Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
I sat down, pulling up Brianna’s old accounts. “She hasn’t taken anything. Where the hell could she go without money?” I stood again and paced. “And why the hell would she go?” A thought occurred to me. “What about the cat?”
“She took the damn cat to Carolina’s. It’s still there.”
“Then she hasn’t gone far.” Another thought hit me. “Her passport?”
“It’s in the safe.” I heard him move and the sound of the safe opening. “It’s—fuck.”
“What?”
“It’s gone.”
“How would she get it?”
“Carolina knows the combination.”
I hung up and dialed my goddaughter. She answered with a breezy hello.
“Never mind the sweet shit, Carolina. Where is she?”
“Where is who?”
“You know goddamn well who. Where is Brianna?”
“On a walkabout.”
“On a what?”
“You wanted her to discover who she is. What she wants. She decided to do that.”
“With what?” I yelled. “She has no money, no credit cards. Not even a decent fucking cell phone. Where the hell is she?”
“Why do you care? You sent her away.”
“I sent her to be looked after!”
She sighed. “Uncle Dante, I always thought you were a smart man. Brianna isn’t a child. She doesn’t need to be looked after. She’s a grown woman, and she can make her own decisions. She is doing what she wants right now. Spending time in her favorite places. She is clearing her past so she can start her future. Just like you wanted her to.” She paused. “And you and Dad aren’t the only ones with money, you know.”
“Where. Is. She?”
“Think about it.”
And she hung up.
All day, I racked my brain. Brianna had mentioned wanting to see more of Canada. But how was she funding it? Later in the afternoon, on a whim, I called my sister-in-law. The puzzle was solved instantly.
“Yes, I loaned her some money,” she said when she answered. “I don’t want to hear about it. You are being an ass. She is the best thing that ever happened to you.”
She hung up.
So I knew Brianna had money. But where would she go? She had told me her favorite place in the world was the villa. That she couldn’t imagine loving any spot more. So where—
I stood, grabbing my phone.
Gia answered on the second ring. I didn’t have to ask.
I heard my little bee singing in the background.
“I’ll be home shortly,” I snapped.
I headed to the car, stopping only to grab a few things. I drove like a madman, not caring if the police stopped me.
What the hell was she playing at? Returning to Italy? To my villa? I sent her away. I told her it was over. I fumed all the way there, barely giving the gates the chance to open fully before I was flying down the driveway, the dust on the road swirling behind me.
I opened the front door, striding in and freezing. It hit me like a ton of bricks.
Brianna was in the kitchen, singing, her sweet voice filling the empty house. Filling me. The air was saturated with the scent of cinnamon and sugar. Beckoning. Tempting.
I shook my head to clear it and headed for the kitchen. I stopped in the doorway as memories washed over me. Repeats of the sight in front of me. Brianna, her hair piled up, overalls smeared with icing, her bare feet tapping on the floor as she hummed and stirred. The bruises had faded, the stain gone from her skin—but not from my memory.
Then she looked up, and her gaze met mine. I was lost for a moment. Filled to the brim with echoes of other times just like this one that played in my head. Emotion hit me. She was here. Where she belonged. Then I remembered why I’d sent her away, and I pushed down what I was feeling, determined to remain calm and level-headed. Then she spoke and blew that out of the water.
“Oh hi, Dante.”
Hi, Dante.
As if I had been out getting her sugar. Or working in the garden. As if weeks hadn’t passed. Pain hadn’t been inflicted.
“Hi, Dante?” I questioned. “Hi, Dante? What the hell are you doing here, Little Bee?”
She frowned as if I was crazy. “Making a cake.”
“What are you doing in Italy?” I spat out.
She sighed, wiping her arm along her head, leaving behind more icing. “You really need to relax. That vein in your head is going to explode if you’re not careful. At your age, all this tension isn’t a good thing.”
At my glare, she waggled her finger. “We had an agreement, Dante. Sixty cakes. I made less than half. I’m here to fulfill my end of the bargain.”
“I let you out of the agreement. I provided money for your future. My brother will make sure you have everything you need,” I said through clenched teeth.
Jesus, she was pretty. Had she always been this pretty?
She was too thin, though. I didn’t like that. She needed to eat some of the cake she was baking.