If I hadn't hidden Mila. If I hadn't lied. If I hadn't run 18 months ago, none of this would have happened.
The thought makes me feel sick.
A warm mug suddenly appears in front of me.
I blink.
Lindsay Vitale stands there. I feel underserving of the softness and kindness I glimpse in her blue eyes.
“It’s coffee,” she informs me.
I stare at the mug.
"I'm not sure I can stomach anything right now."
"Try anyway."
My fingers wrap around the mug. The warmth helps. A little.
"Thank you."
She sits beside me.
“You don’t have to thank me. I can only imagine how you feel right now. I’m a mother too and this is my worse nightmare,” she says gently.
I don’t know what to say to that.
"We'll find her."
The confidence in her voice nearly breaks me.
"You don't know that."
"No," she admits. "I don't."
Her hand finds mine.
"But I know that those men,” she gestures and my gaze drifts across the room. Toward Rafaelle and his brothers. “They’ll dowhatever it takes. They won’t stop until your daughter is back in your arms.”
My throat tightens. Tears gather behind my eyes. I feel so underserving of all of this. And while I know they’re fighting this hard because Mila is their flesh and blood, they didn’t even know she existed until a couple of hours ago thanks to me.
Shouting erupts downstairs. Immediately every head in the room snaps toward the door.
A second later one of the guards rushes inside. His expression tense.
"Boss,” he addresses Salvatore who from what I’ve been able to glean is the head of the family and the eldest as well.
"What is it?”
The guard hesitates.
“Santiago Navarro is at the door."
The room goes still. Dangerously still. The atmosphere shifts and every Vitale seems to become sharper, deadlier.
Rafaelle's smile is terrifying and predatory.
"Is that right?" he drawls.
