Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes.

A/N: This chapter has a slightly AU feel. It is not meant to be AU, but just my attempt to explain what happened.

Also, it's 12:10 am here, so technically Monday. I thought I'd post this now. Thanks so much for sticking with me everyone!

…

FromChapter21:

I felt flickers of pain now. Quick flutters that were gone before I registered them as such. A low hum buzzed behind my eyes. Pulsing, penetrating. It grew and grew until I was in such agony I cried out, my voice echoing in the void around me. I was floating in nothing, no, I was falling. Fast. The intensity built up until I couldn't stand it any longer and shut down completely, letting go of everything I'd told myself to hold onto.

…

Chapter 22

All was quiet and I realized I was asleep. A deep, scary sleep. The kind you never wake from. I wasn't in a room, more like a strange place. It was stark, surreal, ethereal, and just plain freaky white. Then, from somewhere in front of me, I saw a faint smudge. I squinted, but couldn't make out what it was. I raised my hand to rub at it, but it wasn't something I could physically touch.

As I watched, the smudge grew and grew until I noticed it was moving. Near the bottom, the white flickered in and out. I stared hard, trying to see what it could be when I realized very clearly that I was staring at legs. Legs walking, step by step, closer and closer to me. I blinked harder and saw arms swinging forward and back. The smudge was a person. A woman.

The hum pulsed again and suddenly she was standing in front of me. She was me, but different. Camila. I closed my eyes and opened them, but she was still there, staring at me. She held up her hand, but I stepped back. Somehow I knew it was very, very important for me not to touch her.

"It's my turn," she said. I felt myself weakening as the pulse surged and she seemed to grow brighter. I knew this place wasn't real. Hell, she wasn't real, but somehow here the two of us were. She wasn't expecting any resistance and I was full on ready for a property dispute. My body, my life. Fighting was my only option.

"No." I deliberately spoke English. I had to hold onto to me. Stephanie Plum, American. First language, English.

She frowned. "But we must."

I felt the pulse die down again and felt a surge of strength and straightened my shoulders. "We can't."

Camila looked upset. "Luca is waiting for me. I have to survive."

I felt like laughing and crying all at once. Her last thoughts had stuck with her. I would have thought maybe she would have been a part of me, that her memories would have moved with mine and she'd have understood. That wasn't the case at all. She was stuck in her own experience, her own existence. It was all too strange, but I knew, without a doubt, Camila wasn't as desperate as me and it was time she understood just how it was going to be.

"Adriano is waiting. If you go back, he'll kill you. Kill me."

Her hand faltered, but then rose again as the surge of energy renewed her strength. I held strong against the weakness, willing myself to combat the urge to sleep that suddenly seemed so powerful. "Adriano?"

"Yes."

Panic filtered through the smooth façade of her face. "I have to go to him if he wants me. It will be worse if I disobey."

"You don't have to obey him. Seppe is trying to kill him. For hurting you—hurting us. If you go, you give him back all the power." This woman was starting to annoy me. I wanted to tell her to grow some balls.

It dawned on me, then, that Camila never had any strength of her own. What little she'd gained had always been me trying to break through and take over. From the start of this whole mess. I didn't remember it exactly, but I felt the old struggle, the feeling that I had to keep trying to get back to myself. I couldn't explain my certainty if someone wanted me to prove it, but I knew I was right. The woman, or strange creation, in front of me was a pawn to be commanded, not a person with real emotions. Those had been mine. Had I been more aware of that life than I thought?

I straightened my shoulders and shoved aside the last vestiges of weakness, my resolve gaining strength over the ebb and flow of the pulse. It was time I did a little commanding. "Camila, you're not going to Adriano."

"I have—"

"You are not going to Adriano. I will, because I can fight him."

Her blue eyes stared at me, unblinking. Then she sighed and said, "No more Adriano?" Progress. She spoke in English.

"No more Adriano. You'll never have to deal with him again."

"But you?"

I nodded. "I will. He's a scary guy, but I can do this."

She sat down, criss-crossed her legs, and stared into the vast sea of white nothing. A tear slid down her cheek from the corner of her eye. "Okay. Thank you." She looked at me and nodded, accepting the inevitable. "But…"

"What?"

"Perhaps I can still help."

I narrowed my eyes slightly.

"My memories. I'll remember for you, for both of us. You'll know what he wants. It's all I have left to give."

Relief came out in a long, slow breath. Without touching her—because I still thought that was a bad idea—I took a step closer and crouched down until I was at her eye level. "Thank you."

She nodded and stood. A small smile graced her face. She looked gentle, serene. I fought to keep myself from shaking my head. Those were two words I'd never have attributed to myself, and yet, she'd made my face look very convincing at both. I raised myself up to standing again and watched her walk away from me, fading into the white as if she were a part of it. I took a deep breath and looked around. Now how the hell did I get out of here?

