Page 50 of The Sicilian Brotherhood I

“Where are you taking her!” I asked again, my heart racing as I went from frantic to panicked.

Mari pulled Skye through the door and closed it shut. Without Skye by my side, the reality of my situation set in more. If they’d taken her out of the room they could be torturing her, or worse.

My memories of Raimondo hadn’t faded. I knew what could lie in wait for her behind that door.

I grit my teeth and forced myself to my feet for the first time. My legs ached and I cried out as I put my weight on them for the first time since the accident. I was bruised and my legs hurt, but I didn’t think any of my bones were broken. That meant I could fight. That meant I could run.

I had no weapons and no clue how I’d get out. I thought about the woman who took Skye and a terrifying thought popped into my head that made my blood run cold. Skye hadn’t looked scared. I might have acted tough, but I still feared what could come.

Skye understood what the Sardinians were capable of. She knew that none of them would hesitate to pull the trigger if they had to. Mari, in particular, had a visible streak of insanity that struck you the instant you caught hold of her cold gaze.

Now on my feet, I hobbled over to the door and grit my teeth, holding back a groan as I kneeled on the ground and attempted to peer beneath the door to get as much information as I could about where we were and who was with us. I must have missed some clues.

Peering beneath the door, I saw nothing and heard nothing for a few minutes. As I eased my way back to my feet, I heard boots pounding against the hardwood above me. I was far from alone.

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Giacomo

Dahlia had been missing for five days. When I woke up in the wreckage of my car, she’d been my first thought. She was the only one missing. Millie remained in the backseat without making a sound. When I turned around to look at her, she stared at me with wide, dark brown eyes.

I'd never been good with kids. Stuck with Skye's kid, I was forced to pick myself up, ignore the searing pain in my right arm and leg and get Santo to bring us to the hospital. I called him, explaining what had happened and where we were.

We were deep in the Sardinian gang territory, so my car remained unmolested by cops. Franco must have had all those bastards in his back pocket.

That idiot Santo pulled up on his bike but when he saw the look of murder in my eye, he’d made a phone call and Elena came with her sedan. She drove us to our doctor, an old Sicilian man who had nothing to do with anything we were involved with, but who had been friends with my father for years.

Millie sat quietly, her braids hanging down to the middle of her back as the doctor examined her. She remained mute and occasionally glanced in my direction for approval to do what the doctor had ordered.

I kept an eye on her, terrified at this new responsibility that had been unloaded onto me. Dahlia was my biggest priority now.

Elena had asked me where she was and I had to ignore the tightening worry in my chest for just long enough to tell her the truth.

Dahlia had been kidnapped and although I had some ideas, I had no clue where the hell she could have been.

The Sardinians were responsible, but I couldn’t tell if Franco had been the one to kidnap her, or if another man in his ranks had risen up to defy him.

Pietro and Elena were my best bets for figuring out what to do next. I couldn't tackle the Sardinians on my own. Franco appeared to be one step ahead. That bastard wasn't as smart as he thought he was.

I'll catch him, I thought to myself.

Elena suggested I talk to the Romans, or at least one Roman, who lived outside of Chicago. Pietro, Santo, and Elena didn’t believe that Dahlia was still in New York and I had to agree.

Franco would be foolish to keep her nearby, closer to the majority of the Sicilian Brotherhood. Our Southern and Western chapters were more sparsely populated. The only place anyone could be safer would be Sicily.

The child added another complication. I had no clue what to do with Millie. I knew what Raimondo would have told me to do. He would have insisted that we cut our losses and tie up loose ends, no matter who got hurt. He'd have no qualms about taking care of business.

I’d never harmed a child and I never would. We were different leaders, now separated eternally due to his wrongdoing.

That bastard never deserved an iota of my trust.

No, harming kids was out of the question. Whether the children were Sicilian or not, they were still just kids. Millie had barely eaten in five days and she hadn’t said a word, not even to Elena, who I thought could manage a kid well enough for that not to be a problem.

Santo suggested finding an aunt to leave her with. We could always ask her, he suggested. So I did. And Elena did. And Santo did. And Pietro did. And none of us could get Millie Hudson to open her mouth and tell us what to do with her.

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