2.

Cici

~~~

"What are you doing?" The words pour out of my lips before I can stop them, my fingers gripping the cool, leather headrest in front of me.

Almost instantly, my bodyguard cocks his gun and aims it at the driver who doesn't move an inch, not at all worried that a gun is pointed at his head.

"She asked you a question."

The driver scoffs and a cold chill runs down my spine.

What is going on?

A sudden sharp pain pierces my arm, I look down to find Valerie holding onto me for dear life, all the color drained from her face.

Grey eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror.

"Please relax, Miss Miano. I've been instructed to drive you to the destination safely..." he pauses and adjusts his driving posture, turning his head slightly to my bodyguard beside him. "But in any case you're not willing to cooperate, we'll take matters into our hands."

"We?" I raise a brow. He doesn't respond, but it doesn't take long to figure out what he means when I notice the same car as ours trailing us.

My stomach clenches tight with different things running through my head.

This wasn't part of the plan. Who are these people? What do they want with us? How does this man know my name?

"W-what are we going to do?" Valerie's grip tightens, but her voice is a low whisper I almost don't hear.

I place my index finger on my lips, cautioning her to be quiet. She complies, only to start trembling, tears staining her eyes. I take it as fear, especially for her unborn child, and wrap my arms around her while thinking of a way out of this.

"Lower your weapon, sit back and enjoy the ride," the driver says to us. My bodyguard angles his neck to look at me and I nod once. He lowers it.

"How do we..." Valerie begins again. I silence her with a look, my mind running faster than I can keep up with. But the most prominent thought is how we're at a disadvantage.

Whoever is doing this knew I'd come in today and planned to kidnap me. But why? And who?

A certain dark-eyed man comes to mind, but I shake it off.

No.

He can't possibly be the one behind this. He couldn't have known I was coming tonight. He doesn't know where I am, if I'm dead or alive.

At least that is what I tell myself even though the evidence is as clear as day.

He's capable of something like this, he has enough connections to pull it off. That's the kind of person he is.

Always planning and calculating.

Snap out of it, Cici! I mouth to myself.

He put me in an uncomfortable and unfortunate situation once and I got out of it. I'll just have to do it again.

Slowly, I peel Valerie's fingers from my arm, turning to my bag between us, then I unzip a side pocket, pulling out my work phone.

Valerie's eyes meet mine, a thousand questions in them. I let out a slow breath and hand her my personal phone.

She raises a brow at me and I nudge my jaw towards her body. Understanding lightens up her eyes and she nods, taking it from me. Then she forces it into her breasts to hide it.

"I hope you're not planning to call the cops? They can't help you." The driver's deep baritone reverberates through the car.

Silence meets the end of his words and it remains that way until the car comes to a stop at a remote location.

Two cars stop behind ours and hefty men emerge from them, marching towards our car.

It's completely dark out. There's not even a star in sight, and I don’t know if I can call it strict or careful, but the closer we got here, everyone turned off their headlights, driving blind.

But from what I can gather as my sight adjusts to the darkness, there's a large two-storey building hiding in the midst of tall trees.

"Alright," A tall figure appears at my window, his voice heavily accented. "Everybody out!" He opens the door, revealing Valerie and me. A cool breeze hits my skin and I shiver, then I suck in a deep breath, remaining still.

"Are you fucking deaf? I said get out!"

Maybe it's because I lived around violence for a while, or maybe it's ‘cause I suspect He's behind this, but as I step out of the car, I don't feel as frightened as I did earlier. Fear is still crawling beneath my skin, but panic won't help me.

Zarah jumps out of her car and runs to me immediately, wrapping her arms around me with tears in her eyes.

"They said they were going to kill you if I—" She cries, tears rolling down her face. "I thought I wouldn't see you again."

"Break that shit up!" The guy who opened my door orders and I immediately push Zarah off me. He looks like the leader around here so it’ll be best to do as he says until we find a way out of here.

"Move it!" The same guy barks, and the driver from my car and another dude lead the way into the intimidating building.

Once inside, Mr. Leader turns on the lights and stretches out his arm without giving us a chance to adjust to the sudden brightness.

"Now, your phones."

Zarah hands hers over first, then my bodyguards, then Valerie. I decided to stall so less attention would be placed on Valerie with my phone in her.

Mr. Leader snatches my work phone from my hands with a smirk, then he takes a step back.

"Would you at least tell us who you guys are and what you want with us?" I find my words, talking as calmly as possible so as not to set him off.

He smirks.

"Who we are?" He says it like it's an insult. He raises his hand to scratch his head but instead of his fingers, a gun appears, going into his hair. He chuckles darkly, and in a split second aims his gun at me.

"Why don't you ask her?" His gaze glides over to Valerie, who, now that I'm staring at her, I notice she's trembling and sweating profusely, guilt written on every inch of her face.

He clicks his tongue and moves towards her, getting into her face.

"Where is he?" He asks, and it instantly clicks.

These guys don't work for Him, and they're not after me.

They're after Valerie and her husband. And they’re most likely the ones who accused them wrongly and separated the little family.

"I-I don't know where he is," Valerie cries.

"Don't you?" He circles her. "Didn't you come back to the county to reunite with him?"

