Chapter 3 3.

It was past one in the morning when Celia finally arrived at her apartment, the fatigue of the day, fell heavily upon her shoulders. With a weary sigh, she flicked the switches, illuminating her lobby and room, ensuring that the main door was securely locked. Letting her purse slide off her shoulder, she carelessly dropped it onto the nearby couch, its contents spilling haphazardly.

Feeling the need to wash away the weariness, she made her way towards the bathroom, her steps echoing in the silent apartment. As she entered the pristine space, she swiftly discarded her already sweaty clothes into the hamper, eager to embrace the rejuvenation of a cold and relaxing shower. Adjusting the knobs, she selected the perfect temperature, allowing the icy water to cascade over her fatigued body.

Under the cascading water, Celia closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart and allow her nerves to relax. The sensation of the cold water against her skin was both invigorating and soothing, washing away the day's exhaustion and leaving her feeling refreshed.

Emerging from the shower stall, she wrapped a fluffy towel around her body, absorbing the moisture from her skin. Leaving behind a trail of moist footprints on the clean tiles, she ventured out of the bathroom, her mind already occupied with the tasks that lay ahead. Making her way to the closet, she retrieved her night pajamas, her fingers grazing over the soft fabric. Before slipping into the comfortable attire, she reached for the vanity near the closet, gently applying moisturizer on her face, a ritual that brought her a sense of tranquility.

Satisfied with her appearance, she spared a final glance at herself in the mirror, the reflection of a determined woman staring back. With a resolute nod, she left her bedroom, her steps carrying her towards the lobby where her phone and earpiece awaited. Settling herself on a kitchen bar stool, she retrieved her phone, noting the missed calls and unread emails that had accumulated during her absence.

Her gaze fell upon the screen, revealing 14 missed calls from Warren and 2 from the hospital, accompanied by 6 unread emails and 2 unknown numbers. The curiosity tugged at her, urging her to investigate further. She decided to address the hospital calls first, dialing the number and waiting anxiously for someone to pick up on the other end. The voice of a nurse greeted her, and she inquired about the progress and condition of the person she cared deeply for.

Satisfied with the update, she proceeded to respond to the emails, swiftly typing out replies with practiced efficiency. Just as she was about to move on to the next task, her attention was drawn to the unknown number that had called twice. With a hint of curiosity mingled with caution, she dialed the number, her heart thudding in anticipation.

The call was answered by a composed female voice, polite and professional. "Hello, how may I help you?" she inquired.

"Hello, am I speaking to Celia Ferrari?" the voice asked, a tinge of urgency evident in its tone.

"Yes, you are," Celia confirmed, her curiosity piqued.

"I wanted to know if by any chance you're available for tomorrow's evening. We would like to hire you for a private event, and we are prepared to offer you a generous compensation," the woman explained, her words carrying a sense of purpose.

Celia hesitated for a moment, her mind already filled with plans for the following evening. "I'm sorry, but I have already committed to something for tomorrow evening," she replied, a hint of regret in her voice.

"Ms. Ferrari, we truly desire your presence at this event. Please try to understand," the woman pleaded, desperation seeping into her words.

"May I know who is hosting this event?" Celia inquired, curiosity getting the better of her.

"It is Mr. Vincent Romano. And I implore you to reconsider, as declining this offer may have consequences for me. Please, try to understand," the woman pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation.

Celia's mind raced, considering the possibilities and implications. A decision formed, and she spoke with unwavering resolve, "Please relay this message to Mr. Romano: I stand by my word, and if he requires entertainment, he may seek it from the Night Saint Club. As for your job, it would be unwise for your boss to think that I would change my mind. Thank you, and have a good night." With that, Celia ended the call, her determination unyielding.

Plugging her phone into the charger, she moved on to the next task at hand-preparing a quick meal for herself. The rhythmic sounds of chopping and sizzling filled the kitchen as she skillfully whipped up a nourishing dish. With her hunger satisfied and the dishes washed, she retired to her bed, her mind buzzing with the anticipation of the surprise visit she had planned for the following day.

****

In another part of the city, Vincent Romano found himself seated in a plush office chair, engaged in a conversation with a man of significance. The topic at hand was his upcoming trip to Mexico, a matter that Vincent seemed reluctant to pursue.

"Tomorrow. Are you not coming along?" the man inquired, his tone laced with curiosity.

"No, I have other matters to attend to," Vincent replied evasively, a well-crafted lie slipping effortlessly from his lips.

"May I inquire about the nature of these matters that would prompt you to forgo our scheduled trip to Mexico?" the man pressed, a hint of suspicion coloring his words.

"I'm not feeling well," Vincent fabricated, his voice tinged with feigned weakness. "You can take Delrico with you; he has already finalized the deal and would be of more assistance in my absence. Besides, I have a meeting with the Russians in two days. It would be tiresome for me to fly to Mexico and then return within 24 hours. Consider it a favor for me," he reasoned, his words calculated to appease.

