Luca

"Daddy, will momma come back tomorrow?" Layla asked, crawling under the covers and looking up at me through those long eyelashes. She looked so much like her mother when she did that.

"I don't know, baby girl. But I hope so." I sighed, running my fingers through her long dark hair. It was tangled and I should probably comb it, but that was always Charlotte's department. I didn't even know where her hair brush would be.

Layla's lips stuck out in a tiny pout, and I could see her eyes filling up with tears. "Me too."

"I've got an idea!" I mustered up the biggest smile I could manage, wrapping my arms around her and snuggling in next to her amidst the ruffled pink sheets. Why don't we sing the song mommy always sings you? The one about the tornado?"

Layla looked at me like I was speaking another language. "It's not about a tornado, daddy. It's a rainbow." She said, emphasizing the word.

"Haven't you ever seen the Wizard of Oz?" I chuckled.

"Wizard like Harry Potter?" Layla perked up a bit.

"Not exactly." I made a mental note to ask Charlotte why Layla knew about Harry Potter, but not a classic like the Wizard of Oz. For a brief moment, I forgot that I might not have that chance. "Why don't you start it? How does it go?"

She started to sing. I didn't know the words very well, but I joined in as best as I could.

When we were done singing, I pulled the covers up over her and kissed her for head. "Good night, sweetie. I'll be right next-door if you need me. I love you."

"I love you, too." She beamed, completely oblivious to everything going on around her. Looking at her was breaking my heart even more than it already was. I turned her nightlight on quickly and left the room before I started crying again.

I sat on my bed, realizing how mentally exhausted I was from today. Elena had taken everything in stride, but I could tell she was in shock. She didn't come right out and say it, but I knew she blamed me. How could she not? After all, I was the one who put Charlotte in such danger after Elena had spent her entire life trying to keep her out of this. And Layla didn't really even understand what was going on. At least she was somewhat of a distraction, but it was hard to look at her and not see Charlotte.

Angelo and Marco had still not come up with much. They were chasing down a few leads, but nothing has panned out yet. They also weren't leaving me alone, worried about what I might do. I didn't need to be babysat, but I knew my behavior earlier had worried them. I knew with every passing minute that she was gone, the odds of bringing her home got lower and lower. I tried to cling on to any shred of hope I could, but there wasn't much.

I was losing my mind with nothing to do. There was no way it was physically possible to stop thinking about it. I imagined all the ways they were hurting her, and that would haunt me for the rest of my life. It was too painful to think about what was happening to her, so all I could do was focus on my anger. I could plan how I was going to make Silvano and his men suffer, and make sure everyone in the world knew my family was not to be messed with.

I watched my phone obsessively, waiting for someone, anyone, to call with an update. We had to have something by now, didn't we? I should have put some type of tracker on her. If I ever got the chance to again, I would.

I grabbed my laptop to try to do some research on my own. I didn't really even know what I was looking for, but at least it gave me the illusion that I was contributing somehow. I had promised Angelo I would step away long enough to spend some time with Layla and get some rest, but that was proving to be impossible. Charlotte was the only thing on my mind. Resting wasn't an option.

There was already an article about the shooting on a local newspaper's website. They identified the man as Hector Cruz, a former gang banger from a few towns over in Catania. That sounded familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on why. I wanted it to make sense in my mind, and I spent so much energy trying to connect it to something that I wasn't sure what was true and what wasn't anymore. Maybe Angelo was right.

All of a sudden, loud shrieks came across the hall from Layla's room. I jumped up, sprinting across the hall and nearly throwing her bedroom door off its hinges, not even giving myself a moment to think. Layla was sitting up in the center of her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks and her brown hair going wild.

"Baby, what's wrong?" I rushed towards her, scooping her into my arms and cradling her as if she was still a baby. "Are you okay?"

"My... tummy... hurts...." she mumbled between sobs. "I... want...mommy."

My heart sank. "I'm sorry, sweetie. Can you show me where it hurts?"

She pointed to a spot right in the center of her stomach. I had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with all the ice cream I had let her eat after dinner. I knew Charlotte's warnings about it, but I couldn't help myself from trying to make her feel better. Now it had backfired, though.

"Why don't we get you some water and see if that helps?" I stood up, rubbing her back and trying to calm her down. I carried her into her bathroom and filled a glass.

"I don't want water!" She cried, nuzzling into my shoulder. "I just want mommy."

