I take a seat on the opposite side of the island and put my chin in my palm. My head is buzzing with unwanted thoughts. I wish I could take a break from myself for a moment, and wonder if it’s too early to go find Francisco again. He likely has a lot of business to attend to, and I don’t want to bother him. Still, he’s my surefire antidote to all the anxiety I’m experiencing. When I’m with him, all the negativity just seems to go away.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Frankie asks, sourcing some Columbian espresso beans from the cabinet and putting them in the grinder.
“I’m just thinking about my brother.”
The grinder whirls, filling the kitchen with its electric sound. When the beans have become a fine powder, Frankie empties them into the filter and starts the espresso machine.
“You can’t accuse Andretti of taking your brother without proof,” Frankie says, letting me peek behind the curtain at the inner workings of the mafia system of justice.
“Why not?” I ask. “Francisco seems positive that’s who has my brother.”
“He may be positive,” Frankie agrees, “but he doesn’t have proof. It’s a question of honor. Without proof, Andretti can claim that my father is insulting him. That will escalate the situation and possibly cause a war.”
“But isn’t that why we brought so many people back from Italy with us?” I wonder. “Isn’t that why Francisco and I got married in the first place? So that Andretti would think twice before starting a war?”
“Is it?” Frankie asks, looking pointedly at me.
I feel my cheeks heating up and realize that I haven’t been completely honest with him. “There are many reasons I married your father,” I walk it back. “That’s just one.”
Frankie frowns, but he doesn’t push the issue. I can see this will be a sore spot for a while, and I promise myself I’ll be more careful in the future. I don’t want to rub salt in his wounds by claiming that my marriage to Francisco is anything other than a love match. It’s easier that way. And I really do have strong feelings for the man.
“So if we can’t accuse him of kidnapping, but we’re sure that he’s got my brother, what can we do?” I ask desperately hoping for a way out.
If I had free rein of the family’s manpower, I would march up to Andretti’s door and demand the release of Brandon. It’s frustrating that Francisco won’t do that. I can’t understand why he’s so sure that Andretti is the culprit. And I can’t understand why he won’t make a move if he’s so damned sure.
“Don’t be fooled,” Frankie says, grabbing two tiny mugs from the cabinet and setting them on the counter. “The mafia may be a criminal organization, but it has rules.”
I sigh, feeling helpless. “There has to be something we can do.”
“We could use you as bait,” Frankie suggests.
I hate the idea and love it all at the same time. Of course, Francisco would never agree. He wants to handle things his way, which means keeping me out of the fight. But it’s not his brother who’s in trouble. Brandon is my responsibility, which means I should do everything I can to make sure he comes home safely. I know that will make Francisco mad, but I’m pretty sure he’ll forgive me eventually.
“What did you have in mind?” I ask.
“Nothing,” Frankie says. “I’m just speculating. I would never do anything against my father’s wishes. And it’s pretty clear he doesn’t want you involved.”
“Please,” I respond. “I feel like we’ve got a rapport going here. You know how much I care about my brother, and your father. If Francisco can’t do anything without starting a war, maybe I can.”
Frankie looks at me, trying to decide whether to help me or not. I see the thoughts swirling in his head as he calculates the logistics. He’s probably thinking about how angry his father will be, but hopefully he’s also considering my feelings as well.
Finally, he nods to himself. “If we can get out of the house, then maybe Andretti will come after you.”
“Okay,” I agree hesitantly, “and then what?”
“Well, if Andretti comes after you, and you’re married to Don Corello, then that would give my father permission to break down doors. Theoretically.” Frankie finishes, pouring us each a cup.
“But then, wouldn’t I be in danger?” I ask suspiciously.
“Yes, but you would also know where your brother is,” Frankie says.
“Would you come with me?”
“I’ll come with you,” Frankie agrees. “But I’m not going to lie to my father. If we do manage to find your brother, and if my father has to step in, I want him to know the whole truth.”
“Agreed,” I say. “But don’t you think we should take a gun or something?”
“I’ve got one,” Frankie replies.
