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Everything becomes blurry as I’m dragged away from my basket full of holiday cheer. Double doors open into a back room that’s dark. I try desperately to hold onto consciousness, but the blackness closes in fast.
Daylight flashes as another door is opened. I’m shoved into the back seat of a car that speeds away. One of the men is in the seat with me, and he begins tying up my hands and feet. “Let them know we have her.”
Who has me?
The only thing that keeps me from giving up is the fact that my husband is the most powerful man in the city, and I know he will turn this town upside down to find me. And those who have taken me will die horrible deaths.
I have no pity for the people who have dared to kidnap me. I want them to pay. I want my husband to rip them limb from limb for what they’ve done.
Even though I brought up the danger I’m in and how it might not be a good idea to have a baby right now, I can’t be angry with Carlo for sending me out on a shopping spree anyway. I couldn’t have stayed hidden inside the mansion forever. This was bound to happen.
When someone wants to kidnap a person, there isn’t any real way to stop it from happening. If these people got to me inside a public place with security of its own and the men my husband sent to guard me, then they could have gotten me inside our home.
There is and never was any way out of this situation. Sometimes, things just have to happen. Sometimes, things just have to be dealt with. This must be faced, and these people must be dealt with.
“Text her that we’re fifteen minutes away,” I hear the man near me say. “Tell her to have the room ready. We’ll slip in the east entrance. No one can know she’s there.”
Although my brain is falling into a deep, dark fog, I know that whoever has kidnapped me has been planning this for some time. It has to be my father.
Carlo will know it’s him, and he will come to the Barone mansion and rip up everything until he finds me. He won’t stop until he gets me back. And he will kill everyone who tries to get in his way. My father has no idea how dead he is now.
Something about what the man said makes me wonder if I’m right about it being my father who’s had me kidnapped. The man said the word her. He said to text her that they were fifteen minutes away.
Women have no power in the Mafia. None.
I see the man who’s driving hold up his cell phone, showing the man sitting with me in the back the return message. When he opens his mouth, I see something odd, and the guttural noise he makes doesn’t sound like any words I’ve heard before.
“What happened to his tongue?” I ask, now seeing it’s only a stub rather than a full tongue.
“The boss cut it off when this one said some things he shouldn’t have,” the man in back with me lets me know.
“Good God,” I mumble, fearing the very worst now. “Is that something he does a lot of, cutting people’s appendages off?”
The two of them laugh instead of answering my question. I don’t like it at all. I don’t like any of this. Of course, there’s nothing about kidnapping that’s designed to be liked.
If the person behind this is my biological father, I really do come from a monstrous bloodline. But I remind myself that the man said her and not him. So, it can’t be my father, and that riddles me with confusion and anguish.
Who would face the wrath of the Vietti family just so they could take me? It can’t be a Mafia family.
And that means everywhere my husband looks for me won’t be the right place. He’ll accuse my father. He’ll accuse all the other Mafia bosses. And he’ll be wrong.
He might not find me!
The last remnants of light fade. I can’t see anything, and what I hear becomes fainter until I can’t see or hear a thing as I fall victim to whatever they shot me up with.
Please find me, Carlo!
Chapter 15
Carlo
A visit to the barbershop is just what I needed to smooth out the annoyances of this morning. If a man needs one thing in his life, it’s a good barbershop where he can renew and refresh himself, especially when you run the kind of business I do. Luigi has never let me down.
I go up to the bedroom to find no one guarding the door. “Hey!” I call out, but no one says anything back to me. I know they have to be back from shopping by now.
My men know there is always to be at least one man at this door at all times. The fact that nothing has happened to her so far must have had them flaking off. But that won’t work for me.
First, though, I want to talk to my wife and go into the bedroom. “Isabella, baby?”
