****
Sleep didn’t come easy. He only had two or three hours before he received word of visitors. He slipped on his robe to leave the room when he heard his daughter speak. Eve stood in her crib. She wore a lilac purple sleep jumper with the feet attached. She blinked clear blue eyes at him and put her pacifier back in her mouth. Giovanni smiled. Often times when he was young his father would take him from his mother’s arms and bring him along when he conducted business. He sometimes wondered why, other than to school him. Now staring at Eve he understood. She was his anchor, his tie to his humanity. He needed her love as much as she depended on him to be strong and provide for them.
Giovanni went to her crib. His daughter’s arms were outstretched for him. He heaved her up into his arms, and she rested her face under his neck. She smelled of powder and lavender baby lotion. He began to hum her favorite nursery rhyme to her as he carried her out of the room and through the dark halls. They entered a reading room on the lower level where Franco’s father and brothers waited. It was barely morning. The men gathered paused on conversation and stared at Eve. Several came over to kiss the baby. She eventually turned her face away not wanting the attention. Giovanni chuckled. His daughter kisses were reserved for him only.
Careful of her anxiety, he waved off those trying to greet her and approached his desk to have a seat. His daughter rested in his lap with her face pressed to his chest.
“You summoned us early. We had plans to arrive Christmas day.” Caesar Sr. said with a nervous smile in his voice. “Your men, none of them will tell us why we were brought here.”
“Papa, stay calm.” Caesar Jr., the eldest son said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He was a tall lean Sicilian man of about twenty-eight years old. He worked as a schoolteacher in Palermo. The older man looked visibly shaken. However, he had a controlled manner that Giovanni respected. He nodded his head as a show of respect and waited for Giovanni to speak. Caesar, had eight sons, and all of them except Franco were present. Giovanni’s chest tightened with pangs of regret over the injustice. When did his family spiral so far out of control? It felt as if he’d been living in a fog of chaos for two long years. He needed to bring them all out of the darkness or there would be no future for his daughter. He cut a steely gaze to Dominic who stood in the corner of the room, watchful, expressionless.
“Franco is missing,” Giovanni announced.
The men began to speak at once. Eve sat up in his arms and looked around at the confusion, Giovanni calmed her by rocking his chair a bit, and she rested her head on his shoulder. She did so for a brief moment, but Eve curiously looked back at the others, openly observant.
Franco’s brother Octavio stepped to Giovanni’s desk. “How long? What do you mean missing?”
“That is why we’ve summoned you. Do you remember Mira Ellison? She was the fashion designer out of America? The one we believed died.”
Several of them looked to Eve then to Giovanni.
Caesar Sr. answered, “Yes.”
“She’s alive. I’m sure you are aware of this. This is my daughter Eve.”
“We heard from the family that she was returned to you.” Junior said.
“Well my enemies know. I believe they are plotting against me, us, the family. That is why I’m worried that we haven’t heard from Franco in twenty-four hours. Not since he left for work. I need to know if you’ve spoken to him. If any of you have had contact. I also need to know where you think he would go if he were in trouble.”
“What about his wife? Wouldn’t she know?” Junior asked. He grabbed his brother Octavio by the shoulder and pulled him back.