Page 92 of The Mafia King's Lost Son
Is he cold? Scared? Hurt?
Does he think I abandoned him?
The thoughts are torture, but I can’t stop them.
Elena shows up sometime in the afternoon. She doesn’t ask questions or offer empty comfort. Just sits beside me and holds my hand while Dante and his men plan.
“They’re going to get him back,” she says quietly.
I can’t respond. Can’t find words past the crushing weight in my chest.
The sun sets and the estate stays on lockdown. Guards everywhere, up and doing, but no word on Viktor’s location.
He’s vanished completely. Like he planned every detail and knew exactly how to disappear.
I end up back in Luca’s room because I can’t stand to be anywhere else. His bed is still rumpled. His stuffed dinosaur is still on the pillow. Everything still smells like my son.
I pick up the dinosaur and hold it against my chest. He doesn’t have it with him. Wherever Viktor took him, Luca doesn’t have his favorite toy.
That thought breaks something in me and I start crying. The kind of sobbing that shakes my whole body and makes it impossible to breathe.
This is my fault. My fault. My fault.
I don’t know how long I sit there crying before I hear footsteps.
Dante appears in the doorway. He looks like hell. Eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. Face drawn. Still covered in dried blood.
We stare at each other for a long moment.
“Can’t sleep?” he finally asks.
“Can you?”
“No.”
He crosses the room and sits beside me on Luca’s bed. Neither of us speaks for a while.
“I keep seeing his face,” I finally say. “When I tucked him in last night. He looked so happy. So safe.” My voice breaks. “And now he’s with Viktor and I can’t stop imagining how scared he must be.”
“He’s strong. Like his mother.”
“He’s five years old. He shouldn’t have to be strong.”
“I know.”
The tears start again and I can’t stop them. Can’t hold anything back anymore.
“What if we don’t get him back? What if Viktor kills him anyway after he gets the ledger? What if?—”
“We’re getting him back.” Dante’s voice is rough. Raw. “That’s not a question.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because the alternative isn’t survivable.” He turns to look at me and I see the same terror I’m feeling reflected in his eyes. “For either of us.”
I break down completely then. Sobbing so hard I can barely breathe. All the fear and guilt and crushing terror pouring out.
Dante pulls me against him and holds me tight while I fall apart.
