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“Malik,” he scolds. “The day I find the brothers, you won’t be coming with me. Believe me on that. This note is from Viktor, I know it. Aleksei is too stupid to set a trap for us.”
His patience is getting shorter by the minute, and I sense something else is bothering him.
“What’s wrong?”
He can’t reply. That noise we heard comes back. Fuck, I’d completely forgotten about that. Facing a corpse will do that to you.
Sam and I look around, pushing heavy furniture out of the way. He finds the source first, and he’s not happy. I hear it through the very distinct ‘bloody hell’ that comes out of his mouth.
In a dark corner of the big room, a girl is tied to a chair the same way Mattia is. Except she’s alive. Her shoulder-length pitch black hair is messed up and tangled, stuck to the sweat on her face. She’s gagged and blindfolded, but apart from that, she looks like she hasn’t been touched. Her clothes are intact, with no traces of blood. She’s sobbing through the gag, the noise we could hear. Tears cover her cheeks, snot and sweat on her lips.
Sam takes her blindfold off, and wide brown eyes look at us, terror causing them to dance between the two of us and the rest of the room.
The girl screams through the gag, more tears coming out of her eyes when Sam pulls out his knife. She fights against the zip ties aimlessly.
“Luna, you’re fine. It’s me, Sam,” he reassures her.
So that’s Luna. Mattia’s infamous apprentice. She calms down as soon as she hears his voice. She recognizes the British accent she must have only ever heard through a phone.
Sam cuts her binds and the rope holding a cloth that’s been forced into her mouth. She coughs and gags, her cries now loud in the room. That’s the reaction of someone who’s never been kidnapped before. Surprising for someone who works so closely with the Cosa Nostra.
Sam is careful with her, delicately helping her to a standing position and dusting her off.
“Is anything hurting?” he asks softly. Why does he care so much?
She shakes her head, sniffling and running her forearm against her eyes to wipe oncoming tears.
“I want Vito,” she sobs, seemingly incapable of stopping her desperate cries.
Sam takes a deep breath, runs his knuckles against his jaw, and nods. “Yes, I assumed so. I’m going to call him in a minute.”
Her face twists as she falls back on the chair, her head dropping into her hands. “I can’t believe it…he’s…he’s dead.” I notice the Italian accent in her voice. It’s strong, like she grew up there.
“Who was it, Luna?”
“The Wolves,” she cries out. “Who else?!”
“I meant…who was it exactly?”
“I do not know, Samuel.Youput us in this situation.Youshould know!”
“Did they find you at Mattia’s place?”
She nods, wiping more tears. “It is one of Vito’s safehouses. I do not know how they find it.” Her accent elongates some of her vowels, her panic breaking her English slightly.
Sam pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck.”
“I want Vito,” she repeats desperately.
“Of course,” Sam nods. “I’ll call him.” He turns to me, and I hand him the burner phone he’d given me.
Before he can call, I pull him toward me. “Are we talking about Vito Luciano?” I check. Because I don’t understand why we would need to call the right arm of the Luciano organization for something as small as this situation. He ignores me, calling anyway.
The ringing resonates in the room as soon as Sam puts it on speaker. There’s a tension coming from him that I’m not sure I understand. I know it has nothing to do with the dead body because he’s seen too many to care.
“Samuel,” Vito’s voice is loud in the room, emotionless.
“Vito, ho paura. Vieni a prendermi. È successo qualcosa!” Luna screams.
