Ehi Bellas,

Hope it was a worthy read. Bare with me ... it's a long chap. I pray to God that regardless it resonates with you.

Here's the Thirty-seventh installation of Italian Coffee House.

Please

ENJOY XD. to each and everyone of you for your unfailing love and support.

I just want to take a moment to send the praise up. Thank for blessing my perspective, my mind and my hands. Without HIM, there would be no Me, therefore there would be no Italian Coffee House.

XO,

Ang

------

"Don't touch me," Krysta hissed coolly, pushing out of my embrace. The terrible hoarse masking her voice, which was usually used as a tool for soothing.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Tey usher Mario down the hall, leaving us some time to cool our heads. I briefly noticed the blood staines that marred the white fabric of his cotton shirt. The sight of blood sent a cold chill down my spine enforcing my need to get my wife back as soon as possible. "You had no right Nikki. Am I not old enough to fight my own battles? Do you even trust me to make the right choices?"

"Krys it's not like that." It stung to witness my sister's pale blue orbs become glossy with unshed tears. Tears I somehow managed to put there. We were at odds with each other and I didn't fancy the idea one bit. She was my baby sister and the last thing I wanted to do was to hurt her. That would've very well put me on the same category as our mother. Gosh couldn't I catch a break? Everything had been running smoothly. Now, I was reduced to walking on eggshells because the two women I cared for most were suddenly drifting away from me?

"Then tell me brother, what is it like?" She retorted.

"THAT WOMAN HAS CAUSED YOU UNBEARABLE PAIN!" I snapped, a clear signal that it was time to cool off, if anything else, but once I began the words kept spilling from my mouth like upchuck. "YOU MAY BE TOUGH, BUT I'M YOUR BIG BROTHER! IT IS MY JOB TO PROTECT YOU!!! WHEN SHE LEFT, IT WAS I WHO PICKED UP THE TATTERED PIECES OF YOUR LIFE, AND TRIED TO PUT THEN BACK TOGETHER AS BEST I COULD! I HATED WHAT SHE DID TO YOU! I STILL DO AND THERE'S NO WAY ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH THAT I WOULD ALLOW THAT WOMAN TO COME WITHIN TWO FEET OF YOU! TO SIMPLY MENTION HER WOULD'VE SENT YOU BACK TO THAT DARK TIME IN YOUR LIFE!"

"WELL IT'S A LITTLE LATE FOR THAT NOW DON'T YOU THINK?" Krysta too had lost her nerve. She walked briskly to me, stopping mere inches from my face, a vein bulged beside her neck as she yelled at me. There was no mistaking it. To say she was royally pissed would have been understating things. She could clear a town with her temper, another trait she regrettably acquired from me.

D' hell did she just say?

"What did you just say?" My voice dipped to barely a whisper.

"Your plan failed," She replied unethused, searching my eyes for evidence that her meaning had resonated with me. "It seemed we were destined to run into each other whether you had anything to do with it or not."

"What?" It seemed that I was proned to a lot of growling lately.

"We ran into mother," Her words hit me like a brick wall. As of late, a lot more than usual, things kept wearing on my already fleeting patience. Namely, our mother for one. The woman could sure make her presence felt and had an irritating knack for popping up when and where everyone least expected it. My sister knew little of her exploits and whereabouts by design, and I'd rather keep it that way. Krysta's been through enough heartache as it was, without adding our mother's misguided threats and malicious intent to the mix. Though I was certain for the most part, when she had claimed to want custody of Krysta, the woman had been lieing through her teeth. Like everything else with her, it had been a facade. It wasn't nearly as far-fetched an idea as it ought to be to perceive my baby sister's sudden grief. Also, it may just be my possessiveness or intense need to protect my wife's best interest, but I also didn't take too kindly to her being near my wife either.

After that night at the Gala, Ada had expressed her concerns as well as discomfort about being around my mother. The mere thought that the woman had the audacity to belittle my wife filled me with rage. She didn't have the high moral authority to pass any judgement, nor was she in any position to do so, baring in mind her own track record. It didn't take a lot to figure out that she didn't like my Ada. Which didn't bother me in the least because Ada was everything my mother was not. Sweet, kind, nurturing, considerate, compassionate and complex, and that's just to name a few. Ada was keen on staying away from mother, long before we were even expecting, and generally I'd say she probably has that effect on people. That's why, for more reasons than one, I didn't like that Krysta and Ada both had to face that woman without me.

