Page 43 of His to Destroy

Still nothing.

A strange, cold calm settles over me. The kind that comes just before the storm.

I move through the house—living room, kitchen, study, places that he would usually be in, but to my dismay, I meet each room emptier than the last. His drawings are still scattered on the table. His favorite stuffed bear lies half on, half off the couch. His juice glass from this evening sits abandoned with a full ring of condensation underneath it.

But no child.

My panic rises sharply. I turn and dash down the hall.

“Maria!”

She steps out of her quarters looking frazzled, adjusting her blouse like she just woke from a nap.

I don’t stop. “Where is he?”

She blinks, her brow furrowing in confusion for just a second, before realizing who I could possibly be asking about. “I—I thought he was with you.”

My blood freezes. “He was taking a nap when I left. Didn’t you see him in his room?”

“I assumed you’d taken him out with you…”

“You assumed?” My voice is shrill. “You assumed and didn’t check?”

She stammers, but I’m already past her, sprinting up the stairs, throwing open every door, every closet, every hiding place he’s ever crammed himself into before.

Nothing.

Luca is gone.

“No!” I scream out into the silence of the night in despair, allowing myself feel the fear I refused to accept when I first walked into the house and sensed that something was wrong.

***

I don’t know which of the staff calls Gaspare, but in less than twenty minutes, while I’m still yelling at everyone and no one in particular, he arrives at the house.

He storms in like a hurricane with five men behind him.

The second he sees me, I break.

“He’s gone,” I whisper. “I can’t find him. I looked everywhere.”

“Luca?” he says. “He’s not here?”

“No!” I reply angrily.

Why does everyone keep asking that? Who else would I be looking for so frantically?

He turns to one of his men. “Lock it down. Every exit, every road in a five-mile radius. I want footage pulled from every traffic camera.”

Enzo speaks into his comm. “We’re tracing all outgoing signals. We’ll triangulate.”

I fall onto the couch, shaking, barely able to think.

Gaspare crouches in front of me. His face is pale but focused.

“We’ll get him back.”

I nod because I have nothing else to hold onto.

---