Drake
F*CK! Five f*cking days we’ve been stuck in this villa. Since the night of the dinner we’ve been left alone. After being brought back from what they called the infirmary but was more like a five-star clinic, all our meals were left at that front door.
No one came to check on us. Sal, who got off easy with zero wounds, changed mine and Marco’s bandages.
“We’re so f*cked,” Sal said for the hundredth time.
“How did none of this come up in any of our research? I thought Roberto was just some old guy living off his laurels. It’s like everyone we talked to only gave us half-truths,” I said.
“I swear when I traveled in this area the locals said he was a retired old mafia Don. No mention of your friend Bill. He was like their best-kept secret. And no mention of the REDRUM twins,”
