Remain calm.
I snatched a few sheets of paper towel, patted my face, released one final, long breath, and made for the exit. As I swung the door back, my heart plummeted.
Three men pounced, their movements swift and brutal. A calloused hand clamped over my mouth, stifling my cries. I recognized that mop of springy curls—the same man who’d handed me my hat when Enzo and I visited the beach. They dragged me down the long hallway, my sandals scraping at the wooden floorboards, and barged out of a back exit. I squirmed with desperate, futile energy, my screams reduced to muffled, panicky whimpers. The rough fabric of their jackets chafed against my skin as they shoved through the narrow alley and into a vast, echoing parking lot behind the café. The throbbing bass and tinny melodies of the festival music, once joyful, now a mocking soundtrack to my terror.
“Sbrigati!”the stranger barked the command, his breath hot against my ear. Two men scurried ahead to wrench open a car door, the metallic squeal grating on my nerves, and the man holding me shoved me inside with brutal force.
My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo in my chest. I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. “Who are you?” My voice came out as a strangled whisper.
“Nicolo De Luca.” He smacked the headrest of the driver’s seat, signalling to the man upfront.
Sidekick revved the engine, the rumble vibrating through my bones. “Let me go, now!” I demanded, clawing at the door handle. But it was useless—they’d obviously used the child lock. The plastic bit into my fingernails as I struggled.
De Luca, his eyes cold and calculating, whipped out his gun, the glint of steel freezing me in place. “You’re either going to be useful to us, Mrs. Cammarata, or a complete waste of time.”
“What do you mean?” Why was I always the helpless pawn in these people’s twisted games? A wave of bitter resignation washed over me.
“If Carina plays nice, I’m happy to return you to her… alive.” He emphasized the last word with chilling precision.
I swiped at the stinging tears, leaving a wet smear on my cheek. Carina? Help me?Well, there goes any chance of hope.“And what does 'playing nice' mean, exactly?” My voice was raw with fear.
He reclined back; the leather creaking beneath him, but the gun remained, an ever-present threat held casually in his hand. Ready to use if needed. “She gives back my father’s ring.” He smirked, but I could sense the underlying tension radiating from him. “Surely she’d understand such a simple request… for the sake of her family.”
“You’d kill me… over a ring?” My voice rose in disbelief, bordering on hysteria.
“Not just a ring,” Nicolo belted out a laugh. “I’m notthatcruel, Gemma… it’s a key. Carina must have known about it, too.”
I shook my head, not understanding what he was on about? “Carina’s never mentioned any ring.” The woman hardly spoke to me.
He smirked, whirling his gun around his finger. “The ring fits a lock no standard key could ever turn. Without it I have no way into the vault with the substantial sum of cash my father hid. I doubt Carina cares about the money… no, no… she’s kept the ring from us all these years out of spite.” He shot me a playful wink. “Now, do you see how much you’re worth?”
That sounded just like my mother-in-law. The car surged forward, a sickening lurch throwing me against the door. We zipped between lanes, tires squealing, bypassing cars. I twisted around, searching for any sign of the police, any flicker of hope. Was no one concerned by this reckless driving or calling the cops on these maniacs? The city lights blurred into streaks of meaningless color through the window. One moment we were fighting through the festival traffic; the next, Nicolo’s driver had wrenched the wheel, and we were bouncing down a dark, narrow road, the city lights fading behind us like a dream. I twisted, peaking at where we were going, but darkness lay ahead. “So… this has nothing to do with Vito’s death?”
He snickered, the sound derisive. “Carina was my father’s weakness. He should’ve killed her when he had the chance.” Perching his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward. “I don’t care about avenging a man who wasn’t much of a father. All I want is what’s mine.”
“Why are you telling me any of this?” The question trembled on my lips, a mixture of fear and morbid curiosity.
“They say confession is good for the soul.” Nicolo grinned, a flash of teeth in the dim light. “Besides, don’t you want to know your cause of death if this goes pear-shaped?”
The dark, empty road ahead stretched wide and long, illuminated by the car’s harsh headlights. These men had managed to find some desolate back road, avoiding the festival gridlock. If only I had a phone or a way to signal Enzo. My mind raced, conjuring a plan, a way out. The necklace. My breath hitched, and I gripped the half-moon pendant around my neck. Hope bloomed in my chest. I had to buy time, to stall, to give Enzo enough time to find me through the GPS signal. “You think kidnapping me can convince Carina to give you the ring? You have no idea how stubborn she is.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures. And Carina, despite her faults, wouldn’t want to see her beloved daughter-in-law come to harm, would she? Not when she has her own plans for you.” Nicolo’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was a predator’s grin. “Besides, if you don’t work out, then there’s always Lucio… Enzo, her brother and his entire family. I’ll go through every Calafiore and Cammarata until I get what’s mine.”
A plan formed. A stupid plan, but a plan nonetheless. “I can help you,” the words slipped from my mouth before thinking it through. “Let me convince Carina to give you back the ring. If not, I’ll find it myself and return it to you.”
Nicolo perceived me through slitted eyelids. “Tempting… but I don’t trust you.”
“Why not?” I tilted my chin, determined to see this through. “You would have heard about how Carina kidnapped me for her revenge game?” My snort echoed in the small space. “She’s not exactly my friend now, is she? Like you, I’m her enemy. Let me help you.”
Nicolo leaned back, sucking in a harsh breath through his nostrils. “Seeing Carina’s little revenge play backfire...” His low, menacing chuckle filled the space. “Serves her right for trying to keep what’s mine. We have a deal, Mrs. Cammarata.” He shrugged, his lips pouted. “I’ll give you one month. But knowthis… no ring, and you’ll find yourself back here in this car. Or better yet, under it.”
The car slowed abruptly, the sudden deceleration throwing me forward against the seatbelt. I squinted ahead. In the middle of the deserted road sat a lone car, blocking the way, and a figure stood in front, illuminated by its headlights, gun drawn. Enzo.
A strangled whimper escaped my throat. He’d found me. Relief flooded me, followed by a fresh wave of terror. He was insane to confront these men alone. He’d get himself killed. Burning rubber filled the air as De Luca’s car screeched to a halt, tires spitting gravel. The engine died, leaving a ringing silence, thick with dread.
“Oh, look, your husband’s here to play hero.” De Luca smirked, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “What a romantic gesture. Well then, this was nice… shall we get you back to him?” He nodded to one of his men, who then jumped out and opened my door. De Luca leaned over and yanked my arm, his grip excruciating. “Remember what I said. One month. Your life depends on it.”
As we stumbled out onto the rough asphalt, the harsh high beams blinded me, turning everything into a hazy silhouette.