She shakes her head and a loud smack echoes through the dusty living room. Valerie drops to the ground, holding the side of her face.

"She's pregnant!" I yell, my body moving to close the distance, but before I can get to her, Mr. Leader grabs my arm, pulling me flush against him.

"I wonder what she told you," he grits out, his hot breath fanning my face. It reeks of cigarettes and alcohol.

"If you want her husband why not look for him instead of bullying her?"

The next slap lands across my face.

Zarah screams, but the sound seems distant beneath the sharp burst of pain spreading across my cheek. My head jerks to the side, and a high-pitched ringing fills my ear.

I press my lips together, tasting blood.

"Now, are you ready to shut up and listen to me?"

How fitting that my first time back here in three years and this is how I’m welcomed.

"I branded the fucker a Made Man and he stole from me, to escape to another country. Did she tell you that?"

No? She told me she was framed. But I don’t say it out loud.

He pushes me to the ground and takes a step towards Valerie. Then he crouches down.

"I told you, didn't I? That you can't hide from me forever. I'll always find you until you both pay me every dime you owe me. Including interest."

His words fade into the background, leaving two words repeating inside my head.

Made Man.

He made Valerie's husband a Made Man.

My stomach twists.

The man standing in front of us isn't just some ordinary criminal. He's part of the Mafia.

"Take them upstairs," The words echo around me but they don't make much sense until someone grabs my arm, pulling me up and pushing me towards a flight of stairs.

They strip my bodyguards of their weapons before forcing them down a separate hallway. One of them tries to protest, but the butt of a gun crashes against his stomach. He doubles over, and the others immediately raise their hands in surrender.

My heart twists.

They’re trained to protect me, but there are too many men surrounding us. We can’t win this fight.

"Move!" one of the kidnappers orders and pushes Valerie, Zarah, and me into another room.

The door makes a harsh click behind him, signifying our confinement. That’s when a distressed breath escapes my lips.

This isn't how this was supposed to go.

"Are you alright? Your face!" Zarah motions towards me. I shake my head, passing her a small smile. She doesn't return it, or accept it.

"I'm fine, really," I say to her, at the same time my eyes coast over to Valerie who is in one corner, hugging herself.

"The mafia? Really?" I can't help the annoyance in my voice. She flinches. "You knew from the start what we were getting into and you stayed silent?"

"I- I didn't think..."

"Yes, you didn't. You know how dangerous the mafia is, and you put not just me but my employees at risk."

"I was scared!" She yells, tears streaming down her face. "I was scared that if I told you, you wouldn't want to help me. I didn’t think they’d ever find me or do something like this.”

"No! I would've helped, but I would never have brought you back here because of the danger, Valerie!"

Her shoulders slump in defeat.

“I’m sorry. I-I’m really sorry.”

I smooth my palm over my braids.

"If it's the Italian Mafia, how do we get out of this? They're holding us hostage for her husband and I don't think they'll let us out if he doesn't show."

She's right, they won't.

"I still have your phone," Valerie suggests, digging her hand into her top, "Maybe we could call the cops?" She pulls it out.

"No," Zarah rejects. "Didn't you guys just say they're the Mafia? I'm thinking we should call the Kenyan embassy instead, they might be our only and best shot."

"No."

They both turn to look at me.

"It'll be messy, and it'll affect the company."

"It's not like we did anything bad, C, we were kidnapped at the airport. We’re victims."

I shake my head, a dirty thought forming instead.

"No," I mutter to myself to drive the thought away, but it doesn't work.

"No?" Zarah arches a brow.

Instead of responding, I crawl to Valerie, take my phone from her, and unlock it, staring at the call icon on my screen.

"Who are you going to call?"

"Hopefully a bigger threat," I say and tap on the icon.

I know His number by heart. He had me memorize it for fun once and I never forgot it. Maybe part of me

was scared he'd call one day and if I didn't know it was him I'd pick up and he'd find me. Maybe writing it down multiple times in a book over the years was a kind of trauma response.

I've always hated the fact that I remember it, but it might be my saving grace today.

It's ironic. I spent years ensuring he could never find me or get to me, and tonight I'm seeking him out myself.

No. This is not right.

But when I look up at Zarah and her bloodshot, tear-stained eyes, and also at Valerie and her condition my stomach twists in guilt and I make up my mind to do it. I punch in the number with shaky fingers. Then I hit dial.

It rings once. Twice.

I hold my breath.

He doesn't recognize the number. That must be why he isn't answering.

A sigh escapes my lips. I knew it was a mistake to call him. I pull my phone away from my ear, ready to hang up. But just as I do, the ringing stops.

My heart seems to stop with it.

"If you're calling my personal line with an unknown number, you're one of two people," His familiar Italian-accented voice slices through the silence.

For a second, everything around me disappears.

In my mind, I'm standing before him while he's leaning against his office chair, his thumb on his bottom lip, those dark eyes fixed on me as if he can see straight through every lie I've ever told.

"My mother," he continues, "or my wife?"

My chest clenches.

His mother is dead.

“Rafe.” His name comes out as a pathetic whisper. Silence follows.

"I-I need your help."

Another silence.

Then I hear movement on his end of the line.

"Where are you?"