Chapter 28—Bobby
“You’re really going to take a call? Now?” Tommy asks with annoyance.
“It’s Mama. You think I shouldn’t?” I ask with a tilt of my head and see the horror sweep across his face. Across each of my brothers’ faces.
“Take the call before we all get into trouble.” Danny mutters.
I chuckle as I walk away from my three brothers who are sitting around the famiglia’s penthouse. The one we use for business, to discuss things like we were talking about.
I note a few missed calls from my girl as well as the time a moment before I answer, realizing I’ve been here far longer than I intended.
I need to reach out to Willow after this call so she doesn’t think I’ve fallen back on my promise.
A family tradition has been implemented for years, no calls, except for Mama, should be taken when the four of us are talking business.
Not that my girl would be upset if I apologized for it, based on how well my last apology went.
I half think maybe I shouldn’t call her and just show up, begging forgiveness and taking her to the bedroom.
I might not spend as much time with her as I had initially intended because of this change in today’s events, but I still plan to have her in my bed tonight.
And other things as well.
“Yes, Mama?” It’s always a good bet to assume she needs something. It might just be a ploy to say hello, but more times than not, it comes with a request from her.
“Get the boys and come to your home immediately.”
I barely hold back my snort at her dramatics. Typical for her, really, and I roll my eyes, only because I know she can’t see me. “Why, what’s wrong?”
I wouldn’t put it past her to be planning another surprise party or some sort of family event just to get us all together.
We generally skip Thanksgiving as we tend to be working.
Christmas is sacred, but we’re Italian, and eating an enormous meal isn’t that big of a thing for us since we do it weekly.
Not that Mama doesn’t try to squeeze in as many excuses to feed us more as she can.
She’s been like this all our lives. Apparently, feeding us so much food is her way of saying she loves us.
“Trevor took my grandchildren, and I expect you to get them back.”
“He what?” I can hardly breathe out the question. Rage doesn’t take over my senses, just fear. Pure, torturous panic. Everything around me stops as I listen for her to say she misspoke. That the impossible isn’t true.
“Stop talking and get moving, Roberto.” She hangs up, and I pull my phone away from my ear to look at it. I process what she said and will my heart not to beat out of my chest.
“What did she want?” Vinny asks, and I turn just in time to see him give his own eye roll as he swirls the liquor in his tumbler, assuming it’s nothing.
But it’s not nothing. It’s devastation. It’s world crumbling.
It’s war.
My fist clenches around the phone as my anger finally pushes through everything else.
“Trevor took my girls.”
All noise ceases as my words carry to each of them.
It’s all I have to say, and every man in here, even those waiting by the door, know what that means.
Our seconds, who we allow into this office when we’re discussing famiglia business that affects them when taking care of the problems themselves or going along with us while we get our hands bloody, stiffen.
Everyone knows who I’m talking about. Trevor has been the topic of the afternoon into the evening.
With a practiced routine, we move as a well-oiled machine and get to my penthouse in record time. It helps that we were only a few blocks away. No one asks a single question until we arrive at my home.
“Mama? Where is she?” I ask as soon as the elevator opens and I see my mother waiting for me and my brothers.
“In the living room.” If she’s been crying, she hides it and just nods toward the room before me. If she says something else, I don’t hear her as I sprint to my girl.
Willow’s curled up on the couch, and I sink into it immediately, pulling her to me with ease and cradling her against me. “I’ve got you.”
She cries freely into me as I hold her for a moment. Just one. We don’t have time for this if we want to get them back. And we will. No one takes things that are mine. No one.
I brush her hair back from her face as I kiss her forehead. “Wildflower, I need you to be strong for me. For them. Tell me what happened. Tell me everything.”
And she does. Through tears and snot, she gets it all out.
My brothers and their men enter the room and hover close enough to hear but don’t intervene as she speaks.
Her eyes are down, looking at her hands as she tells me every sordid detail, and I ache that she has to go through this.
But at least she’s not alone. No one comments about her appearance or yells at her to talk faster.
We let her speak at her pace, which is faster than I expect, but I still see Danny pacing, as well as Marco. It’s not fast enough for them.
“He said if I asked anyone to help, he’d hurt the girls, but I had to. I can’t get him the money, and getting to Texas by tomorrow seems impossible with the holiday.”
