Chapter 25: Chapter 25

◇ KEL ◇

This day just kept getting weirder and weirder.

First, the ambush.

Then Enzo, eagerly offering me money for my "services".

I took a deep breath. Now I was holding a signed check worth an infinite amount of euros.

What on Earth?

He signed it. The guy actually jotted his signature above the dotted line.  Apparently Enzo wasn't kidding when he said he would "pay for everything".

Barely a minute ago, his bodyguard knocked on the door and just handed me a blank check like it was nothing.  "He wants you to use it whenever you need," Berto had advised before he simply walked down the stairs.

Seriously? Why? Why would Enzo trust me that much?

Baffled and queasy, I placed the stiff piece of paper on the nightstand. I should just finish ridding the guest room of my stuff. Miles might drive me out of this place anytime now, like he promised.

As I put toiletries back inside my luggage, once again a few knocks on the door distracted my concentration.  I waited for someone to speak up.

Was it Miles?  I badly hoped he would soothe my worries with a bunch of good news to end this long, horrible day on a better note.

"Signorina? Signore Stefano is waiting for you downstairs." A frail woman's voice spoke from the other side of the door. "Signorina Mykaela?"

"Ms. Ofelia? I'll be right outside." I sighed and scanned the room.  My boots were beside the locked door, just waiting for me.

What did Mr. Falco want with me? Maybe Miles convinced his parents I needed to leave Italy now to visit my father in the hospital.

Hopeful but quite bothered by misgivings, I put on a clean shirt and muttered a quick prayer.

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The walk to the patio didn't take more than two minutes. Some armed guards in dark clothes welcomed me with faint bows of their heads and mostly nonchalance. The outdoor table looked cleaner than I remembered, with a few plates of bread and cups of tea on its white-painted edges.

Mr. Falco sat alone and acknowledged my presence with a slight smile that made his graying beard move a bit. "Per favore."   He was reading the papers as if nothing happened. He nodded to the chair to his immediate right.

"You wanted to talk to me, Signore?" I hesitated but sat down on the vacant chair, anyway.

"Sì." Mr. Falco put the newspaper away and flicked his palm twice, a curt gesture to tell the bodyguards to leave us alone.

The young men walked off and left the patio, but the tallest bodyguard remained by the stairs, as if to keep watch.

Trying to seem casual and calm about it took some effort, especially in front of Miles' forever straight-faced father. A lot of unanswered questions  desperately clawed to escape my stifled thoughts. Where was Miles?

"Maximiliano told us you need to leave as soon as possible because your father's critical in the hospital?" Mr. Falco leaned forward to grab his teacup.

"Sì, Signore," was all I could say. I put on a smile; I knew it would look forced, but, as their guest, I'd better behave politely.  Since our first meeting, I'd only heard Mr. Falco use his native tongue.  I had no idea he spoke English fluently.

Oh. Right.  Businessman—wealthy, influential, well-connected. Meaning, he had to deal with multinational associates on a regular basis. Of course he spoke the language well.

I hadn't had the chance to talk to him alone until today, and, to my wary senses, this private talk wasn't about my refusal to stay a few more days in this estate. It could be about something else entirely.

"Do you need help?" Mr. Falco eyed me when I didn't say anything else.  "With your father's situation at the moment, I assume you need some financial assistance."

Financial help?  He's offering me money?

"He's in critical care. Correct?" Mr. Falco stared again.

"Sì," was all I replied after seconds of silence. And my dad would be having major surgery soon, I wanted to say, but kept tight-lipped instead.

"How much do you need?" the don casually asked. "I know for a fact healthcare in America is not for everyone. Do you need anything?"

1) Hospital bills

2) Bank loans

3) Student loans

4) Yes, Signore. I'd like a check worth half a million dollars, please.

"I, um..." I looked away, confused as to what to actually respond with. "Thank you, Signore, but you don't have to." I gave him a curt smile while my entire face warmed up in embarrassment.

Miles had helped me enough the past couple of months, and not just financially. It would be too imposing if I also sought help from his parents. Just out-and-out embarrassing.