…

Sometimes when you wake up, everything happens at once. When I woke, I realized, first, that I was Stephanie Plum and Camila was gone for good. Next, I noticed that the pain was gone—thank God!— as well as the probes and wires. This was it. Adriano was here, waiting to kill Camila.

I breathed in and out a few times to prepare myself for the confrontation, and then I opened my eyes to see Adriano leaning very close to me, scrutinizing me. Instinctively, I knew he had to believe I was Camila. I pulled out my own blank face, the Camila one, from somewhere in the depths of my ass and plastered it on my face to greet him.

"Hello, Adriano."

He stared for a second longer and then broke out into the familiar condescending grin. "Hello, Camila. How are you?"

"Sore and stiff. What happened? Why am I on this table?" The words came from inside me. I didn't know if I'd had enough dreams of these nice chats or if Camila was guiding me, but right now, I believed the latter was true.

His eyes turned hard. "You escaped death, but you won't this time."

I kept my face calm while trying to look completely intimidated and defeated. "I've disappointed you."

Adriano sat on the edge of the table and started to unbuckle the strap over my chest, letting his fingers graze my breasts. I clamped down on my disgust and forced myself to keep my reactions at bay. I had to be Camila to convince him. "We'll see if you can make it up to me."

There was no way I was going to make anything up to this guy, but I needed to be free in order to get away from him for good. Adriano looked up at the doctor. "Leave us. Ronaldo will drive you home." I really hoped Ronaldo was cell phone guy because, if not, that meant there was someone else lurking around here.

Dr. Spreng turned to the machine and started to pack it up and Adriano barked, "I said leave us. You'll get your precious machine back. I'm impatient to finish this."

Clearly shaken and afraid, the doctor dropped everything onto the cart and walked briskly toward the door, slipping through and shutting it behind him. Adriano finished unbuckling me and then helped me stand. I wanted to cover myself, but knew he'd get angry. I needed him calm. Besides, if he started his abusive crap, I couldn't be sure I'd hold onto my temper and I'd blow my own cover.

He looked at me for a minute, eyes lingering over my most self-conscious areas, and then he turned and walked to a door on the wall to my left. It was a closet, and inside, a single dress hung. Blood red. Great.

"Put this on."

I looked at the dress, then glanced at him and slipped the dress off the hanger, pulling it over my head. I looked down to arrange it over my body, trying to hide the fact that I was naked beneath it, and then up to await his instructions.

"Good. Come to the kitchen."

He led me through the door the doctor had used and out to the large great room. Everything was the same, except Marco was gone. I felt a pang in my chest, but shoved it aside. We'd have to find his body later. I had to get through this. Ranger wasn't going to lose me twice. I wasn't going to let this bastard win.

"What is this place, Adriano?"

"It is a place I bought for us when you agreed to marry me."

What a liar, I thought. "Oh. I never knew."

He turned around, gritting his teeth. "Did you even care to know, Camila? Or were you too hung up on Luca to notice anything I did for you?"

Whoa. Wasn't expecting that. I looked down, guessing that he didn't expect a response from me and I was right. He grunted and turned toward the kitchen. When we got to the sink, he gestured toward the espresso machine. What a freak.

I expertly made the blessed drink and truly believe Camila helped me because my hands were steady and I made it as quickly and efficiently as a seasoned barista. I felt pretty proud about it as I poured the hot coffee into a small cup, set it on a saucer, and gently handed it to him. The urge to throw it in his face again was strong and I had to grit my teeth to maintain my calm.

He sipped and smiled, a crazy, scary smile. I knew he was off balance, but the look on his face completely clinched it. "No one makes this like you, Camila."

"Thank you, Adriano."

He took another sip and said. "Do you remember the first time we met?"

Now I knew Camila was helping me, and that we had a real connection since our talk, because a brief flash of the two of us in Seppe's kitchen, which I had never seen as Stephanie, filled my mind. I'd made espresso for him.

"Yes. I made espresso for you."

He sipped again. "I wonder if you know why I want to kill you."

I met his gaze and said, "Because I was inconsiderate of your love and treated you as if you were beneath me." That definitely had not come from me. I felt like I was having an out of body experience and I wasn't sure I really believed in out of body experiences.

He nodded, sipping his espresso. "You're smart for a woman who acts so stupid."

My head lowered, eyes on the floor, I said, "I'm sorry I never returned your feelings. I tried."

"You never tried! What you tried to do was see your lover any chance you got. I knew on New Year's Eve everything had changed. I wanted to be everything to you, I tried to be. You kissed him and never looked at me the same again. You didn't try to do anything but forget me."

