“You talk negatively about my fiancé and you won’t walk out of here. Tell me everything.”
He must see the murder in my eyes because he sings like a fucking bird. “Luciana was my nephew’s high school girlfriend. Sweet girl until my nephew was forced to break up with her. Something about Luciana’s nonno threatening him, which is a whole separate issue. After that, he withdrew from everything, only focusing on school so he could, in his words ‘get out of here as soon as graduation ended.’ He kept true to his words and the day after graduation moved out to a mysterious piece of property left to him by my mamma no one knew about. I’ve tried reaching out. He will only talk to his sister who’s never been in the States long enough to see me or even talk to me. The only reason I know what she’s doing with her life is because of her social media.”
Interesting. “Where is she now?”
“No. That’s all I’m telling you.” So he does care enough to protect his family. I respect that.
“You can tell me or you can start losing fingernails. I’ll ask again, where is she now?” Morally he’s a good man, torn about what decision to make. Does he trade his family for his own selfish needs?
“No. I can’t. I won’t.” He clenches his fists, a hopeless attempt to keep me from living up to my threat.
“That’s unfortunate, Antonio. Marco, unclench his fists.” He screams as Marco rips open his fist, giving me the perfect chance to grab my tools and rip out his index finger’s nail.
“Do you want to tell me now?” Antonio shakes his head ferociously, still trying to work his hands away from Marco. He screams again, the strong scent of urine filling the room when I’ve taken two more nails off and the tip of one of his fingers.
“Fine! Fine! I’ll tell you! Last I knew she was in Tokyo. I’m not sure where she is now.”
“You’re missing a name here, Antonio. Or do you need more inspiration?” He screams when I reach for a different finger, going down to the base pressing hard enough to create a cut in the skin when he speaks.
“Francesca. Frannie. Please let me go home,” he sobs as I let go of my tool, the echo of it clattering to the ground bouncing off the walls.
A light pat on the cheek shakes him before I turn around, walking out of the room. “Marco, untie our guest and send him home with a pair of unpissed pants.” The noise he lets out makes it obvious that he assumed I didn’t notice. I always notice.
A quick search pulls up her profile and I message her from a burner account, letting her know she has a fantastic business opportunity if she’d take it.
Me:
Hello Frannie,
Your pictures are wonderful. I have a fantastic opportunity we both would highly benefit from. I’d love to talk about it more next time you’re in the States.
She’s not very smart if that’s all it takes for her to accept, no questions asked.
Frannie:
I’ll be back in Pennsylvania in ten days and will be available anytime! Tell me when and where.
Bingo.
We set up a day and time to meet up for when she’s back. So close, so incredibly close to knowing where Luci has been hiding from me for so many months.
Chapter 57
Luci
20 Weeks Pregnant
“This week your baby is about the size of an artichoke. How cool is that? If you haven’t already, you may start to feel an odd sensation in your stomach, that’s your baby moving. You may have moments of high energy and moments of extreme exhaustion and that’s okay. Listen to your body and relax when you need to. Other than that, you’re measuring perfectly and your levels are amazing. You’re totally on track for the at-home birth you want. Do you have any questions for me?” My favorite part about appointments with Quinn is that I have these appointments by myself, even if that means my family is lined up outside the room.
“Well . . . ” I hesitate while fidgeting with my necklace, knowing this isn’t out of vanity but out of insecurity. Since we’re alone, it’s okay to ask this. At least that’s what I tell myself. “What can I do about stretch marks? I mean, I know it’s fairly common for many women, and they already existed pre-pregnancy, but I don’t want dark ones. You know?”
She lets out a small laugh as she rests her hand on mine when she answers. “I know what you mean. You’re right, it is normal and I’ll tell you this. Between eighty and ninety percent of pregnant women will get stretch marks. My best advice I can give you is hydration, both inner and outer. Drink plenty of water and get thick body lotion to use as much as you need for both stretch marks and itchiness. You can do that by yourself or have Elio help you. Some parents use it as a method to bond, both with their baby and as a couple.” She doesn’t know that Elio isn’t my baby’s father, another way of keeping Alessandro from finding us.
She packs up her bag as we finish up our appointment. When she stands, I hear several sets of feet scatter away from the door. My family and Elio think they’re sneaky. I know they’ve always waited outside the room, hoping to hear flashes of our conversation.
Elio scares me when I turn around after walking Quinn out. “Elio! What are you doing? You have to stop sneaking up on me.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I wanted to try to catch Quinn before she left to talk as a family. Can you catch me up? How are things going with you? Is everything okay? How’s our baby?” The farther along in this pregnancy I go, the more his doting sweetness annoys me. Why does he have to be so sweet?
