their throats through the shadows. Their death came without struggles and the utmost silence. You taught me that move, remember? Isn’t it how you managed to kidnap Bianca in the first place?" The mischievous twinkle in his eyes returned.
"I’ll admit, I didn’t see this coming. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it is my arrogance. But one thing’s for certain–" he paused. "Old friend," Mimicking Matteo’s gait. "Bianca, my daughter, and the map, are all mine!"
In a heartbeat, he bolted for the kitchen. But just before he could slink his way through, a shot fired directly on his back.
The bullet split through his spine, dropping him to the ground.
"Allen!" Bianca, who was just by the door with her stepbrother pressing a gun to the back of her head, screamed out.
Allen’s dying gaze caught her frantic ones. "I’m sorry. Save her," were his last words before taking his final breath.
The interpretation of his dying words fully registered with Bianca. Without wasting any more precious time, she drove her heel into her stepbrother’s groin, causing him to lose his balance.
As he cried out, she sprinted through the kitchen door.
"maledetto inferno!" Matteo cursed.
"I’ll get her," her step brother said, whilst nursing the pain in his groin. "I’ll get the bitch." Turning around, he pursued after her...
PRESENT DAY
ITALY
The doors to the home of the retired comondante Genelare, Giovanni Ferrari, were opened widely as guests arrived in celebration of his retirement and 60th birthday party.
Every guest walked into the living room draped in their finest dinner attires, with a mask to match.
The room, illuminated with diamond lights, and glittering chandeliers, buzzed with rich Italian music synched with good conversations, and healthy laughter’s.
Amongst these guests were the latest arrivals, Valentina Quinn, and her best friend, Natalia Esposito.
"I can’t believe they just let anyone in," Valentina whispered to Natalia, their arms linked together, as they blended in with the crowd.
"I heard he’s a really generous man. Everyone is equal in his eyes," Natalia whispered back.
"Have you seen him anywhere though?" she scanned through the crowd, her half mask making it a bit difficult for her to see clearly.
Their heads moved around, looking through all the corners their gazes could reach, until finally, they saw something.
"Look," Natalia’s hand brushed against Valentina’s. "There he is, Val. There’s my father," she breathed out in disbelief.
"Shhh, you can’t be too loud," Valentina cautioned. "We’ll be called crazy if anyone hears us. Let’s focus on the plan. You’ll go to him when he’s isolated, and show him the letters from your mother."
"But how?" Her lips quivered. "Look at all of the security surrounding him. They’ll never let us through."
"Hmmm," Valentina began to think of a plan, when from behind, her ears overheard the conversation of two gossipers.
"I wish I could go into that room too. I heard only the really important people have access to it," first voice said.
"Yeah, we the common people are stuck here in the common room," the second replied bitterly.
Valentina looked again. They were right after all. The celebrant was standing by the archway that led into the special room.
Now, he was going in, after ending his conversation with the press around him.
"He’s leaving Val. What should I do?" Natalia panicked.
Think Valentina. Think of something quick!
All of a sudden, she saw something . Everyone’s eyes had moved to one direction, following the arrival of someone.
A man, his head towering above all others, including the security detail surrounding him. His presence, strong, commanding, and—dangerous.
They all gasped in awe, as they watched him with admiration in their eyes.
That’s it! That’s the key, she thought.
"Natalia, I’m going to cause a distraction. The second I do, you run through that door, okay?"
"Wait how—"
However Val was already moving forward with quick determined strides.
She weaved through the crowd, holding onto the fold of her long red flowing dress to grant her freer movements.
A collective gasp shattered through the mouths of the guests, as she broke into the man’s path.
Before his security detail could make a move to stop her, she stood on her toes, and boldly pressed a kiss on his lips.