“Something he’s banking on,” Danny says with a coolness that has my girl shivering in my arms.
I had plans for tonight. Big ones. Ones that allowed me to be the one to make her shiver. And moan. And beg. But that’s not happening. Not anymore. And unless I get the girls back, it will never happen again.
“Why would he do this? He’s their father, and he’s treating them as if they were… they are… I don’t….” She pulls away and hugs herself as her tears and sobs take over for a moment. Like they’re nothing when they’re my everything.
I look at my brothers, landing on Vinny last, and he gives me one nod. It’s all I need.
I sink to my knees in front of her and grab her hands.
If this is the last time I’m holding them, I want to enjoy it for as long as she’ll let me.
I might be a Leone, and taking things is in our nature, but if Willow wants to walk after what I’m about to tell her, I’d let her.
I might follow after her like a puppy and always keep a team of men on her to make sure she and the girls never experience this again, but I’d still understand if she wanted nothing to do with me.
“It’s because of me.” Fuck, I should have seen it. Seen that he would go to these extremes. Men who are desperate for money always do.
“What?” She sniffs and pulls a hand away to rub at her tears before putting it back in mine. I don’t give a rat’s ass that it’s wet and clammy at all.
“When you told me about T.H. Aviation Logistics, I didn’t recognize it. But Hastings Capital? That had me thinking, and I had some people dig into it.”
She shakes her head. “But I already did and found nothing.”
“We have a way of looking for things that goes beyond Google,” Tommy supplies.
Her mouth forms an O, but she doesn’t speak as her eyes blink back to mine.
“Jessica’s last name is Hastings.”
It’s all I say. It’s all I need to say. My girl is smart, and she pieces it together faster than Tommy did. Well, to be fair, Tommy forgot who Jessica was.
Willow stands, dropping my hands, and starts walking in front of my paneled windows. I stand as well but stay back, letting her work through it. Even if watching her unravel kills a part of me.
“Are you saying that Trevor and Jessica are part of the embezzlement? That us finding out about them and you doing—” She flicks her hands out in a flutter movement, but there’s zero judgment on her face as she keeps pacing and talking.
“—well, whatever you guys do, triggered them into kidnapping the girls?” She stops and looks around at all of us.
I wince as Vinny nods and answers for me. “Yes.”
She shakes her head and goes back to pacing. “That doesn’t make any sense. I told you at noon. You kicked me out about thirty minutes later.”
Everyone ignores the small sound of outrage Mama makes, but I don’t miss the glare she also sends my way.
I roll my eyes and focus on the issue, like Mama should be doing, rather than me not wooing my girl all day long like she’s hinted to me on more than one occasion since meeting Willow.
Mama wants more grandkids and weddings, so there’s only one thought on her mind most of the time.
“Even if you and Marco started looking, he wouldn’t have had time to get airline tickets that fast.” Willow pulls my focus back to her and away from Mama’s antics.
“Unless he flew himself,” Danny says, sitting on the edge of the couch. The man never sits unless he’s plotting. And from the head tilt, I see his wheels turning right along with Willow’s.
“Right. He likes to fly. But Texas… on a good day, it takes what, six hours to get there?” She nibbles on her thumb as she tries to put it all together in her head.
“Three and a half to four to Dallas on commercial planes,” Tommy says with a nod.
Out of all of us, he’s the one who would be most accurate in guessing.
Before the incident in Russia, Tommy traveled often for parties or just about anything that caught his eye.
And he liked underground fights. Got so into it, he invested in a few fighters and still travels to see them in Michigan every few months.
“Trevor wasn’t registered on any commercial flights,” Marco adds while looking at his phone.
I nod at my man’s insight to look. “He’s got access to a twin-engine from the aero club he’s part of.”
“How long would it take him to get to Texas in that?” Willow looks at all of us to do the math.
“Six to seven hours,” Tommy supplies. Despite my youngest brother’s constant travel, he actually hates flying.
He learned to get over the fear. Of course, the fear only appeared after he crashed a plane he was trying to fly.
I believe there was a bet and a case of vodka involved, but I don’t really recall. And now isn’t the time to focus on it.
“So, he couldn’t have just thought about it today,” Willow says with a shake of her head.