THE MAFIA’s PET

COULD TODAY GET ANY WORSE

CHAPTER FOUR

I frowned.

Maybe someone was visiting one of the neighbours.

I waited for the driver to get out.

Nobody did.

The engine seemed to be running, but the windows were too dark for me to see inside.

I stepped away from the window.

Then I went back.

Still there.

The pancake began to burn.

“s**t!”

I rushed back to the stove and flipped the pancake. One side was already burnt.

I stared at it for a moment.

“Seriously?”

I was just trying to make breakfast. Why was even that going wrong today?

I put it on a plate and stared at it.

Then glanced through the blinds again.

The jeep hadn’t moved.

A strange feeling crept up the back of my neck.

No. I was probably just being paranoid. I mean, people parked outside houses all the time. It didn’t automatically mean they were watching me.

Argh! But people around here didn’t drive cars like that. Half the houses in this neighbourhood looked like they were falling apart, and then there was this shiny black jeep sitting outside mine.

And even if someone was watching me, what was I supposed to do? Throw a pancake at them?

I let out a humourless laugh.

“I’m losing it.”

I closed the blinds and carried my breakfast to the table.

For the next few minutes, I concentrated on eating.

I wasn’t very successful.

Every few bites, my eyes drifted toward the window.

Eventually, I forced myself to finish and took my plate to the sink.

By noon, the jeep was still there.

I knew because I’d checked.

Several times.

Don’t judge me.

I had tried to distract myself by cleaning the living room, washing my clothes, and watching a movie I couldn’t follow because I kept checking the time.

Alessia still hadn’t returned.

I called her again.

It went straight to voicemail.

I stared at my phone.

That was strange.

She usually answered, even if it was just to tell me to stop disturbing her.

I sent another message.

Babe, where are you?

Still no response.

I called once more.

Voicemail.

My chest tightened.

Maybe her phone had died.

Maybe she’d gone somewhere with terrible network coverage.

Maybe—

My phone beeped.

I looked down, expecting Alessia’s name.

It wasn’t her.

The message came from an unknown number.

I opened it.

If you want to see your friend again, come to this address.

An address appeared beneath it.

Then another message arrived.

ALONE.

I read it once, then again. My fingers started going cold.

“No.”

I called Alessia immediately.

Still the same thing.

I stared at the message, desperately hoping there was some other explanation. Some stupid prank, maybe.

Then another message came in.

This time, there was a photograph.

My blood turned cold.

It was Alessia.

She was sitting on a chair, her hands tied behind her back. Her hair hung across her face, and there was something dark on the sleeve of her shirt.

I couldn’t tell if it was blood.

I didn’t want to know.

But what really got me was the paper in her hands.

Or, rather, what someone had forced her to hold.

My name was written across it.

LUCIA ABATO.

The phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor.

For a few seconds, I couldn’t move.

Then I snatched it up and zoomed in on the photograph, searching for anything that might tell me where she was.

A wall. A window. A door. Anything.

There was nothing I recognized.

My breathing grew faster.

“Oh, God. Alessia.”

I pressed the call button again.

Voicemail.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to run outside and start knocking on every door in the neighbourhood.

Instead, I stood in the middle of the living room, staring at my best friend’s terrified face.

Then I looked through the blinds.

The black jeep was still parked outside.

My phone buzzed again.

I nearly threw it.

A new message.

You have one hour, Lucia.

I stared at the screen.

Come alone, or we’ll send your friend home in pieces.

My knees nearly gave way.

I read the message again, but the words didn’t change.

I looked at the jeep.

Then at Alessia’s photograph.

I had no idea who had taken her.

I didn’t know what they wanted from me.

But somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard Antonio Dante’s voice again.

Find out everything about Lucia Abato.

All this time, I’d thought I could just leave the club and pretend none of it had happened.

God, I was stupid.

They knew where I lived. They knew about Alessia. And now they had her.

I stared at her picture again, my hands shaking.

What the hell had I gotten us into?

I rushed out of my room without even bothering to change out of my pajamas.

I needed to get to Alessia. I didn’t care about anything else. Not my clothes, not the fact that I had no idea what I was walking into. All I could think about was that picture of her tied to a chair, her terrified face staring back at me from my phone.

I couldn’t let anything happen to her.

I started running, barely watching where I was going. My slippers slapped against the ground, and my chest was already hurting when I heard a car approaching.

It slowed beside me.

Before I could turn properly, someone grabbed my arm.

“Hey! Let go of me!”