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Chapter Twenty-Three
Bitsy was overwhelmed by the painful memory and placed her hand affectionately on Drake’s cheek. The light and love of a mother shone through her eyes. Regardless of paternity, Drake would always be her son. It was painful for her and her husband to lose their loving boy only to have the hardened shell of a man return in his place.
“What happened to Juliana?” Alessandra asked.
“Juliana used my name on her paperwork from the very beginning. There was no record of her pregnancy. I kept a picture of Juliana on the beach. Maybe I can show you one day?” Bitsy floated away back to those days as she recounted the tale.
Alessandra nodded. “I’d like that.”
“I was present at the birth. Juliana suffered from severe pre-eclampsia and developed a postpartum hemorrhage. She begged me to take Drago and protect him. What choice did I have but to honor my sister’s final wishes?
“Richard and I adopted Drake. We are legally his parents on his birth certificate. I wouldn’t have made any other choice. Julianna was my sister; Drake is my son. It isn’t uncommon, but the stakes were high in our case. Blood doesn’t make a family—love does. We’re family, no matter what.”
“But Drake eventually discovered the truth?”
“We planned on telling him when he was a man. Sixteen was too young to take our son away,” Mrs. Walker sniffed.
“What do you mean?” It was time to give Alessandra the missing puzzle piece.
The adoption secret shocked Drake to his core. Discovering Bitsy and Richard weren’t really his parents blew his whole fucking world apart. While they had given him the best life they could, it would take years for him to find it in his heart to reconcile with them.
His mom and dad were with Beth at her recital and planned to bring dinner to the hospital for a family meal if Drake wasn’t discharged by the evening. Instead of his parents, two gorillas in black suits showed up in his hospital room. They said his father had sent them, but Drake knew that was a lie.
One goon knocked him out before he realized what was happening. When he came to, he was on a plane to Italy. Drake was scared shitless but determined not to show it. He put on a brave face and threatened the greasy-haired guido with everything in his arsenal.
“Do you know who my parents are? You’re going to be sorry, shit brain!”
But the goons just laughed. “Little baby with his milk teeth thinks he can threaten us.”
“Wait until he gets in front of the boss. He’ll soil his underpants.”
Drake jumped up and raised his fist, but the guido stood and sneered at him. His opponent was far from weak, and Drake’s anger wasn’t strength. Guido, whom Drake heard the ape call Lorenzo, stalked up to him unhurriedly, making the teen squirm. He lorded over Drake menacingly.
“Sit your pansy ass down before I knock you out,” Lorenzo said.
“Enzo wanted you delivered to Italy. He never said anything about your condition upon arrival.” The larger of the two goons cracked his knuckles menacingly.
“We have five hours of flight time left. I’m going to head to the room and jerk off. Watch this fucker and make sure he stays out of trouble.” Guido disappeared down the corridor, and the door slam echoed around the cabin.
With hours of flight time and nothing better to do, Drake finally took in his surroundings. The white interior of the private jet was trimmed with polished wood. He followed the swirls in the plush carpet with his eyes until he felt dizzy. Two seats faced each other over a stationary round table, providing an intimate eating nook.
He was begrudged to admit the leather seats were surprisingly comfortable. Even the large, dumb ape sitting across from him had room to spread his legs. Drake didn’t want to keep looking at the big, dumb ox, so he laid on the sofa. Soon he succeeded in falling asleep.
They touched down in an airfield and were immediately ushered into a waiting car. He was forced into the backseat between Guido and the ape while they man-spread, making it uncomfortable as a muscular and fat thigh pressed against him. The driver spoke to Guido in Italian with a grim expression and paid Drake no attention, which suited him well during the hours-long drive.
They pulled through tall wrought-iron gates with two armed guards stationed in a gatehouse. The secluded villa sat atop a steep hill with a rolling vineyard as far as the eye could see. For a moment, Drake pretended he was on vacation and not kidnapped.
Armed guards approached the car as it stopped at the top of the circular drive. They carried holstered pistols on their belts and submachine guns slung over their shoulders. They clearly meant business, and Drake realized he wouldn’t be leaving on his own accord.
The large doors opened outward in a show of pageantry. A tall, rugged, middle-aged man wearing a linen button-down shirt, white chinos, and loafers barked orders at those around him. His tan skin cracked around his narrowed eyes, and his jaw tightened as he looked Drake over.
Drake felt like a piece of meat at the man’s appraisal. Was he looking for himself or Juliana in the boy? Drake was disgusted as the man descended the stone steps to greet him.
“Welcome home, Drago.” He swept his arms in a baseless gesture.
“This isn’t my home—” Drake began.
Guido cracked him immediately.
