Chapter 3~ Seen Too Much

Chapter 3

Estelle

✦༺⚜︎☠︎⚜︎༻✦

Sicily was nothing like I’d imagined and everything like the photos all at once.

The island we’d come to—Isola di San Michele—was only accessible by a small ferry from the main port, and as we approached, I understood why people paid stupid money to visit.

It was paradise. Actual, literal paradise with white sand beaches and water so blue it looked photoshopped. The island was small enough to walk across in twenty minutes but packed with enough bars, restaurants, and hidden coves to keep tourists busy for weeks.

“This place is mental,” I breathed, staring at the crystal-clear water as our ferry pulled into the tiny harbor.

“Mental gorgeous,” Vivian agreed. “And look at all the fit blokes already on the beach. It’s like they knew we were coming.”

“They definitely knew Stell was coming,” Millie laughed. “Operation Deflowering is officially go.”

“Will you please stop calling it that? People might hear you.”

“Let them hear. You’re twenty-three and you’ve never been properly kissed. This is a public service.”

“I have been kissed!”

“That thing with Marcus Thompson behind the bike sheds when you were sixteen doesn’t count. That was basically just two teenagers bumping faces together hoping for the best.”

She wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t have to like it.

We checked into our little beachside hotel. Three beds crammed into what was basically a glorified closet, but with a view that made up for everything. Within an hour, we were changed into our bikinis and heading down to the beach with enough sunscreen to protect a small army.

The beach was packed with gorgeous people doing gorgeous things in the gorgeous sunshine.

Everyone looked like they belonged in a magazine while I felt like I belonged behind the counter at Waterstones, recommending romance novels to pensioners.

“Stop overthinking,” Poppy said, reading my face like she always did. “You look amazing. That bikini makes your boobs look incredible.”

“My boobs are nothing special.”

“Your boobs are spectacular and you know it. Now come on, let’s get some drinks and start scoping out potential candidates for tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“No time like the present, love. Strike while the iron’s hot and all that.”

Three cocktails later, I was feeling significantly more confident about the whole situation. The drink was making me pleasantly fuzzy around the edges, and there were definitely some very attractive men giving me interested looks.

“There,” Millie pointed across the beach to where a group of guys were playing football in the sand. “That one with the dark hair. He keeps looking over here.”

I followed her gaze and immediately felt my cheeks heat up. He was gorgeous—all tanned skin and easy smiles, exactly the kind of man who’d never looked twice at me back home.

“I can’t just go over there.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know how to talk to men like that.”

“They’re just people, Stell. Admittedly, very attractive people with excellent bone structure, but still just people.”

“Easy for you to say. You’ve been talking to men like that since you were twelve.”

“And now it’s your turn. Come on.” She grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the group.

“Millie, no. I’m not ready. I need more drinks first.”

“You need less drinks and more confidence. Trust me.”

But before we could reach them, the football came flying toward us and Mr. Dark Hair jogged over to retrieve it, flashing a grin that should have come with a warning label.

“Sorry about that,” he said in accented English that made my stomach do little flips. “My aim’s not what it used to be.”

“No worries,” I managed, trying not to stare at the way his shorts hung low on his hips.

“You ladies enjoying your holiday?”

“We’re having a brilliant time,” Vivian jumped in when it became clear I’d temporarily lost the ability to speak. “It’s Estelle’s first time in Italy.”

“First time?” His eyes lit up with interest. “Then we must make sure you have an unforgettable experience.”

The way he said “unforgettable experience” made me think he wasn’t just talking about sightseeing.

“I’m Pietro,” he continued, holding out his hand.

“Estelle,” I managed, trying not to notice how warm his skin was when I shook it.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

Christ, he was good at this.

“Would you like to join us for drinks later? There’s a party on the beach tonight. Music, dancing, good wine…”

I opened my mouth to say yes—to finally do something spontaneous and exciting—when my bladder decided against it.

“That sounds lovely,” I said, “but I need to… excuse me for a moment.”

And with that incredibly smooth move, I practically ran toward the beach facilities, leaving my potential Italian stallion standing there with my two mates who were probably already planning our wedding.

The ladies’ loo was thankfully empty, giving me a moment to splash cold water on my face and give myself a stern talking-to in the mirror.

“Right, Estelle. This is it. This is your moment. You’re going to go back out there, you’re going to flirt like a normal person, and you’re going to finally understand what all the fuss is about.”

I was just drying my hands when the door opened and three men walked in.

Three. Men. In the ladies’ loo.

“Excuse me,” I said, turning around with my best customer service smile. “I think you’ve got the wrong—”

The words died in my throat. These weren’t lost tourists. These were three men dressed head to toe in black, wearing sunglasses despite being indoors, and one of them was carrying what was very clearly a small child.

A small child who was making muffled crying sounds.

“Oh,” one of them said when he saw me, his smile not reaching his eyes. “Sorry, miss. My daughter needed the toilet and the men’s was occupied.”

I looked at the child in question. Beautiful little boy, maybe three years old, with dark hair and huge brown eyes that were wide with fear. He was pressed against the man’s chest, but something was wrong. His mouth was… was that tape?

“Your daughter?” I heard myself ask, my voice sounding weird and high.

“Yes, my daughter. He’s been a bit… fussy today. Haven’t you, bambina?”

Daughter. Girl. He’d just called this obviously male child a girl.

Every alarm bell in my head started ringing at once.

“How old is she? He’s gorgeous.” I stepped closer, trying to get a better look at the child, and that’s when I saw it clearly—there was definitely tape across his mouth. Clear tape, but tape nonetheless.

“Three,” the man said quickly, shifting the boy away from me. “Very shy around strangers.”

“Oh, I love children,” I continued, my heart hammering against my ribs. “I have a little brother myself. What’s her name?”

The three men exchanged glances.

“Sofia,” the one holding the child said finally.

Sofia. A girl’s name. For a boy who was clearly terrified and clearly not their child.

“Sofia’s a lovely name,” I managed, taking another step closer. “And such a handsome little… girl.”

The child’s eyes met mine over the man’s shoulder, and in that moment, I knew with absolute certainty that I was witnessing a kidnapping.

“Well,” I said brightly, “I should let you get on with it. Daddy duties and all that.”

I moved toward the door with every intention of raising an alarm, to get help, to do something. But as I reached for the handle, the man’s voice stopped me cold.

“Actually, miss, I think you should stay.”

I turned around slowly, and found myself staring down the barrel of a gun.

“I think,” he continued conversationally, “that you’ve seen too much.”