Her crying for Charlotte was truly heartbreaking. I didn't know how to soothe her, because honestly, I was feeling the same way. I needed her, too. Charlotte would know how to handle this. She would know how to make our daughter feel better. Actually, we wouldn't even be in this situation if Charlotte was here. She never would've given Layla two bowls of ice cream with whip cream and chocolate before bed.

Today was not my day. Not only have I let my wife get kidnapped by a ruthless mafia Don, I was also proving just how shitty of a parent I could be. Layla deserved better, Charlotte deserved better. All I did was continue to let both of them down.

I didn't have time to feel sorry for myself, though. My girls needed me, and I was going to have to figure this out on my own.

"I know, baby. I wish mommy was here too. Why don't you come sleep with me until you're feeling better?" Normally, Charlotte and I didn't let her sleep in our bed, but desperate times call for desperate measures. She continued to cry, but she didn't protest.

I set her in Charlotte's normal spot and pulled the covers up over her. Her deep sobs had turned more into soft whimpers now. I laid down on the bed beside her and rubbed her back. "You know, when I was little and couldn't sleep at night, Grandma used to play me music. Do you want to try that?"

Layla sniffled and then nodded, snuggling into my side.

Okay, at least we were making progress. I smiled, scrolling through my phone and finding a playlist. I started playing it for her and even after just a few seconds, she relaxed. Her breathing evened out and I could tell she was almost asleep. Somehow, I managed to get her to calm down.

"Daddy, you're not going to go away like mommy, are you?" Layla looked up at me through those long eyelashes littered with tears.

"Of course not, baby. I'm not going anywhere and I'm going to bring mommy back. I promise." I leaned down and kissed her forehead, trying to hold back my own tears.

"I want mommy..." she whispered, just before drifting into sleep.

"Me too, baby." I tucked a few random strands of her hair behind her ear. "Me too."

I guess I didn't realize how exhausted I really was, because I drifted off to sleep and woke up several hours later just as the sun was peaking through the window. I stretched my arms above my head, realizing Layla had intertwined her body around mine. She was clutching my arm as tightly as she could, as if she thought she could keep me here herself. I didn't know how much more of this I could take, watching my poor daughter try to cope with her mother being gone. I hated every second of it.

I couldn't bring myself to disturb her, but I needed to get moving and see if Angelo and Marco had found out anything. I lost vital hours while I was sleeping and I didn't have many of those hours left. I had to find Charlotte, and I needed to do it today.

Once Layla was awake, we went downstairs, and I made her some cereal. Jenni was going to come stay with her today so that I could get back to work. Hopefully, I had enough time off in Angelo's eyes, because I was ready to get this shit taken care of. I wasn't going to spend another night comforting my daughter as she sobbed for her mother.

"Here you go, baby." I slid a bowl of cereal at her and poured some coffee for myself. I wasn't taking any chances this morning. I gave her Cheerios instead of anything sugary.

"There's too much milk in this." Layla scrunched her nose up, sliding the bowl away from her.

"Can't you just eat it, sweetie? Aunt Jenni is going to be here soon." I tried to reason with her.

"Mommy always gives me new cereal when she puts too much milk in. It gets too soggy." She whined, letting her head fall backwards dramatically.

"Lay, I'm not going to waste all that cereal. If you eat it quick, you won't even notice it's soggy." She frowned, continuing to stare at the bowl in front of her.

Soon, she started spooning the milk into a nearby cup, leaving a trail of milk droplets the entire way. "Layla, you're making a huge mess. Just eat the cereal. Please?" It was amazing how much bargaining I was willing to do with a 3-year-old.

She ignored me and continued her quest. "Okay. That's enough." I said, getting frustrated.

Before the words were even all the way out of my mouth, she knocked the cup over, sending milk flying in all directions on the counter and floor.

"Damn it, Layla!" I bellowed, quickly reaching for paper towels. "I told you to stop doing that!"

Little tears welled up in her eyes as she looked back at me. All of a sudden, she burst into tears like water from a dam and ran out of the room.

"Fuck!" I shrieked, swiping my arm across the counter and sending Cheerios flying too. I ran my fingers through my hair, pacing. I immediately regretted yelling at her. My patience was all over the place, but she hadn't meant to make such a mess and I knew this was all really wearing on her, too. Yelling at her helped nothing. Just another reason I was a fucked up father.

"Everything okay in here?" Elena peeked her head into the kitchen with her eyes wide. Just what I needed, my mother-in-law seeing that lovely display.