"Sei sicura che?" Mr. Falco squinted his gray eyes framed by rectangular specs.  "Just want to help."  Mr. Falco studied my reaction when I didn't answer right away.

"Sì, Signore. Ma grazie per l'offerta."

"Bene, se lo dice lei..." Mr. Falco nodded and drank more tea.  "Tea?"

"No thanks." I forced another smile to stay on my lips.

"I called for Leandro Tomassini's private plane. Lorenzio's older brother."

"Oh. Enzo's bro—  I mean, Mr. Tomassini's brother."  Of course the Tomassinis had a private plane. Those guys weren't kidding around.

Mr. Falco nodded slightly.  "Their security staff and a medical team boarded that plane. You and Maxim will accompany Lorenzio back to the city, while Ricchar will drive Cloe to the nearest emergency room. Then Maxim will take you to the airport, so you can go back home. See your family."

Home.  I would be going back home.  I hunched over on the steel chair. I should feel excitement and relief at the news. But my current thoughts just weren't cooperating.  Why not take Cloe with us?

"Fair enough?"

"Sì, Signore. Grazie."

"My offer still stands, Mykaela." Mr. Falco took a bite of the toasted bread.

"That's too generous of you, but, really...it's okay."

"Just think of it as, me thanking you for helping Cloe and Lorenzio." Mr. Falco gave me a quick smile and resumed reading the daily paper.  "And my son cares about you. Very much. So I don't see any problem with our family helping yours."

"Grazie." I bit on my lip; I simply had nothing more to say.

"Tell Maximiliano to call me if you need any help."  Mr. Falco then stood up and motioned for me to do the same. "Walk with me to the basement. Something else we need to discuss in private."

◇

Mr. Falco gently held my shoulder as we took the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing within the mansion's cold basement.

A gun-toting bodyguard tailed us while their boss led me into the basement,  now empty of the medical supplies I'd used earlier to clean and stitch up Cloe and Enzo's wounds.  We stepped inside one of the old storage rooms after the guard switched on the lights.

To give us some privacy, the guard walked out of the room after I heard the door being locked.

"We need to talk about your family."  Mr. Falco walked past me, his tone low and serious, matching the dark, ominous feeling growing in my gut. His specs didn't obscure the restraint he was trying to maintain as he stood close to me.  "Do you know why, Mykaela?"

What did he want to talk about now? Why was he suddenly interested in my family?  "I-I'm sorry. What are we talking about?" My heart rate quickened at his piercing stare. I stood still in the middle of the room.

"Before you lived with Maxim..." Mr. Falco paused to glance at me. "Did your parents know? Did they...know of our business associates?" Mr. Falco cleared his throat and glanced away.  "You've met Niccolo Vinciguerra last year. Correct?"

His tone assured me he had much more to say, so I didn't speak or move an inch. Why was he asking about Niccolo now?

"Lorenzio's father had some hackers tracked down last week. They found one of them, after Niccolo eventually gave up their names. And your name was also on his list."

Hearing Niccolo's name again instantly gave me goosebumps. What did he mean by my name being on Niccolo's "list"?  I couldn't even think of anything to say.  A bunch of disturbing images just flooded my brain.

The Tomassinis hired some people to track down Miles' ex? But why? And why would Mr. Falco say that my name was on "the list"?

"Lorenzio's family has been experiencing some...issues with security lately. Quite paranoid these days, and they think you being here had something to do with the ambush." Mr. Falco maintained his trademark poker face, something I didn't think would put the fear of God into me. Until today.

Was he saying what happened to Cloe and Enzo could be my fault?   Holy cow.  My hands just felt clammy.  I thought hard. For now, I could only speculate on why the Falcos' business partners thought I had something to do with the ambush.

"You see, Mykaela, we all have priorities." Mr. Falco crossed his arms, frowning somewhat. "In my life, I only have one:  my family. And to take care of them, I have to make sure I can provide for them, everything they need, everything they want in life."

Huh? What was he trying to say now?

"It's a never-ending sacrifice. But, to me, it's why I'm here on this Earth."

Nervous, I only stared at the bloodstained floor,  preoccupied with more questions complicating my thoughts.

Where the heck's Miles?

Why would they even think I had anything to do with the ambush?

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