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Massimo closed the distance between himself and his mother and wrapped his arms around her. Romina collapsed into him. All the fears and anxieties she felt, all the concerns she had spilled out in liquid form. Massimo tried to console her the best he could. He held his mother until she calmed down enough to stand on her own feet.
Just then, the doorbell rang. The butler moved toward the door as Massimo and then his mother stepped out into the hallway. There was a quiet exchange at the door, and then the butler walked over to Massimo.
“For you, sir.”
Giuseppe and his father heard the doorbell ring, and given the time, they made their way to the hallway as well. As soon as they saw the letter in Massimo’s hand, all eyes focused on it. They watched as Massimo opened the envelope. He looked inside. Inside was a card.
“Read it aloud, son,” Giordano encouraged. He didn’t want to wait until his son read it first. He needed to know what it said so he would know what to do; at least, he hoped that was his response.
Massimo did what his father suggested. He inhaled deeply and blew out slowly as he pulled out the card.
4598 Columbus Lane.
Come alone.
If you are not here within twenty minutes, they die. And then I’ll still kill you and the rest of your family.
There was silence. No one immediately reacted because they didn’t know how to react. Then, his father stepped into action, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone.
“Dad, no! Wait!” Massimo insisted as he reached for his father’s phone, but Giordano snatched it away.
“I am going to call for some help. You figure out how long it's going to take you to get to the address. You can’t be late.”
Massimo considered arguing with his father, but time was ticking. He had to go.
“Okay, I’m going to help Dad figure it out, and we’ll be there,” Giuseppe said.
“Giuseppe,” Massimo uttered, his mind filled with all kinds of things that connected but didn’t connect.
“You can’t talk us out of it, big brother. We’re coming.”
They didn’t give him any choice. But he had to go. He had to get there on time. Massimo moved toward the door and took a moment to look back at his mother. She looked dejected and worried. Tears still stained her cheeks.
“Mom, I have to do this. I have to.”
Massimo had to leave. He checked his watch as he made it to his car. Minutes had already passed. Massimo jumped in the car, turned on the ignition, and threw the car in drive. He wasn’t mindful of the speed limit. He had to meet the deadline.
Costanza had tried to be patient with her son, to give him the necessary time to decompress, to deescalate so that they could talk and make a plan. But Francesco had avoided her all night.
“What have you come up with?” Costanza asked after finding her son in the den.
Francesco was unresponsive, not even lifting his eyes to see his mother. Hearing her was enough to get his blood immediately boiling again.
Costanza could tell from her son’s posture that he was still angry, but time was running out.
“We need a plan, Francesco,” she suggested, trying to present as more docile than she really was. “Any moment now, Massimo will find out where they are. Do you think we will, too?”
“I don’t know.”
His response was so flat, so emotionless, that it caught Costanza off guard. More than that, he failed to respond to her more pleasant disposition.
“At least we should make contact with the Ricci’s and ask them to reveal the address once Massimo gets it,” she suggested. “What do you think?”
Asking the question was new for Costanza, and she hoped Francesco would pay attention to it. He thought about her question, pushing past the things that plagued his thoughts. He’d been a basket case since the moment he received the notification that he would not be involved in rescuing his wife. But how was she supposed to be saved? Alessandro made no promises of their release upon resolving the issue with Massimo. Even if he did, Francesco knew he would be a fool to believe the man outright. He’d taken them in the first place. He’d done nothing to convince Francesco that he was trustworthy. He’d done everything to prove he was the opposite.
“That sounds like a good idea,” Francesco said, lifting his frame from his seat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He walked out of the room without a second glance. He could only abide his mother for so long before he lost it, and now was not the time to lose the little cool he had left.
