Chapter 31: Chapter 31
◇ KEL ◇
So he was off-limits.
Fine. Whatever. I had more important things to focus on, anyway...and I shouldn't beg for him to open up to me. He would if he really wanted to. His agitation seemed real, though.
When he said I should stay away so I wouldn't get hurt, I started imagining things...some movie scenes with fictitious mafia gangsters hurting people on a regular basis. Not so fictitious after all.
Stuck mid-air more than 30,000 feet above solid ground, I sat down on the comfortable seat in the corner. I buckled up, my brain simply struggling to remain calm.
What had I gotten myself into? This was definitely not what I'd expected of a weekend get-together with his parents.
My palms covered my face as I suppressed a sigh. My logic was still trying to dispute why Miles didn't want me to go back to Italy after I visit my dad. Why exactly was he forcing me to stay in New York?
Was it because of his parents? Because of what happened to Cloe and Enzo? Because now I knew too much? But why tell me all those things about their business connections if it was top secret?
Did the Falcos trust me enough to keep it that way? Why? And why did Mr. Falco think I had something to do with the ambush? The heck?
What's even crazier? The horrifying possibility that Niccolo had been kidnapped and tortured by the Russian mafia.
Jeez. A lot could happen in a span of twenty-four hours, and my anxiety was overworking my brain with distressing thoughts.
"Mykaela?"
I quit burying my face in my hands and sat up straight. I just heard Enzo's voice. Did he need something? "Yeah?" I stood up and hurriedly approached the patient on the fancy-looking stretcher in the other side of the private plane.
Enzo's bodyguard sat near him while Enzo remained on the inclined stretcher, resting on his back. His bandaged ankle was elevated by a pillow. Behind him, the medical staff stayed vigilant. They continued monitoring his vital signs using portable equipment.
Following Miles' advice, I had kept my mouth shut about what happened. The medical staff probably weren't told that Cloe had been mangled and stabbed multiple times just this morning.
Enzo was in his own car then, so he was in no place to corroborate or question the Falcos' statements about the incident. For some reason, the local cops hadn't reached the estate yet. Maybe Ricchar and Mr. Falco preferred it that way?
"What time's your flight again?" Enzo asked while his brows slightly creased.
"Early in the morning." I stepped closer so we could talk quietly. The plane was just too crowded for privacy. An armed bodyguard sat in every corner of the jet.
"Maximiliano will stay with you in the airport while you wait?"
"I don't think so." He thought Miles would do that? "Do you feel better?"
"You keep asking that question." Enzo chuckled while his forehead furrowed. "I'll live."
Great. He seemed to be in a better mood despite his injuries and after this morning's events. I knelt beside the stretcher to be nearer to him. "Can I ask you something about...my friend?"
"Who?"
"Nic—" I glanced behind. Coast clear. Miles hadn't come out of the lavatory yet. "Have you met Niccolo Vinciguerra?"
"In person? No." Enzo squinted. "You?"
"Yeah. A year ago," I replied. "Do you know where he is?"
"Erm..." Enzo made a face. "He's working here in Italy. Right?" He waited for me to nod.
"I just wanted to ask if..." I balked, hopeful for a positive response to my inquiry.
"He's alive?" Enzo eyed me with a hint of doubt.
"Yeah." I glanced away. "Do you have any... D'you know where he is right now?"
Enzo remained still as I knelt beside him. The crease between his dark brows deepened in thought. "Stefano asked me that same question." Like me, the guy spoke in a hushed voice. "Should I know where he is?"
"No, but... Mr. Falco mentioned your brother might." I hesitated when I heard a guy cough.
Miles was back in his seat beside mine. I didn't need to look behind me. I'd come to memorize the sound of his footsteps long before.
"Your conversation earlier made me suppose he might know," I told Enzo while I helped him sit up, as per his request.
"Thanks," he murmured. "It's bothering you a lot." Before I could say anything more, Enzo leaned forward to hold my hand. "Leo didn't tell me anything. But if you want me to ask, I'll talk to him when we meet in Florence."
"You don't have to, but, it would be—"
"Okay. No problem." Enzo grinned this time, immediately silencing my worries. "What time will you arrive in New York?"
"Before lunch, I hope." I glanced at my wristwatch. Just a bit more waiting. Then I'd be on an eight-hour flight to New York. Home. Family. I had missed so much. I should've been home last week.
"Have you talked to your family?"
"I haven't talked to my mom again," I replied while Enzo absently stared at my hand in his as if he was busy thinking of something. "Reception problems."
"Will they pick you up at the airport?"
"No. I don't think so."
Enzo pulled a face. "Why not?"
"They're busy. Mom's in the hospital. I'm not sure if Jill, my sister, is with her right now. Often busy with Meesha, her baby." I bit the inside of my cheek. Regret made me look away. I just felt like they expected me to be there right now, comforting Mommy, and my Daddy Jim especially.
"So, you'll take a cab to the hospital?" Enzo asked next. "How far is it from the airport?"
"Two hours. Three if traffic's bad." I sighed and scratched my forehead. "I'll take the bus or train."
"No." Enzo glanced to his side to talk to his bodyguard. "Berto, cellulare." Enzo quickly dialed someone on the satellite phone and hurriedly gave instructions in Italian to a contact.
One of his family's security staff? Maybe. He'd mentioned a car and picking someone up at the airport. He hung up before I could finish mentally translating his instructions.
"Let's meet up in New York soon," Enzo mumbled once we were eye-to-eye again. "After I get discharged from the hospital. Alright?" He lightly squeezed my hand as he waited for me to speak up. His eyes looked like he expected an immediate confirmation.
So I nodded. "Yeah. Okay."
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