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I see Lombardi’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly.
“Luciano will be here with the money. You’ll get your cut. And you’ll get the chance to make him pay for killing your brother in whatever way you want. Win win all round, just like we agreed,” says Lombardi, sounding more confident.
“Good. Because nobody crosses Sonny Ricci, you get me?”
“I get you,” replies Lombardi, tilting his chin upwards towards the taller man. “You go and open the shutter so we’re ready for the exchange and I’ll stay with the kid.”
My head reels and my stomach twists in shock. Stocky Guy is Sonny Ricci—Anthony Ricci’s brother?
Twenty
CECELIA
Michael is on his way to the warehouse to make the ransom drop and I’m stuck here, impotently waiting and praying for my son’s safe return. I wanted to accompany Michael, tried insisting that I would wait quietly in the car while he went inside, but he and Papa said no, that it was better for me to stay at home. I think we all knew I wouldn’t just be able to wait in the car, but I feel frustrated about it, nonetheless. The only positive is that Papa and Michael actually agreed on something for once.
As he left, I cried. I didn’t think I had any tears left in me but more came from a seemingly bottomless well, coursing down my raw, hot cheeks. I begged him to be careful, to bring our little boy home, then I kissed him and held him tightly, wishing I could cast a magic spell that would speed up time and bring my family back to me sooner. Although we haven’t talked about it, I suspect Michael will be blaming himself for the kidnapping, wondering if it might be connected to his past somehow, but I know that he would never put Micah at risk in any way. He did suggest getting security for us after this, and I must admit, I think that would be wise.
I understand from Michael and Papa that a private doctor gave Connie and me a sedative earlier. The hours following Connie coming home and telling us Micah had been taken, then getting the ransom demand are still a horrible blur, but I feel clearer now, able to think straight. And I have questions. So, it seems, does Papa.
I rejoin him and Connie in the sitting room as we wait for news from Michael, Papa in his fireside chair and Connie and I on separate couches. It’s less than an hour until midnight and Papa has sent an exhausted Maria to bed. My phone is on the coffee table right in front of me, next to the empty coffee pot and cups, ready to be snatched up as soon as Michael calls. All our nerves are frayed to breaking point.
“He won’t do anything to jeopardize this, will he?” asks Papa, splitting the stifling silence.
“What do you mean?” I ask, frowning.
“He was quite intent on involving his men earlier rather than simply making the ransom drop in exchange for Micah. Now he’s on his own he could be arranging an alternative plan.”
“Papa!” I cry. “Of course he’s not going to jeopardize his own son’s life! He’s going to do exactly what the kidnappers want to keep Micah as safe as possible, and out of respect for you. He could have fought you on how to deal with this, but he didn’t, even though he has as much say in Micah’s life as you do, if not more!” I press my lips together as soon as I’ve said the words, worried that I’ve gone too far, that I’ll wound him with the brutal truth. His reply surprises me.
“I do realize that, Cecelia,” he says quietly.
“Do you, Papa?” I ask.
“Yes. I can see that he is a good, loving father to Micah. I can see the love and emotional support you bestow on each other.” He leans forward, concern crossing his face. “But he’s a Mafia man, Cece. He has a past, dangerous connections. What if Micah’s kidnapping is an indirect result of something he has done? Don’t tell me you haven’t considered it.”
My eyes blaze. I want to scream and shout that it’s not, but I don’t know that for sure. And neither does Michael.
Papa softens his voice. “If something as traumatic as this is happening so soon into your relationship, who’s to say what else is going to happen in the future? I’m your father, Cecelia, I worry for you and it’s my job to keep you safe.”
Just like Michael says his job is to keep me safe. The two men in my life don’t realize how much they have in common. I wish they’d join forces rather than bash heads.
I hate that Papa is making sense, so I change tack, bringing the conversation away from Michael.
“And I suppose your version of keeping me safe is encouraging me to marry someone whose background you do know, like Raphael?”
“Well, yes,” he admits. “That is a match I would approve of. I’ve never made any secret of that, Cecelia. And neither has he.”
I ask him a question that’s been at the back of my mind since this afternoon, only elbowing its way to the forefront since I woke from the sedative.
“Why did Raphael come over earlier? He didn’t say. Did you ask him to again, Papa, like last time?”
“No, but I was very glad to see him. A calm, sensible head amongst the commotion. He’s always been there for you girls. Whatever his reason for visiting, it obviously didn’t matter in comparison to what was going on at the time,” replies Papa.
“Did you ask him to come, Connie?”
My sister is squashed into the corner of the couch biting her fingernail and staring at the floor. The blanket Maria fetched her earlier is still wrapped around her shoulders like a collared cape. She looks at me curiously, a hesitant rabbit peeping out of a warren, and I repeat the question. “No,” she answers, then pauses. “But he might have seen me coming home from the school. I took the route past his house.”
“But if he’d have seen you from his house, he would have come out to you, wouldn’t he, considering how injured and upset you were?” I ask.