Krysta inhaled deeply, wiping the tears that sprung from her bloodshot eyes. It was clear that she was making a conscious effort to calm herself. Something I would've otherwise been able to do, if I hadn't caused her tantrum in the first place. Damn! As of late, I couldn't seem to do anything right. Her eyes were fiery as they bore into mine, and though she had every reason to be angry, I knew well enough to read the underlying issue. She was terrified for Ada, her sister-in-law. Krysta had grown quite attached to her, being that she was the only tangible mother-like figure she knew on a personal level, but it was more than that. They become close friends, so the thought of losing Ada was unbearable. It had been no shock that they'd hit it off considering the familiar terrain. They had both endured great heartships that brought them closer together. They grew to love and confide in one another, perhaps even where I was concerned. Now all at once, the very foundation with which she had been acquainted, shook with an unquenchable fury.

"We should steer our focus to Ada. Gosh," Krysta eyes were glossy with unshed tears again. She stood there crying into her hands and I was powerless to comfort her. I hated this. Ignoring the tension, I made my way to her wrapping her in my arms. She didn't resist. Instead, she circled her arms around my waist, holding on to keep her balance. "She deserves our undivided attention."

"Krys I'm so sorry you had to witness that." I spoke into the crown of her head, placing a kiss there.

"Nikki ... this is not your fault either." She looked up at me with remorseful eyes. My sister was too darn mature for her own good. The mere fact that she knew that I'd beat down on myself, revealed to me the remnants of our past.

"Thanks sis," I offered, though unconvinced and she picked up on it.

"Nikki ... I mean it." Krysta reassured me. Though she was battling her own demons, she stepped in to help me face mine. Yet she thought I would let her face hers alone. I'm her big brother, her guardian. If not for that very reason, what purpose did I have on the earth?

"I want a full run-down from the second you ran into our mother leading up to the ..." For the life of me I couldn't get the words out. As though somehow if I said it, I would never be able to touch her again. "Round up the others, I'll meet you in the kitchen in ten minutes."

I'm not sure I could handle what I'm certain would be a difficult story to tell but I knew if it would help to get my wife back then I had to. If Ada were here at the moment, she'd tell me not to give up. So I won't. There would be no stone left unturned.

-:-

The hour was late. A sixteen horal mental countdown had ensued. I was a tired frazzled mess. A king without a queen. An Alpha without a Luna. The Sun without the Moon. To make matters worse that one call that would determine our fates had proved futile. The one call I was certain would tip the scale. Fixated on the hebetudinous white ceiling, my thoughts strayed to unpleasant scenarios that wreaked havoc on my mind. I'd been in bed more than a few hours now, but for the life of me, slumber never came. Instead, it left me to suffer the horrendous events of the night over and over again, on loop. To wonder about my once and future queen in her darkest hour. About the terrible ordeal she would endure. Whether she would be steadfast in her fate, or wither away in her grief.

A distant ringing caught my ear. Faint enough that I would've otherwise summed it up to having been in a dream, only sleep had evaded me since I first settled down to get try to get some rest. I shot out of bed, turning the bedroom inside-out happening upon my slacks which rang with a vaguely familiar tone. It was the burner phone. My heart near lept into my throat. I had called one person with the phone, and the chances of someone misdialling were slim. Therefore, no one else could possibly be calling me but the man I'd spoken to earlier tonight. Bracing myself, I accepted the call for what I only hoped would be, the beginning of reckoning. Inhaling deeply, I pressed the phone to my ear.

"Mr. Casimiro is it?" A feminine voice rang through the earpiece, surprising me in the process, the familiar Italian twang sliding off her tongue.

"Who wants to know?" My solemnity went into overdrive. At this point, I possessed neither the time, nor the patience to deal in games. I was at a crossroads and my most vulnerable yet, which translated to my being on edge and the probability of me doing something rash or stupid, according to my sister. There was no doubt that Ada had stabilized me in that degree, and of course she would because I'd come to the realization that she was my anchor. However, the longer I lay in bed without her soft touch and petit form to reinforce the idea, the more explosive I became.

How could I be expected to get rest when my pregnant wife was out in the cold world, alone facing heaven knows what evils?

"Mrs. Salvatore, and I'll take that as affirmative. You called earlier about a problem with your garden?" She continued confidently, not the least bit deterred by my harsh tone. In fact, I got the distinct sensation that she was stubborn. Not easily swayed and a woman of means.

"Yes, I did." Odd to be having a conservation with, what seemed or what I hoped to be, a reasonable spirit on this line for the first time today. So surreal.

"I sympathetize with your situations as my husband and I are no strangers to pest problems ourselves." Empathy was there, though I prayed it wasn't a ploy to make a fool out of me.

"Your husband has made it very clear that he will not be offering his services. What do I make of this conversation?" It was bad enough that Mr. Salvatore refused to lend aid but I wouldn't tolerate indecent talks with his wife. I had enough on my plate.

"I have my ways Mr. Casimiro and I've convinced my husband to reconsider." The weirdest sensation struck me, and I was certain that beyond this line at the other end of this call, Mrs. Salvatore wore a smile. But why? Why help me after Mr. Salvatore made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me?