"No." I shook my head, sighing heavily. "Everything is most certainly not okay.

Elena frowned in sympathy and set her purse down on the counter. "Luca, what can I do to help?"

I let out a sharp laugh. "Why are you even still speaking to me? I let your daughter get kidnapped, I have no idea what the fuck I am doing with Layla, I completely failed both of them. And you."

Elena rolled her eyes. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Luca?"

I glared at her, ignoring her question.

"I'm serious, Luca. This isn't you. The Luca I know wouldn't waste valuable time feeling sorry for himself while his wife is somewhere out there missing. You're one of the most powerful men in the world. If anyone can save Charlotte, it's you. You haven't failed anyone."

"I'm not feeling..." I tried to defend.

"Yes, you are. Are you even listening to me? You are not a failure and you haven't let anyone down. Silvano has a vendetta against Antonio, him taking Charlotte has nothing to do with you."

"I should have been with her. She never should have been by herself. Even if this is about Antonio, I could have..."

Elena rolled her eyes again. "Luca, get real for a minute. You can't be with her every second. She's an adult. If you tried to babysit her, she'd lose her mind. She knew exactly what she was getting into with you, you know that. She knew the risks and still chose to be with you, so stop carrying all this blame."

She put her hand on top of mine.

"It's okay to be upset and to grieve, but it's not okay to let it cripple you. Charlotte is alive, and she's waiting for you to come get her. You're a wonderful father and husband, and you need to stop focusing on things that you can't change, and worry about the ones you can. She was taken. We can't change that, but you still can fix this. Go bring my daughter home."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. "What if I can't bring her back?"

"That's not an option, Luca." She hardened, trying to hold back her own tears.

I nodded, absorbing her words.

"I think I should take Layla back to New York with me." She suggested softly.

I stiffened. The thought of letting Layla out of the country without me was daunting. Who knew if Silvano was going to be content with Charlotte? What if he came for Layla too and I wasn't around to help her?

If I found him fast enough, he wouldn't have the chance.

"That's probably a good idea." I agreed, realizing she was safer back home at the estate than she would be if she stayed here. There was no way I could be with her and find Charlotte at the same time.

"You can do this, Luca." She gave me a sympathetic smile and disappeared up the stairs towards Layla's room.

I hated admitting she was right, but it was hard to deny. I had been operating in sort a daze and putting everyone else in even more danger. Not anymore, though. The only thing that mattered was bringing her home.

Once Elena and Layla left, I got right to work. I apologized to Layla before saying goodbye and sent them on their way. Being without Layla was going to be tougher than I could ever even imagine, but I knew it was for the best. She didn't need to be around this.

Soon after, Marco, Angelo, and Carlo came over and started briefing me on everything they had learned overnight. It wasn't much, but at least we were making some progress. Silvano had several known associates in Palermo and we were working on narrowing it down right now.

My phone started buzzing on the table and I picked it up cautiously, not recognizing the number.

"Hello?" I said flatly, not knowing what to expect on the other end.

There was no answer at first, just the sound of harsh breathing.

"It's been a long time, Luca." His scratchy voice was immediately recognizable. I stiffened, gesturing for Marco to start tracing the call.

"Silvano. You've got something I want." I gritted my teeth, trying to keep myself as composed as I could.

"That I do. Although, I'm starting to see why you're gone to such great lengths to keep her from me for all this time. She's a little soft."

I sucked in a sharp breath, wondering how he had come to that conclusion. Was he hurting her? Torturing her? I turned a paperclip over in my hand, poking it into my palm hard enough to draw blood, desperate to focus on something other than what he was doing to her. "What the fuck do you want?"

"You'll know my demands when I'm ready to give them." He chuckled. "It was a mistake to kill Cruz."

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about." I lied.

"Interesting. Your wife knows exactly what I am talking about." I could hear him set the phone down on something.

"No, please no." Charlotte's strained voice came through the other end.

"Charlotte!" I shrieked, praying to God that she could hear me. "Baby, can you hear me? I'm coming to get you. I swear to God, just hang on, okay?"

"No, I..." Something cut her off mid-sentence, muffling her words.

What I heard next was absolutely bone chilling.

Flesh hitting flesh.

A power drill fire up.

Sickening laughter.

Charlotte's blood-curdling screams.

The air was sucked out of my lungs as I listened to them torturing her, with nothing I could possibly do to stop it. My heart was being ripped out of my chest.

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