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I let out a slow breath. I hadn’t expected good news. I’m well aware of how powerful Igor Lasilov is, and the kind of force he keeps around himself to protect against those who resent that power, or want some of it for themselves. But it’s hard to keep a clear head, while wondering what’s happening to Bella.
By now, Igor would have taken her back to the mansion. It’s nearly dark, and I don’t want to think about what might happen to her tonight. What he might have planned for her. It makes my stomach turn, makes it hard to think straight, to think rationally.
I want to see her. I know I shouldn’t even try—if I’m caught, I’ll be killed. Likely in a particularly unpleasant fashion, but that’s not the part that deters me. It’s that I know my family needs me. Cecelia and Danny have already lost one parent; it’s not fair to risk them losing another.
“Boss?” Edgar taps his fingers against the table. “We need to come up with some kind of plan.”
I nod. “So we look for an opportunity to go in,” I say, after a moment’s thought. “We take shifts, watching the house, looking for gaps in the security, their shift rotations, a place where we could take advantage of a moment of weakness to get inside. We also wait to see if she leaves at any point.”
Edgar nods. “If she leaves, it’d be easier to take her back while she’s away from the house. Fewer men to deal with, most likely, and easier to get to her. We’d have the best chance by going with that plan of attack.”
“Alright, then.” I ignore the knot in my stomach that forms at the idea of waiting. “We’ll take shifts, then, watching for our opportunity. I’ll come along this evening.”
I can see that Edgar is on the verge of arguing—probably thinking that I’m not trained or equipped for this sort of mission, and he’s probably right, if I’m being honest. But I think he also sees in my face that I’m not going to be deterred, and he nods.
“Do you have a place for the others to rest, while they’re waiting to take over for us?”
“I’ll get them a room.” I stand up, and the others do as well. “And then we can head out, once it’s full dark.”
I reserve another room for Masseo’s men to cycle in and out of as we take shifts, and then I go upstairs to check on my children. Aldo is watching the sports channel on low volume in the sitting room, and Agnes comes to the door to let me know that Cecelia and Danny are asleep.
“They were exhausted,” she says quietly. “Today has been a lot for them.”
“That’s an understatement.” I run a hand through my hair, glancing towards the bedroom. “Have they been mostly alright? Crying? Panic attacks?”
Agnes presses her lips together. “Danny has kept to himself. Playing with his cars, reading, not talking very much. Cecelia has questions—how did those men know Bella, what will happen to her, why they came to your house, how they knew where to find her.” She lets out a slow breath. “I’ve done my best to deflect as much as possible, to tell her that I don’t know much more than she does. Which, of course, is true,” she adds, with a touch of reproach. “You should explain more, Gabriel. To me, at least—I expect a lot of it isn’t exactly suitable for children’s ears.”
“When Bella is back with us,” I promise, and Agnes shakes her head.
“Gabriel. I know you think all of this is for her to tell, but it’s just—not. Not anymore, not when it’s coming down on all of us, too. You say we’re safe here, but—” she presses her lips together, giving me a knowing look. “You wouldn’t be taking us out of the country on this ‘business trip’ to the estate in Italy if you didn’t think this man would be able to get to us here eventually. What is it that’s going on, Gabriel?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, finally nodding. “Igor Lasilov is the head of one of the major Bratva families here,” I say slowly. “You might have heard of him.”
Agnes frowns. “I think the name rings a bell. I recall hearing your father talk about someone by that name, I think? But I don’t know anything other than that. I’m a housekeeper,” she reminds me, and I chuckle.
“Agnes, you’ve never been just a housekeeper. You’ve been a part of the family since before I was born. And I don’t doubt my mother took you into her confidence. Maybe my father, too, on occasion, just as I have.”
“Well.” A slight smirk plays at the corner of Agnes’ mouth. “I still don’t know much about this Igor.”
“Bella was meant to marry his son. But before that, the daughter of the late Don D’Amelio was meant to marry him. But he passed, and the new don, Morelli, took issue with the marriage. He stopped it, and caused a huge rift between the families. So the solution was to give Igor’s son a different bride—Bella.”
Agnes’ expression darkens. “Well.” She purses her lips. “I’ve never liked the way women are traded around in these families. It has consequences. Usually only for them, but sometimes—” she gestures around the suite. “Those consequences are more far-reaching.”
“I agree. Whole-heartedly.” I give her a faint smile. “I’ll never allow my own children to participate in those deals. I’ll never take part in them. I’ve made a point to try to keep my distance from those machinations, exactly for that reason.”
“Until Bella.”
I let out a heavy breath. “Until Bella,” I agree.
“I can’t blame you.” Agnes leans back against the armchair just behind her, taking some of the weight off of her feet. “She’s a beautiful girl. Sweet. And wonderful with the children. If you’re asking my opinion—and you’re not, of course?—”
“But you’re going to give it anyway.”
Agnes nods, a small smile on her face as well, a knowing one. “You should marry the girl. Delilah wouldn’t expect you to mourn her forever, and she’d be glad to know there’s someone who loves her children so much—and you as well, Gabriel.”
“I wouldn’t say?—”
Agnes chuckles. “I have eyes, and my age means there’s more wisdom in them than yours. Say what you like, but I see the way she looks at you and the way you look at her. I saw, especially, the way the two of you looked this morning. There’s something more between you. But what will come of it—” She shrugs. “It’s hard to say, especially now.”
