Finding Sebastian

Chapter 3

Marcia stood dumbfounded as she stared into the crib. Her baby was gone. Her hand reached into the crib, but then she stopped. She retracted her hand as if an invisible shield had stopped her.

Sebby was gone.

She didn't know how to react. Tears couldn't come to her. It was unfathomable to think that someone would kidnapp her child. A six month old child for heaven's sake.

Her stomach started to churn. Her baby was defenseless in the world all alone. She needed to find him before anything horrible happened to him.

Oliver wasn't even in bed, when she woke. She thought of how he would react to their missing child. He was probably filled with so much rage that he had to take it out on something like the gym. That's exactly where she went after putting on clothing.

She opened the gym door to find her husband a sweaty mess as he punched the punching bag repeatedly. His back muscle constricted each time he pulled back. The punching bag shook with each hit. Oliver didn't slow down, though.

She made her way over to him, careful not to get in the way so she wouldn't get hurt. "Oli," she whispered out through her tears. She sniffled a little and wiped her nose.

He didn't look at her; he couldn't see the pain in her eyes. He didn't want to face the betrayed look in her eyes. So, he kept on punching. Each hit timed perfectly - unlike the feeling of this out-of-control situation.

When he had gotten home, he called his men, woke them up, and told them about the kidnapping. All of his men got up and ready in record time. They were faithful to their leader and protective over him and his family.

He had taken them in and trained them to become strong men who feared nothing - not even death itself. He taught them how to be faithful to everyone as well. He could be harsh at times, but that never wavered their adoration for him.

Before Oliver had met Marcia, he wasn't the nicest person to be around, still isn't if his wife isn't around. When she did come into the picture, everything changed. She was kind and beautiful. She was so full of life.

The men accepted her for who she was, even if she was a little crazy at times.

"Oli," she tried again but in a louder voice. He still didn't respond.

"Oliver Bernardino Ricci," her tone left no room for him to not answer. "Stop what you're doing and look at me."

One more hit. Then another. And another until he finally stopped the swinging of the bag. He leaned his forehead against the bag and sighed. "I broke the promise," he mumbled underneath his breath.

Marcia felt a wave of fresh tears begin to surface. Despite his sweaty body, she brought her delicate hand up to his head of even darker hair. She ran her fingers through it. "Baby, we need to get him back," she whispered.

"I know. I already called the men to do some research on where Pietro could have taken him."

Marcia tensed. Pietro. The man that has caused so much trouble the past couple of weeks. His calls were incessant, calling about how he would take their child away from them. He finally did it.

She didn't think it would happen so soon and so sneakily. She hated herself for not closing the window. She hated herself for not waking up when Pietro had snuck into their room.

"Are you sure it was Pietro?" she asked. She knew it had to be him, but she hoped it wasn't. He was a dangerous and delusional man who only did work to gain money and power.

"Yes."

Her stomach churned once again. She felt a wave of nausea hit her. She quickly made her way over to the bathroom in the gym and emptied the contents of what she had the night before.

Oliver strode in after her and pulled her hair back. He rubbed her back in circles until all she was doing was dry heaving. She got some toilet paper and wiped her mouth before throwing it in the toilet and flushing it down.

She got up and faced her husband. She noticed the even darker circles underneath his eyes. For his age, at 32, he should not be so stressed. Nor should he be leading this type of life.

That's what he was brought up in. The Mafia. He couldn't just say to his father, "Sorry, but I don't want to." That simply just wasn't an option. She knew this. She married into the family knowing full well of his line of work.

At first she had been cautious and reluctant. She even thought about leaving him a outlet of times. In the end, she always chickened out. She loved him. She knew that it was mutual. He told her every day and night.

She pushed some of her stray hairs out of the way and looked over her shoulder at Oliver. "What is he going to do with Sebby?"

He looked her straight in the eye. He couldn't lie to her. Not now, not ever. "He said he had some 'investors' that would pay a great deal of money for either our baby or you."

She frowned. Why? What's so special about their child other than him being the only heir to Oliver Ricci. "I don't understand."

"It's a power thing. If any of those men have you or our child, they have power over me." He brought his hands up to shoulders and said, "You are my kryptonite."

She knew that. Anyone could see that from a mile away. What she didn't understand is why someone would want power over him. She voiced her concerns.

"It's because I have hurt many people. They will stop at nothing to make sure I suffer just like they have," he informed her.

She cocked her head to the side, still not understanding. "Don't they hurt others as well?"

He coughed out a fake chuckle. "Yeah. They do it too."

She turned around so that her back was now resting against the front of the toilet seat. She ran her right hand through her hair and let it fall to her lap. She sighed, "This is all so befuddling. I just want Sebby back."

He snaked a hand behind her neck and brought her head to his chest. He then positioned her body so that she was curled up in his lap. "We'll get him back. There's no doubt about it."

A new wave of tears spring up behind her eyes. She couldn't look at him when she asked, "And what if we don't?"

He pursed his lips. He didn't know the answer. He wanted to say that everything would work out just fine, but somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he knew things were only going to evolve into more actions matters.

"We'll get him back and we'll have that basketball team of kids you always wanted," he told her.

She snorted through her tears. She still couldn't look up at him when she asked, "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Is it? I can't remember at the moment," he sarcastically stated. "But whatever you say, babe."

She giggled and finally looked up at him. Her eyes were bloodshot and tears streaked down her face. She brought her arms around her husband's neck and looked dreamily into his green eyes.

She could see the hope that blossomed into finding their child. She didn't want that hope to ever die out. She needed something secure to hold onto, and he was her vice. "We're going to find him. And fast."

He smiled half-heartedly down at his wife. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to be able to agree with her that they'd get their son back. It would be as easy as pie to get him back if it was just an ordinary guy trying to earn a bit of pocket change.

However, it wasn't that type of guy. It was Pietro. The sick son-of-a-bitch who wanted to tease Oliver with just a sense of security before he finally strikes. Like a snake.

He vowed then and there that he would not let Pietro take the next strike. This time, Oliver was prepared with knives and other weapons in order to take down the snake.