I shook my head. "It's not true. You were never pleased with anything I did. Always trying to improve me from the start. Trying to make me act the way you thought I should act. Later, insulting me, telling me I needed to be healthier, criticizing my child. I could never match up to your ideal woman, Adriano."

He walked close to me and circled my neck with his long fingers, pressing inward enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to hurt. Yet. "Because it didn't matter what I did, you would never want me the way you wanted him."

"No. I never would have looked at him if you'd just been nice to me. You demanded and spoke harshly when I didn't meet your expectations." I spoke calmly, trying to keep him from losing control. I didn't want him to strangle me.

Adriano released my neck and pulled a gun from his jacket pocket. He pointed it at my heart. "You'll pay for what you did. I was prepared to love you for life, and you turned your back on me. And then, to make matters worse, you denied me the chance to be a father. It was the one good thing I had left to give you."

The surprises kept coming. Not only had he loved Camila, at least until he'd found out that she wasn't real, but he'd truly wanted to be Carlo's father. And now he wanted Camila dead because he couldn't face the pain she'd caused him? Or was it pride? My mind spun through thought after thought. All I knew was that I wanted my hands on that gun.

Suddenly, I knew how to get his attention. I sank to my knees, and lowered my eyes to the floor, completely submissive. "Please," I whispered. "If you want me to die, I accept that." I let my voice tremble, hoping his narcissistic mind was too egotistical to suspect my ulterior motive. "Let me make it right, let me do it for you." I could see he was going to say no and I rushed on. "I want to give you one last gift. Something truly worthy of your love."

The gun lowered and he took a step toward me, holding out his hand. I slipped my hand inside and stood. I was trembling, but I hoped he'd take it as a sign of my weakness and not as the surge of adrenaline pumping through my blood.

He surprised me by putting his arms around me and hugging me against his chest tenderly. A shudder pulsed through him. "I wish it could be another way, Camila. I can't trust you or let you live. It would burn me."

"I know." I pulled back and looked up into his eyes with enough sincerity to make it believable. He took my shoulders in a gentle grip and turned me, pulling me against his chest, back to front. This time, he raised the gun with his left hand and lifted my right hand, setting the flesh-heated metal in my palm. I wrapped my fingers around the hard steel and took a calming breath, trying to make it sound like a sigh.

I put my left hand around his and he slid it out from under to let me grip the gun with both hands, then placed his hands over mine. Crap, this wouldn't work. I'd been so close to having it all to myself. He pushed our hands up, up, until the gun was pressed against the sensitive skin beneath my chin. The tender way he touched me made me realize he'd told the truth. Perhaps he'd fallen in love with Camila and wanted to keep her, but she'd already given her heart to another man. She certainly hadn't tried to hurt him, but she also hadn't tried to love him. She couldn't.

His lips brushed my ear as he whispered. "I'll answer one question for you before you die, Camila. What do you want to know?"

I didn't even have to think about it. "Why did you kill my son?"

"I didn't kill him. He was stolen." He slid his hands down so they rested on my wrists.

Stolen? "But who?"

"You were allowed only one question, Camila, and it no longer matters. Do it now." He dropped his hands away and rested them lightly on top of my shoulders, pressing a kiss to my hair.

It was my chance. I whirled around, fast, gun aimed straight at his heart, taking a large step back. "Who took my son, you bastard?"

Surprise and then rapid fury crossed his features. "You bitch!" He breathed heavily like a bull exhausted from the game of chase, ready to charge.

"Camila wasn't real, Adriano. But I am. Where is my kid?"

He shook his head, smiling. "No, I won't tell you that." I kept my eyes hard on his face. His muscles tensed and I knew he was going to spring any second.

I braced myself and tried to look tougher than I felt. No matter what he'd done, I was about to shoot to kill and I didn't want to think about it too much. I couldn't afford to hesitate. "I don't need you anyway, Adriano. I've got a real man in my life who's more than capable of finding him. You're obviously more than handicapped in that area." I lowered my eyes to his crotch. "As well as others."

His face grew fierce and he spit when he spoke again. "I'm going to kill you, gun or not." He rushed toward me and I squeezed the trigger. A red stain formed in the center of his chest, but he didn't stop. I was too shocked to shoot again. He grabbed the gun, twisted it out of my hands. I clawed at him, pushed his hands away from me and locked mind around his wrist, trying to keep him from pointing it at me.

Teeth clenched, he hissed out a breath and groaned, his arms going slack. We fell and the gun went off. Pain arced through my whole body from the impact and then settled in my shoulder. I lay on the floor beneath Adriano who was completely still, a dead weight on top of me.