We end up at a small café tucked into an alley, just a few tables set out front. Lorenzo murmurs something to one of the waiters in a low voice. The man doesn’t look like a waiter at all. He’s in a suit, standing stiff and alert, more like a bodyguard. My stomach tightens when he glances at me, gives a slight nod, and heads back inside.
We sit and make small talk. I’m careful to keep everything impersonal, just in case. I don’t mention Vanessa, Gino, or my marriage. To them, I’m just the American lawyer they sent.
After a few plates of meat and cheese, the “waiter” returns with coffee. The brothers start drinking theirs. I take a sip of mine.
Within seconds, something feels wrong. My vision blurs, the sounds around me dulling like I’m underwater. One of them starts talking, but the words don’t make sense. My eyelids grow heavy, my body slackening as I struggle to stay upright.
Then everything goes black.
TWENTY-FOUR
VANESSA
The last few days have been hell. I convinced Gino to let me stay at my place after just one night because of my work schedule and how awful I’ve been feeling. Awful as in barely eating and throwing up constantly. I tell myself it’s stress, because no one has heard from Mateo in three days.
Gino keeps saying he probably just doesn’t have service or Wi-Fi, but when I asked him yesterday, I saw the fear in his eyes.
Feeling a little better this morning, I decide not to call in sick again. Alonso is my ride to the hospital now. When I step outside, he’s leaning against his SUV, scrolling on his phone.
“Hey, Alonso,” I say, forcing a brighter tone than I feel.
“Hey, Ness,” he replies with a small grin. “You ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go.” He opens the passenger door for me, then climbs in and starts the engine. For once, he’s quiet.
A few minutes pass before he finally speaks. “I know you’re freaking out about Mateo. We all are. Gino’s been workingnonstop, barely sleeping, calling everyone he knows, trying to track him down.”
At first, I thought Mateo just lost his phone or left it at the hotel. After the first day with no word, everyone started to worry. Gino sent Gabe to Italy to look for him, but so far he’s come up with nothing. I don’t even know where all the money is coming from, but if it brings Mateo back, I don’t care.
My stomach rolls again, sharp and sudden. “Can you pull over?” I ask. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He eases the car to the side. “You okay? You don’t look good.”
“I really don’t feel great.”
The second he stops, I push the door open and throw up in the grass. When I straighten, I wipe my mouth, mortified. “Well, that’s embarrassing.”
He hands me a bottle of water and a napkin. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
“You’ve been sick for days now,” he says carefully. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”
“Probably just stress. Or a stomach bug.” But my gut tells me it’s not that simple.
He hesitates, then glances at me. “Do you think you could be pregnant?”
I pause, caught off guard. “Um… doubtful.”
“Why?”
“TMI, but I was on birth control until recently. So I really don’t think so.”
“But it’s still possible, right?”
“I guess, but it’s highly unlikely.”
