Page 127 of Thin Lives

He mostly tried to put his childhood and all the years he’d spent idolizing a monster out of his mind. Because that was what Affonso was—a monster. He’d treated Calisto like a little prince for two decades, all the while reminding Calisto’s mother—Affonso’s rape victim—what he would do to her child, should she defy him.

Calisto didn’t like to think about how naive he had been back then, or the things that had just seemed to fly right over his head. Without realizing he was doing it, he had betrayed his own mother for years.

Thinking about those things forced Calisto to re-evaluate situations and moments that probably hurt his mother the most as he grew up. Ways that Affonso had manipulated her, certain things he had done to keep Camilla in her place as he slowly took more and more control of Calisto’s life as he took him from her arms.

One memory stuck out in particular above the rest.

He’d been … maybe seven years old.

Affonso had shown up at his school, took Calisto out of classes early, and told him they would be spending the weekend together with a friend. Calisto hadn’t known what his uncle was talking about, and when he asked about his mother, Affonso brushed it off, saying Camilla wouldn’t mind. Calisto spent the weekend watching his uncle amuse himself with one of his many mistresses while he wandered through an unfamiliar penthouse apartment, getting into all sorts of things throughout his exploration.

But when Affonso brought him home, Calisto distinctly remembered his mother’s panic and her fear. She’d practically crushed him with her hug, and she hissed and cussed at Affonso.

And Affonso?

He stood back with a smile and a shrug.

Like it was nothing.

At the time, Calisto had overlooked it. As an adult, after learning all that happened between his uncle and mother, he knew the truth.

Camilla never knew about that weekend. She had never given permission for Affonso to take Calisto. It had simply been yet another one of Affonso’s reminders for Camilla about what he could and would do regarding Calisto when and how he wanted. He could take Calisto from her without her even knowing until it was too late—and what would she do then?

It was simple, effective … and cruel.

Shaking his head to rid the memory, Calisto had another thought. It was just a passing question, but he wondered if there might be more to it.

Giovanni was right.

Calisto knew Affonso too well. The man was a creature of habit, and a lot of his habits revolved around women, and the secrets he kept with them.

“You look like you’re thinking terribly hard over there,” Giovanni said as he lit up another cigarette.

Calisto didn’t respond, just grabbed the phone in the middle console and dialed a familiar number. He hoped she wouldn’t be too pissed off at him because he hadn’t been answering her calls, but she might know—Emma might have the answer.

Emma picked up on the second ring. “Cal?”

“I might know where he would take Cross,” Calisto said, wanting to get that out before he explained anything else. “But you might know even more than me.”

Calisto glanced at the clock as Emma cried on the other end of the phone.

Time was running out again.

He knew it without being told.

“Help me find him,” Calisto said.

“What do you need?” Emma asked.

Everything.

But he’d take getting their son back.

Calisto

“Ever been here before?” Giovanni asked.

Calisto pressed the button for the floor they wanted to go to, and waited for the elevator doors to close. “No, but that’s only because this one managed to keep from getting pregnant, or she aborted whatever pregnancies she did have.”