Finding Sebastian

Chapter 7

Oliver sifted through Pietro's paperwork. There was absolutely nothing of interest to find. Everything he had was either bills, magazines, or bank statements. Yeah, Pietro was going under.

He and his men checked every nook and cranny for at least a little bit of information of where he could have taken his son. His only son.

"Oliver!" It was Gino. "Oliver, I think we found something!"

Oliver was quick to sprint through the hazardous house and into the living room where he found Gino and a handful of his men. Gino motioned him to step forward. He was careful of the shattered glass and ripped furniture that littered the boards on which he was treading on.

Gino pointed to pictures of places with trees and cafés all around. People were sitting at circular tables and we're holding conversations with each other. Other pictures depicted huge palaces and old buildings. The last one caught his eye. It was of a bigger woman who stood smiling on a boat of some sort that sailed down a river with houses on both sides of it.

Only one place. Italy. But where in Italy? That was what brought him to a predicament. They could be anywhere.

Gino flipped the pictures over and was startled by what he found. "Either Pietro has no sense of percipacity over how to deal with the Mafia, or he's leading us on and he actually does have a clue."

Oliver glanced over at the what Gino was holding. On the back of the pictures there were dates and where they were taken. They were taken at least five years ago, but maybe Pietro went back. He couldn't risk not going to scope out who this woman was and where he had taken his child. The one with the woman on it said, "Rome, Italy."

It couldn't be that easy, could it? Could Pietro have led Oliver to the direct place he had his child? No, something wasn't right. Oliver needed an answer right away. Rome, Italy. That was on the other side of the world!

Why there? Why not in New York where it would be easier to find Sebastian? Pietro probably knew He would look all around New York, since it was where he lived. Cliché, yes. But he was happy - well, he was.

"Men, pack your bags. We're heading to Rome."

**

Marcia waited for her husband to come home. He said she couldn't come with him because there might be traps within the house. She scoffed. It wasn't like she couldn't take care of herslef.

She dusted. And did the laundry. And made their bed. And did the dishes. And took a shower. Still, Oliver hadn't returned. It must have been either a long drive or they're trying to decipher a code. Maybe even both.

The phone rang.

Her hand hovered over the phone as she contemplated whether picking it up was a smart idea or not. She wouldn't know unless she tried. Without thinking harder into the situation, she picked up the phone. "Hello?"

There was heavy breathing coming from the other side. It sounded labored. "Hello?" she asked again, still unsure of what was to come. She didn't know why she didn't hang up. She just listened. "Who is this?"

Then she heard a woman's voice moan out, "Oh, Oli!"

Thud. Thud. Thud. What? Was that her Oliver? Was that why he was taking so long to come back home? He must've butt-dialed her while he was committing adultery. Wait a minute. Oliver never wore any clothing while they made love.

A part of her knew Oliver would be faithful, but the other, most darkest part made her believe that he could do better than herself. She always thought of herself as a lesser woman compared to the others that surrounded her.