Page 158 of Double Trouble for the Mafia Prince

It carried whispers, debts, weapons.

It carried the names of men no longer listed on ledgers.

Rafa knows every one of them.

When nothing comes except for the tight pull of desperation, I release a groan of pure frustration and push away from the table, leaving the war room in favor of the south wing suite.

The girls are in there with their nanny.

I take her aside for a moment and brief her on the status of things.

She goes tight-lipped, color draining from her face, and gestures toward the girls.

"What do I tell them? They’re sharper than they let on."

Instead of leaving it to her, I lean down and beckon both my daughters into my arms.

They nuzzle into my neck, smelling of oat shampoo and cinnamon cookies.

My throat constricts painfully, but I force the words out. "Girls, there’s something you should know. Mom’s…mom’s not here right now, but she’ll be back soon."

If they guess anything, they don’t show it.

Instead, Alessia touches the stubble on my jaw. "Is she safe?"

I resist the impulse to roar.

"She is," I lie through my teeth. "And I’m working on bringing her back very soon."

Arietta nods with all the conviction of a child who has a mother who would never leave her children.

"Good. Maybe she went to a tea party. She’ll be back soon, Papa, don’t worry."

I’m about to choke out a sob, so before that actually happens, I kiss the tops of their heads briefly, nod at the nanny, and stumble out of the room as fast as my legs will carry me.

Out in the corridor, I shut my eyes.

Think.

Where would they go?

Not to the city.

Il Sangue Nero has already drawn too much attention there.

Not to any of the Rossi estates under surveillance.

Those are already flagged.

If they wanted to hide her, they would need a place with loyal infrastructure, but not someplace obvious.

They would need discretion.

They would need history.

I push off from the table and begin pacing again.

The voices of the past come slowly, fragments at first.