She sighs. "I'm not actually sure who took Rocco."
This stops me. "What do you mean? You have him."
"I got an anonymous tip."
I slowly sink back into the booth, not understanding what’s going on.
Who is playing games with us?
Why are they using my son?
"Can you tell me exactly what happened at the festival?" Ricci asks, pulling out a small notebook.
I keep one arm around Rocco while he eats, scanning the diner for threats. "Santa—or someone dressed as Santa—offered to show Rocco his sleigh. At least that’s what my other children said.”
“He did,” Rocco confirms. “And he said he’d take me to the workshop.”
I kiss Rocco’s head. How is he so calm after his ordeal? “By the time we realized he was missing, they were gone."
"Did you notice anyone unusual at the festival? Anyone watching your family?"
I think back, trying to remember faces in the crowd. "No. But there were hundreds of people there."
"And your son is Luca Monti's child? The new Don of the Monti family?"
"Yes," I answer cautiously, worried how she might twist that into something to use against him. "Though that's only recently become public knowledge."
"Interesting timing," she notes, writing something down.
Rocco looks up, syrup on his chin. "The fake Santa said my daddy killed your daddy, but I told him he’s a liar."
Ricci's eyebrow raises. "Did he now?" She glances at me. “My investigation suggests your uncle killed your father.”
My brow furrows. “You knew that?”
Her mouth tightens as if she feels like she might have said too much. “I know a lot about the Vitale family.”
“Funny how you’re only interested in finding justice if it puts someone in jail, but weren’t interested in clearing the name of the man wrongly accused.”
“It’s not my job to clear names.”
I’ve had enough. I’m about to tell Rocco to finish his pancakes when the diner door slams open.
Luca stands there with Dom next to him.
Luca’s eyes lock on Rocco, softening for just a second before hardening again as they shift to Ricci.
He strides toward us, every movement controlled but radiating violence.
The other patrons sense it, conversations dying as he approaches.
"Daddy!" Rocco calls happily, oblivious to the danger crackling in the air.
Luca sweeps Rocco into his arms, crushing our son against his chest with a fierce protectiveness.
The relief on his face mirrors what I felt moments ago, that overwhelming rush of finding your child safe.
"We need to go. Now." Luca's voice is gentle for Rocco but leaves no room for argument.
