PoV Riccardo
It had been seven fucking weeks since Stella was kidnapped. Almost two bloody months that I did not know if she was still alive or if the bastards had killed her. Sullenly, I looked at the photos Lucius had taken in the warehouse. They showed her torn, bloodstained clothes. It was her blood on the rags. Lucia's sister had organized Stella's old blood samples from the hospital for us to match. I stared at the empty space on the wall where my cabinet once stood. Two days after Stella's disappearance, I had ordered my men to remove the furniture. The temptation to get unrestrained drunk would otherwise be too great, and I could not afford that in this situation. I wanted my fiancée back, to hold her in my arms, to protect her from everything. Why was I such a lousy loser? I sighed heavily, resting my forehead on my hands. I did not give a damn about family matters. I only wanted Stella back.
When I thought about how I had first resisted her attraction, I almost had to laugh. But I felt more like crying. How I loathed this helplessness! Until now, we had no clue as to who had kidnapped her and where she might be. If she was still alive. We had not found her body in this state, nor in the surrounding states. No unidentified female corpse had turned up anywhere. But that did not necessarily mean anything. Criminals were good at making bodies disappear. I knew that from my own experience.
Sighing, I looked at the photographs again. Her smartphone and even her bracelet had been lying on the floor. They must have scanned her for trackers. I could not explain it any other way. The bastards had blocked the signals before, after dragging Stella into the car. They were far too well-equipped and had carefully covered their tracks. Were they enemies of mine or were they solely after my fiancée? The more I had thought about it over the past few weeks, the more convinced I was that they were all about her from the start. Cazzo. Why hadn't I insisted harder that she told me everything about her past? I was such a fucking idiot.
The door to my office opened. Mario was standing there, giving me a worried look. Then Isabella stormed past him. My wonderful little daughter, who missed her mother as much as I did. She flew toward me, threw herself on my lap. Her short arms wrapped around my neck.
"Did you find mamma?" From her big brown eyes, she looked at me hopefully. It stung my heart not to be able to give her good news.
"No, my darling, still no sign." I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"You will find her, papà, I know you will." She rubbed her cheek against my prickly beard. Isabella's trust in me had been unshakable the whole time. Every night I tucked her into bed, held her in my arms to comfort her. But often it was her who gave me comfort. Thoughtfully, I rested my chin on her head. I did not deserve this child. Just as little as I deserved her mother. Sighing, I made a decision. I had to.
Isabella grabbed the photos from the site and looked at them extensively. When I tried to take them away from her, she scolded me. I frowned at her. For such a small child, she had an outrageous attitude. Cheeky little bastard.
"It looks like something out of a movie. Like everything was specifically put there and not just left lying around." Coughing, I looked at my daughter, who was gnawing thoughtfully on her lower lip. "See how they put things down? When I take off my clothes and throw them on the floor, it does not look this neat."
Stunned, I took a closer look and slapped the flat of my hand against my forehead. She was right. Isabella was damn right. Why had not any of us noticed this before? How was it even possible that a child who was just learning to read and write was smarter than a group of mafiosi put together?
I grabbed my phone and called my people into my office. Then I shooed my daughter out of the room with a wave of my hand. She looked at me, offended, before disappearing with a theatrical sigh. I simply shook my head. If she kept her sharp sense and logical thinking, she would have the aptitude to become one hell of a cunning mob boss. With tears in my eyes, I banished the thought. I would never let her take my job. She should have the carefree life she and her mother deserved. And I would do everything I could to make that possible for them. I wiped the tears of my face and waited for my men to arrive.
YOU ARE READING
Mia Figlia
RomanceWhat if your family expects you to get an heir for the family's empire and you make the wrong choices when it comes to women? You abduct a child, right? But instead of a boy who can take over, you take a girl. Great decision, absolutely fantastic. S...