Page 57 of Forbidden War (Forbidden 2)
MARCO
“Where is she?”
“We don’t know, Marco. She didn’t talk to anyone before she left,” Armani says, adjusting his cufflinks as if he could not be any less concerned about Karina.
“So you’re telling me my wife just disappeared into thin air?”
The last time anyone saw her, she was mingling among the guests at Jessica’s memorial. I got so wrapped up in my own conversations that I didn’t realize the service was about to start until I had no choice but to dash to my seat in a hurry, where I had expected to find my wife waiting. But she wasn’t there. And then the service started.
Initially, I assumed she’d decided to sit elsewhere, or that she’d become emotionally distraught over the whole event and had gone back to the house. But hours later, we still haven’t found her. We did find her purse and her phone in my room, though, which is frankly all the evidence I needed to be certain that she’d been taken against her will, but that was where the trail of clues ran cold. Unfortunately, none of the household staff or guards saw her leave the property.
Frankie checked all the bathrooms. Dante and some of our security team checked the entire house, top to bottom. We searched the Bellanti offices, the tasting room, the winery, even checked the vineyard. I blamed myself at first, thinking I’d pushed her too hard to attend the service and that she was hiding out. But now it seems clear that something has gone wrong.
Our options exhausted, we’ve all regrouped in the lobby of the empty Bellanti offices.
“She must have gotten picked up while we were distracted. The service was the perfect cover,” Armani says.
I stalk closer to him. “What do you mean she got ‘picked up’?”
“Face the facts, man. She walked out. She arranged for someone to pick her up when no one was looking. Maybe that cousin of hers. Either way, she made a clean getaway. We didn’t see her. The guards didn’t see her. She’s gone.”
My heart begins to race. “She wouldn’t just leave us. She wouldn’t leave me.”
Dante’s hand shoots out and pushes against my chest before I even realize I was advancing on Armani with my fists clenched.
Frankie steps in. “Armani, what makes you so sure she left on purpose?”
I don’t give him a chance to answer. I already know what he’s going to say. “Because she’s a mole. Isn’t that right?”
Armani moves to stand in front of me, so we’re face to face. Dante tenses up at my side, ready to break up a fight if this turns violent.
“After what happened to Livvie, I can’t believe you’re not more concerned at my wife’s absence. Instead you just jump to the same old fucking conclusions,” I seethe.
“He’s right,” Frankie says quietly.
But Armani is just shaking his head, a look of disgust on his face. “I told you that her pinpointing Livvie’s location like she did was a little too convenient. You ask me, I think she outed the location too fast, screwed it up, and the Brunos have reeled her in. Or maybe she played her role so well, they were ready to welcome her back with open arms.”
I expect a flush of anger at his accusations, but remarkably, I don’t feel one. Could there be any truth to my brother’s suspicions after all? Yes, it was a mighty big coincidence that she remembered the sound of the clock chime that she heard on that video. I will admit that her sudden memories of the hideout rolled out a little too quickly, with a little too much detail. But at the same time, I know Karina. I know my wife. She doesn’t have the heart to play spy.
“You’re wrong,” I say flatly. “She’s not a mole, and she never was. She has no loyalties to the Brunos. And look at all she did for us. Without her, Livvie wouldn’t be back home.”
Frankie stands straighter. “I agree with Marco. Besides, Karina knows the security measures we have in place. If she wanted to run, she’d have done it off the property.”
“A lot of fucking good those security measures did today,” I scoff.
God, I hate myself that I doubted her. For just a second, I thought my brother was right about her and that was a second too damn long.
“It doesn’t matter what either of you believe about her. It matters what the evidence shows,” Armani insists. “Don’t let your emotions get in the way of the reality of the situation.”
I spread my arms wide. “What reality, Armani? Do you have evidence that you haven’t shared with the rest of us? Nobody saw her leave. Everybody was at the service. Unless there’s something you’re not telling us, you need to stop suggesting she left of her own free will and treat this like the kidnapping that it is. She was taken. We have to get her back.”
“The security footage is being combed over as we speak, so let’s just see what we can glean from that before we jump to conclusions,” Dante says. “For now, I’m done listening to you two bicker. There’s no sense in speculating. We don’t know what happened.”
“You’re taking his side?” I ask, incredulous. “Dante, Jesus. The Brunos have just declared their intention to escalate this feud even further, and fuck it, I will personally murder anyone who puts so much as a scratch on my wife. We’re at war. Let’s start acting like it.”
Anger pumps through me, hot and laced with anxiety and concern and the need to do something, right now. But what? The Brunos will take her somewhere we won’t find her. Sergio Bruno is going to make us wait, sweating it out until he reaches out with his demands. And we can’t just go storming into the Bruno compound. We’d never walk out of there alive.
As for going to the police, it’s not even worth considering. The Mafia’s code of silence and secrecy says you mete out your own justice and you never, ever talk to the cops. My family has pushed the boundaries of that code in the past, but getting the police directly involved, even if it’s to help find my wife, would be a death sentence for the entire Bellanti family.
“I can’t just stand here and do nothing,” I growl.
I don’t need security footage. My gut is telling me who has her. It has to be the Brunos.
This is all my fault. I should’ve kept a closer eye on her, shouldn’t have left her side for one second. But being on my home turf, security measures in place, and on a day of mourning, I felt a false sense of security. Still, the guards should’ve seen something. If Armani wants a mole, maybe he needs to be looking a little closer at his own men.
Just then, Armani’s phone pings with an incoming text message. He looks at his phone and scowls. “A florist’s van left here a few minutes before the service started. All the other vehicles exited the property hours later, and Karina was already missing by then. It’s a lead.”
Frankie’s forehead wrinkles. “Florist’s van? I signed off on all of the flower deliveries this morning. We weren’t expecting anything else.”
Armani hands her his phone and she zooms in on the grainy photo that security just texted him. “Branson? I don’t know that name. That’s not who we hired.”
I whip out my phone to do a quick Google search. No such business exists in the area.
“Fuck!” I slice a fist through the air. “Fuck!”
How could I let this happen?
