Finding Sebastian

Chapter 4

Pietro was comfortable in his jet seat as he was making his way over to Italy. More specifically, Milan. He swirled the ice around in his whiskey as he looked out of the window. The small towns he looked down upon gave him a sense of hierarchy. He felt in control, yet not at the same time. He could see almost everything, but he couldn't see what people were doing inside of their homes.

Milan, he couldn't wait. Back to where he came from and where he would spend the rest of his life surrounded by women and riches.

He frowned thinking back to the close proximity Oliver's goons had to where he was hiding out. Luckily for him, he made it out just in time to avoid them altogether. It would have ruined everything if he made one measly slip up. He couldn't bear the consequences.

For now, he was safe. Oliver couldn't reach him. He had the support of whoever was going to buy the child. He smiled. The child would be out of his hands and Marcia would be running into his.

He looked over at the child and sneered. How could anyone want to make such a hideous creature? How could anyone even want a child? To him, children were a waste of space.

If he had it his way, people would be born out of tunes and created as men and women. The women would know from the start through conditioning cycles how to pleasure a man and be submissive to him. A man would rule the house and his wife.

He would make Marcia submissive to him. Oh, the pleasure he could make her feel. The touch of his fingertips upon her soft skin in the candlelit room. Soft music playing in the background as he made love to her all through the night.

Goosebumps ran up his arm and he shivered. His erection strained in his pants. He needed to get laid, and by a certain someone.

He was awoken from his fantasies by the gurgling of the child. His hands and feet were in the air, cooing mindlessly away. His bright green eyes didn't even seem fazed by the change in scenery.

Pietro almost awed at the cuteness of the child, but he held himself back. How could he succumb to such a monstrosity such as that? The child was from the same blood as Oliver Ricci. The name left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

The baby, noticing that his mother wasn't around, began to cry. He was hungry as well. He usually ate three times a day. He skipped breakfast because Pietro didn't feed him.

Pietro tried to cover his ears, but the wailing didn't cease. He cringed. This bastard child is getting on my last nerve. If he wasn't worth so much, I would get rid of him myself.

Seb cried harder and louder. Pietro ground his teeth together in hopes the baby would stop. He didn't. "Shut the fuck up!" Pietro finally exploded.

The child stopped momentarily. He knew those words. It reminded him of his dad who would yell them when he was on some sort of device that was held next to his ear. Then he'd start pacing.

His mother would be right beside his dad in a matter of seconds to try and ease the stress. She would massage his arms and neck, then she'd kiss his neck and sit him down on a chair.

The thought of his mother caused him to cry once more.

"Ugh!" Pietro was very close to throwing the baby out of the airplane.

To calm himself down, he glanced out of the window once more. This time, the towns were replaced by miles upon miles of dark blue waves. The endless mass of water looked up to him and waved as if to say goodbye to the place he was staying. Now, as he drew closer to Italy, it was like the waves were welcoming him home.

He couldn't wait until he was home. His mother would bake the best apple pies with her special crust. Nowadays, his mother didn't do much except bake for the local homeless shelter and bring old clothes. She would play with the children if she had time.

He was excited to see her again. He had spoken to her and wrote her letters via email or paper, but time was inevitably going to take her away from him.

That was another reason for moving back to Milan. He wanted to see his mother before she passed on.

The baby's wails ultimately died out after a while of no attention. Was it so hard to get attention from his mother? He was hungry and he wanted to see her smiling face.

He was also missing his dad... a little. He still didn't like him because he yelled and took his "Mommy and Me" time away. He loved his mother with everything he had, even if he didn't truly understand any of it. All he knew was that his mother was his shelter in the storm, and sometimes his dad was the storm.

"Pietro, sir," the pilot sounded, "we are about an hour away."

Pietro was ecstatic to hear the news. He'd soon be home. Home is where the heart is.

He took his luggage with him off of his plane and looked for a familiar face. It was easy considering he was in a small airport shared by only the best-of-the best-of, but still difficult.

The baby was soundly asleep in the stroller while Pietro glanced around the area. Finally, out of the crowd he saw a plump woman walking briskly toward him. She had on a a pair of dark blue jeans and a white top. Her blonde hair was in a messy bun and tendrils of hair fell into her face.

"Pietro!" The woman was incredibly excited to see her son again. After five years of not seeing him face-to-face, she couldn't hold in her excitement. Her eyes scrutinized her son, especially because he had a baby with him.

She got up to him and hugged him tightly. She held him at arms length away and kissed both of his cheeks. "Oh, Pietro! I am so glad you are finally home!" Tears brimmed her eyes.

Pietro hated to see his mother cry - even if it was out of pure joy. He knew showing up was the right thing to do.

She glanced down at the baby and shot him a glare. "Pietro," she drawled out his name in a warning and disappointed tone.

"It's not what it looks like, mother," he tried to explain. His ,other out her hands on her hips and leaned her weight to one side. "A close friend of mine needs me to keep watch of his child while he and his wife are away on their honeymoon."

That was all the explanation his mother needed before crouching down and adoring the sleeping child. "He's so precious."

Pietro rolled his eyes. Sure. The little bastard is just peachy.

His mother looked up at him. "Don't you think, Pietro?"

"He's a hand full."

His mother laughed. She continued giving her attention to the sleeping child. "That's just because he misses his mother. I'm sure he will come around after a while."

"He's going to have to become accustomed to it." Pietro couldn't handle another long night with a crying child near him. His mother, on the other hand, would gladly devote her time to the thing that looked like a baby.

His mother got up and grabbed the handles of the stroller while her son grabbed the rest of his luggage. They walked in and out with only a few stops. Pietro was antsy to get back home and sell the baby away to a wealthy investor.

"How long will you be staying," she asked.

"Hopefully for at least two more days. Three tops."

His mother's eyes enlightened. "That means I can spend more than enough time with this little one." She smiled at him. "Will I be able to meet this beautiful child's parents?"

Pietro cleared his throat. "I don't think there will be time for that." It wasn't exactly a lie. There was absolutely no time for his mother to meet the parents, and if there was, then that meant he was in serious danger.

The light in her eyes deflated. "Darn. Maybe next time."

His mother was certainly persistent. "Sure," he said through gritted teeth. "Next time it is."