Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
"That was before you had a five-star rating on Yelp," he says. "Now you're a hot commodity."
"I was a hot commodity before you knew I was a hot commodity.”
Still, I pencil them in.
I yawn and stretch, and am glancing at the clock when the door opens and someone I've never seen before steps in.
"Have you seen Ricco Montavio?" The man has a scar across his cheek, and his eyes glitter like black obsidian. A shiver runs through me, the kind that makes my belly clench, and right now I wish that door had been locked .
I'd left it open. Waiting for the afternoon clients.
"I haven't. Can I tell him who’s asking for him?"
Without a word, he turns on his heel and leaves, and I know then that he's not really looking for Ricco. He's trying to send a message, only I don't exactly know what that message might be.
I lift my phone to text Ricco. I send him a quick message, but the notice at the bottom of the screen that tells me my message was delivered never goes through. My hand shaking, I text Marialena. She gave me her number before I left Tuscany and told me to call her if I needed anything.
Hey. So a guy just came in here looking for Ricco, and I didn’t know what that was all about. He didn’t tell me who he was, and now I can’t get in touch with Ricco. Any idea what I should do?
A text comes back immediately.
Call Sergio.
I begin to shake. I know Sergio doesn't like me. He doesn't want me to have anything to do with his brother. And anyway, I don't have his phone number.
I'll call him for you, answer if he calls back.
I'm pacing the shop when my phone rings.
“Hello?”
"Dani. Sergio Montavio. I'm sending a team to bring you to Bella Notte.” The line goes dead. So that's how they do things in the Montavio family. Wait there, we're escorting you to my sex club? Lovely.
But just as he says, a few minutes later two men wearing suits enter my shop.
"You got a call from Mr. Montavio?”
I nod. “I did.”
"We’ll escort you.”
"I have to pick up my daughter from school,” I begin to protest.
"Ma'am, do you have someone you trust who could pick your daughter up for you?
"Yes, of course.”
I send a frantic text to Sarah and Jason.
Something is wrong. Someone came here looking for Ricco, then left. I asked Ricco’s cousin what to do and she said to call his brother, now I’m being escorted to the club. Please, can someone get Emmy?
I pull up the app on my phone because I need to see my baby girl, right that very minute. There’s only footage from that morning, so I hit the “live play” button. I quickly scan the footage and don’t see her. Where are the damn teachers? My phone is vibrating with responses, but I don’t look because I can’t find Emmy.
I breathe in and out. The teacher’s on her phone in the corner of the room, laughing at something she sees. The children are playing with blocks and an aide has one that’s sitting with a book in the corner, but there’s no Emmy.
Okay, alright.
She’s there, she must be there. No one’s panicking. No one’s called the cops. I try to reason my way out of it but can’t get a grip on my rocketing emotions. I need to know if my baby girl is alright.
I’m pacing as Sergio’s men wait for me.
“Ma’am,” one begins. I hold my hand up to tell him to stop.
“Mr. Montavio said to bring you in now,” he says. “If you don’t come with me, I’ll have to take you in physically. I can’t disobey Mr. Montavio.”
I turn the full heat of my gaze, fueled by my mama bear instincts, on him. “Which Mr. Montavio do you obey?” I snap. “Because if you lay a finger on me, I’m telling Ricco you manhandled me, and I’m not sure what that means for you, but I know that he does not fuck around.”
He takes a step back.
“I’ll give you a minute.”
Little toddling feet dressed in a furry monster costume walk by the video camera. I sink onto the counter, bracing myself. I know those little shoes. Emmy’s wearing a costume.
“Take it off. Let me see your pretty little face, baby,” I whisper to the air in front of me. When she does, I almost cry with relief.
Okay, alright, I am way too hyped up.
I look at my texts.
Jason:
Breathe, honey. I’ll get Emmy. Call me when you can.
Sarah:
What Jason said. Emmy will be safe with Jay, you call me when you can. It’s going to be okay.
I say a quick prayer of thanksgiving to the universe for sending me level-headed and dependable people that love me. They’re my damn rocks at times like this.