Page 305 of Mario
If she had gone to that park alone. If she had met that woman with no one watching. If Edoardo and Dante were not following from a distance.
If they had not called me the moment Victoria’s routine changed.
The thought is useless now. It did not happen. She is here. She is alive. She is being examined by a doctor in a room in my house, with my people on every entrance and my family below taking apart every piece of the failed abduction.
Because I did have people watching her. Today, I had Edoardo and Dante tailing her.
I’m thankful for that one, though Dante had been irritated by the assignment because Victoria had given no sign of leaving her apartment all morning.
They took position anyway, watched, waited.
Then she left in the middle of the day with no warning and not to the office.
No, she was headed to the park.
It was odd enough that they thought to contact me.
For four days, she had not come to work.
Four days of work sent remotely, messages answered with enough professionalism to build a wall, and no real explanation of the illness that had taken her out of my building, pale and shaken.
Four days of Lorenzo telling me to let her come to me.
Then, suddenly, she’s going to the park in the middle of the work day on a Thursday after days of silence and sickness and fear she refuses to explain.
Letting her come to me was no longer an option. I had reached the end of my line.
Despite Lorenzo’s advice, I left my office with the intention of demanding answers.
Lorenzo followed me because he knew from the look on my face that talking would waste time. He also knew, because he is my brother, that if I reached Victoria before I had myself in hand, I might do damage I could not repair.
I had not come to the park to watch her but to confront her.
To stand in front of her, look her in the eyes, and tell her the silence between us was over. I was done with her avoidance and done with her sending work through associates while pretending whatever was happening to her did not involve me.
I was going to bring her home.
And thank God I was there.
I trust my nephews. I trust my people. I trust Rocco, and I trust the security I put around her.
They would have handled it. I have no doubt of that.
If I had been in my office, waiting for updates, they would have done what needed to be done. They would have done everything exactly the same. They would have brought her back to me.
But I would not have seen it with my own eyes.
I would not have been there to feel her alive under my hands.
Being told and having to wait is not the same as knowing with my eyes and hands.
The door opens.
I turn before Dr. Santoro has taken his first full step into the sitting room.
He closes the door behind him with care, then faces me.
“Well?” I ask.
