“NO – ”Niccolo protested.
“YES,” I snarled. “And we draw their attention LOUDLY. Agreed?”
Lars nodded. “Agreed.”
“At least take a FEW men!”Niccolo begged.
“NO.”
“Then take Renzo! Have him DRIVE you, for god’s sake!”
I looked at Lars.
He shrugged. “He’s a damn good driver.”
I was sorely regretting leaving Rachel at the mansion.
“Alright, go get him,” I said.
Lars nodded and hustled down the hall.
“What about Giorgio?”Niccolo said.“If he started out in Fiesole, he should still be en route to Adriano. He could come meet you.”
“Niccolo – ”
“PLEASE – I’m BEGGING you – ”
“Alright,” I snapped. “Fine.”
“Thank GOD. I’ll call him, but turn on your ‘Find My’ app so he can track you.”
“Alright. Niccolo?”
“Yes?”
“If I don’t make it – ”
“STOP.”
“Niccolo – ”
“Neither of us has wonderful odds at the moment, Dario, but it’s no good to talk like that.”
“Alright,” I said. “Give my love to the others.”
“I will. Give my love to Alessandra.”
“I will.”
I hung up on my brother…
Knowing that might be the last time I ever talked to him.
I slipped back into Alessandra’s room. She was sitting in a reclining chair, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth.
Dr. Aiello looked over at me. “Good news. It does indeed appear to be Braxton-Hicks contractions – false labor brought on by stress. I’ve been leading Alessandra through some breathing exercises, and the contractions are fading.”
“Excellent,” I said. “Thank you. Now I need a moment alone with my wife.”
