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I open my eyes. Pull the envelope out of the jute bag. Slide it across the table to her.

“You don’t have to. Elsie was kind to me. I’m glad I can help out.”

“Thank you, Marisol. For every single time you’ve done this for us.”

Her eyes are wet.

“Be careful. Both of you.”

“We will.”

I leave the café. I take out my phone the moment I’m on the sidewalk. Elsie needs to know Zidaru has caught up to her.

A black SUV pulls up to the curb beside me as I unlock the screen.

One of the back doors opens.

A man gets out.

He is smiling.

It is the worst thing I have ever seen.

“Rosalie Palmer.” His voice is quiet, calm. The voice of a man who has done this before. “Mr. Zidaru would like a word.”

I turn.

He catches my wrist. His other hand goes over my mouth before the scream I had just started has fully left my throat. The taste of leather and salt and something sharp like antiseptic hits my tongue. I am lifted off the pavement, into the back of the SUV. The door shuts.

The driver pulls into traffic.

My phone is on the sidewalk somewhere behind us. I hadn’t even unlocked the screen.

Elsie, is my first thought.

Vincenzo is my second.

Then I make myself focus on what’s happening. I have to find a chance to save myself.

There are three men. Me in the middle row between two of them. Driver up front. One of the men beside me has zip ties. He pulls my wrists in front of me and binds them with the zip ties.

“Where are you taking me?”

No one says a word. They don’t even look at me. I ask again, louder this time.

One of the men swears. He grabs a cloth and gags me. The smell of something rancid invades my nostrils and I retch, nearly throwing up. The men beside me lean away from me.

Nobody knows I’ve been kidnapped. Fear consumes.

The thought of never seeing Vincenzo and my family, petrifies me. My relationship with Vincenzo is only just starting. I haven’t told him I’m crazy about him.

I want to sit beside Elsie and tell her about Vincenzo’s sweet side. Despite being feared by many, he brings me coffee in bed, does the dishes, calls me tesoro mio in the most possessive tone and always gives me earth-shattering orgasms.

I want to eat granny’s hot dogs topped with the special chili she makes, and dad’s ribs.

The SUV slows. Turns. The road under the tires changes from smooth to rough. We are off the main streets.

A hood is thrown over my head.