Chapter 32

• "What the fuck are you trying to tell me Massimo?!" His yells were distant, but I could still clearly make out the things he said. Same way I couldn't forget the look of shock on his face when he had seen me. He looked shocked, disappointed, clearly angry. It was at that moment that I felt the tears get released from my eyes. Throughout my journey to this island, all I have felt was fear. If not for anything, I was glad I could finally feel an emotion different from fear. It was relief. It hadn't taken me long to realize what had happened here. This was probably the suprise meant for miss Francesca. I had been taken by mistake. At that moment, being mistaken for miss Francesca was honestly the best thing I could think of. It was better than being chosen to die. My major relief was the fact that I was sure no one was going to hurt me.
• I zoned back into the present, as I watched Manuel Russo bark out orders from afar. I had only ever seen the comported and smart Manuel. This was the first time I was seeing an angry Manuel. He look appealing all the same. Though he would have been less appealing if his anger was directed towards me. I remained there as I silently watched him make several calls, walking to and fro the space where he stood. After what seemed like forever, he finally put his phone back in his pocket, and walked towards where I quietly sat. When he got to me, he just stood, probably at loss for words. I focused my eyes on my nails, sincerely too angry to even say a word. It was now I was finally able to arrange my thoughts and manage my emotions. I felt angry beyond words. Come to think of it, didn't they have miss Francesca's pictures? This was the kind of situation that someone would hear and call 'unrealistic'. It really was! Was this man trying to tell me that he had flown me across countries under the excuse of mistaken identity? Save for the identical hair and dress, I looked nothing like miss Francesca. I wanted to scream in his face, but nothing was forthcoming. Finally, I was able to say something, but not without the hot tears that accompanied the words.
• "Do you know the emotional and mental turmoil your men put me through?" My voice was shaky, as tears flowed down my face, but I could care less. At that moment, he wasn't 'Manuel Russo' to me, but a man who had wronged me. I had expected a lot of things, but not him looking away. It only provoked me that the man didn't even feel a tiny bit sorry for his actions. I waited for him to say something, but he didn't utter a word until I was done crying. The moment I cleaned off my tears, he spoke.