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For now, forgiving Caterina and understanding her motives for keeping all these secrets from me just isn’t on my list of priorities. I just need my daughter back. Too much of our time together has been stolen from me already.
Just then, the Whisper alerts us. “We’ve got him. Don Genovese is on his way to a private airport, with what appears to be an entourage of bodyguards and black cars.”
Ivan and I exchange a glance of understanding.
“The girls are probably with him,” Sergei states the obvious.
It’s time to act.
“Get your weapons ready, boys,” I command solemnly as I stand up. “We’re going to get them.”
Chapter 22 - Caterina
How long has it been? A few hours? A day? More? I’ve been stuck on this chair, blindfolded, without food and water. I imagine I’m in an abandoned warehouse. From the sounds of it, the way the door jars open, the lack of people around, I think I’m right.
My captivity has been anxiety-inducing. I still have no idea where Emiliana is. My father dumped me here, under the watch of his men, and left.
“Move,” a voice says, pulling me from my thoughts. The blindfold is rough against my skin as they uncuff my hands. I stand and they shove me forward, my heels catching on the uneven pavement. I stumble, hands grasping at the empty air in front of me, desperate for something to break my fall. Strong arms yank me upright, fingers digging painfully into my biceps. I bite my lip to keep from crying out.
The air is damp and heavy with the scent of the nearby ocean. It’s cold, so I think it’s late evening or maybe even night. Gulls cry out overhead, their shrieks echoing in the stillness. I have no idea where I am, only that I’m outside the warehouse now, being led to God knows where. Panic rises in my chest, tightening my throat. I want to scream, to fight, but I know it’s useless. I’m completely at their mercy.
I’m bundled into the back seat of a car, the leather squeaking beneath me. The door slams shut and I flinch at the finality of that sound. Rough hands grab my shoulders, pushing me down.
“Be still!” a gruff voice barks.
“Sorry,” I squeak.
My breath catches as a small hand slips into mine. “Mamma?” comes a trembling whisper.
“Emiliana!” Relief floods through me at the sound of my daughter’s voice. She’s here with me, not left behind. I squeeze her little hand tightly, a lifeline in this nightmare. As long as we’re together, there’s hope.
The car accelerates, engine rumbling. I cling to my daughter, smoothing back her hair. She sniffles, pressing close. My heart aches, imagining the fear in those big green eyes of hers. Eyes that remind me so much of…him.
“It will be alright, little one,” I murmur. “I promise.”
But who am I lying to?
The car slows and pulls to the side. Doors open and close. Footsteps crunch on gravel. My muscles tense, breath frozen in my lungs.
Rough hands grab my arms, hauling me from the back seat. I stumble, ankles twisting in the stupid heels they forced me to wear. Emiliana’s hand is ripped from mine and she cries out.
“No! Please!” I beg, reaching blindly for her.
I’m shoved forward, gravel biting into my knees. The blindfold is yanked off, overhead lights piercing. I blink against the glare, squinting through tears.
We’re at a small airfield, a private jet waiting on the tarmac. Dread sinks like a stone in my stomach. My father remains true to his word. They’re taking us out of the country.
No. No. I’ll never be able to come back.
The back door of the car slams shut and I whip around. Emiliana huddles on the seat, wide eyes darting in fright. In thefront, one elbow draped casually out the open window, sits my father.
His cold, flinty eyes meet mine, and I shudder. Even now, he has the power to turn me into a frightened little girl again.
“Get her on the plane,” he says to the men flanking me. His voice is flat, empty. “She’s leaving.”
“Father, please!” I gasp, lurching against the grip on my arms. “Don’t do this! I’m begging you!”
His face never changes. “You’ve brought this on yourself, Caterina. Both of you are liabilities now.”