The man's gaze hardened, his expression grave. "The invitations have already been sent, and the wedding is in three weeks," he revealed, his tone laden with a sense of responsibility.

"I am well aware of the timing, and Mom is eager to welcome her," Vincent responded fervently, concealing the turmoil within him. Little did the man know that his impending actions would lead to his demise if the truth were to be uncovered, his infidelity towards his sister.

"Have you made the necessary preparations for the position?" the man asked, redirecting the conversation to business matters.

"Everything is already in place," Vincent assured him, a sly smile dancing on his lips.

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the shrill ring of Vincent's phone. Grateful for the distraction, he excused himself from the room, stepping out into the corridor to take the call in privacy.

"Speak," Vincent commanded, his voice laced with authority.

"Sir, she said that she has already been hired for an event, and despite our best efforts to convince her, she declined the offer," his assistant relayed, her voice tinged with hesitation.

"Ask Matteo to find out the location where she'll be performing tomorrow, and gather any information you can about her personal life. I want every detail about her within the next two hours. Failure to do so will result in both you and Matteo meeting an untimely demise," Vincent threatened, his words dripping with menace.

The assistant breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that she had refrained from calling him a fool, as Celia Ferrari had done just moments before.

If only they knew what Vincent had planned for her at tomorrow's event...

****

The next day, Celia found herself standing outside room 427 of a hospital. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptics, and the sound of beeping machines filled the corridor. After a brief discussion with his doctor to assess his progress, Celia entered the room, a bouquet of flowers and a box of breakfast in her hands. She greeted the nurse who was arranging the patient's meal and requested a moment alone with him.

As the nurse left the room, Celia approached the patient, a small smile gracing her face. He sat near the window in a wheelchair, his gaze fixed on the bustling city beyond.

"So, your highness has graced me with her presence," he remarked, his forest green eyes still focused on the outside world. His jaw adorned with a shadow of stubble, and his curly hair cascaded onto his forehead, partially obscuring his perfect brows.

"Are you angry?" Celia asked innocently, her eyes blinking twice as she moved toward the coffee table. Placing the bouquet on the table, she began arranging the breakfast for him.

"Why would a helpless man like me be angry at his highness? And why did you bring those flowers? I'm not dead." he retorted, his frustration evident.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I know I'm late this time, but believe me, I was busy. And as for the flowers, they are not just meant for the deceased. They symbolize concern, good health, and prosperity for our loved ones," Celia explained sweetly, though her nonchalance remained intact.

"Why didn't you call me when you reached home? I waited for two fucking hours to talk to you, and you were too busy to even let me know when you would be free or say a simple 'hi.' What the actual fuck do you think you're doing?" he exploded, his frustration boiling over.

"Little warrior, you shouldn't curse so much; it's not good for you. And for your information, I am your junior, remember?" Celia retorted, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. She knew all too well that he despised that particular term.

"Stop calling me your little warrior. I'm 27, for God's sake. Have some respect, junior," he countered, his tone tinged with exasperation.

"Respect? Look who's talking about respect-the person who curses in every single sentence," Celia taunted, her tone laced with amusement. "And as for your age, you may be 50 for all I care, but your behavior is less mature than any child. Grow up mentally, Mr. Little Warrior."

"I wish I could kill you," he muttered, his frustration evident.

"Then your lady would kill you for that," Celia quipped, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Sometimes I wonder who is dating whom. I suspect you both are cheating on me with your innocent faces. Tell me honestly, are you both together?" he questioned, his voice tinged with suspicion.

"You know what? You don't need a hospital anymore," Celia advised, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. I should get discharged today. Hmm?" he responded, a smile playing on his lips.

"Because now you need a mental asylum," Celia asserted, her voice filled with playful banter.

Their conversation continued, a blend of teasing and bantering, as they savored the breakfast together, relishing the moments of lightness amidst the challenges they faced.

"They advised you to discharge you after two days," she informed him while throwing the waste in the dustbin and cleaning the coffee table with a wipe.

"I know, the nurse informed me about it," he answered while stretching his arms. After spending some more time with him she bid him her goodbye.

And booked a taxi to go to her apartment and practice for the last time for today's event. After reaching her apartment, she got a call from the manager of the event.

"Ms. Ferrari we're really sorry. But you don't have to come today there are some issues we are facing right now and cancelling all the dancers for today's event. Have a good day," before she could ask some questions he disconnected the call. She was just making her way towards her bedroom when suddenly her phone start ringing. Unknown number.

"Hello?"

Ms. Ferrari, Are you still not available for the evening?" she heard the same voice of the female from the night. It was not hard to understand this, and put two and two together.

"I'll charge desirely"

"Sure, no problem for us."

"Where? And the exact timing." Celia asked.

"We'll send the driver, you just have to get ready by six."

"Ok."

Two can play the game.