"So he'll take up my project?" Despite the alarm bells that rang off in my head, I pressed forward, near choking on my own words.

"Yes Mr. Casimiro. Now, listen carefully because these instructions are to be carried out exactly as they're given." There was no mistaking the sternness in her voice.

"Get in your car. Proceed in an eastly direction for three miles. Come alone. The less baggage, the better. There's an open lake, completely surrounded by Castanea sativa. Sit and wait in the pathway. Do not exit the car until you receive my confirmation to do so. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Committing everything to memory, I hopped out of bed dunning a hooded sweater. It was still dark out and ridiculously cold. I said a silent prayer that wherever my Ada was she had warmth. "Thank you Mrs. Salvatore."

"Don't thank me just yet. Till next time Mr. Casimiro, keep your garden in order. No exceptions." Her parting words were merely that. She had given me some advice. "Leave now."

That marked the end of our conversation as the line went dead. Profound silence filled the room as I navigated under the cover of darkness. It was strange but I knew that the gears were turning and I was that much closer to getting my wife out of the clutches of those sick pricks.

Once outside I happened upon Mario. He was perched at the top of the stairs, an elbows on his knees and his fingers raking through his golden hair, fully submerged in his own world. Unfortunately for him, anger was an old friend and it suddenly gripped me with a vengeance. In two two's, I gathered his collar in my fists, dealing him a few solid blows to the jaw before releasing him. It was unlucky that his shift had been the one where my wife had been snatched up because I'd rather it not be him. He reminded me too much of myself back when I was his age. When my world had just blown to smithereens. It was remarkable. He crumpled to the floor, grunting in pain but some how he rose to his feet as it to say I deserve more.

Immediately after I had few choiced words with my security detail, leaving instructions to be on high alert. Before long, I was buckling up behind my car, high-tailing out of there.

-:-

Nearly thirty minutes had gone by before I arrived at my destination. The fog hung low at the lake making it impossible to see what was beyond the Castanea sativa. I sat in the car, in the path as instructed, hidden from prying eyes. It struck me as odd that Mrs. Salvatore knew there of a lake so close to my home. That had to mean, she was very conscious of where I slept at night. Call me a pessimist, but that didn't surprise me it the least. After all, there was a reason I'd made that call to Mr. Salvatore.

The familiar ringing suddenly filled the car, and at once, I pressed the device to my ear.

"Exit your vehicle and take your keys with you."

Call ended. Orders were orders, so I did as instructed, scanning the premises for signs I was not alone. Suddenly, a stinging sensation seized me, the pain emanating my neck. My hands instinctively clutched the area, pulling away to find a tranquilizer dart in my possession. My eyelids instantly grew heavy. Not too long after, a black bag was pulled over my head. I remembered thinking, this was it ... the first step to finding Ada.

-:-

My eyes blinked open, as I struggled to find my bearings, still dizzy from being tranquilized earlier on. There was a muted discomfort at my neck where I'd been struck. At the moment, I was overly sensitive to the glare that pierced the glass doors and windows. Propping myself on my elbows, I elevated my upper body so that I could make better of my surroundings. The room was exquisite. Equipped with a plush loveseat. Sliding doors on either side of the two-seater, which lead to a veranda. A vanity inscribed in Italian. A walk-in closet to name only what I could perceive.

My eyes drifted further, to find an elder man seated in the single sofa. He just sat there, acknowledging me, with an amused smile. Suddenly, aware that he was in the room, I sprang of the bed regrettably as the urge to disgorge gripped me. Quickly, I sought the bathroom facilities in an attempt not to spill anything on the regal rug. When relief shook my body, I stared into the mirror heaving, noting the red dot on the side where that dart had pierce my skin.

He was familiar. A head of ravenous black hair, except the greying at either side of his temple. His eyes, the same piercing shade of blue, behind those round rimmed spectacles. A healthy glow that signified a woman's reach. He was taller, if that was possible, filling out his vintage khaki double-breasted four button business suit with old-fashion Italian Grimentin's. He struck me as the kind of man anyone would think twice before crossing, though under the benevolent disguise. It took me a while but I finally understood why he seemed familiar. His resemblance to someone I'd met briefly in my past was uncanny. There was only one man it could've been given recent events. Sig. Salvatore.

Alert, I entered the room, my eyes trained on him.

"You know, your father was wise not to get involved with this business." Mr. Salvatore began glancing at his wristwatch.

My father?

"You knew of my father?" For the second time in hours, my mind was riddled with questions.

"Keep your enemies close and your family closer." His smile was bittersweet. Evidently there was something he wasn't letting on. Something he didn't wish to share. "I love my brother, despite his desertion of the family business, though I understand his reasoning. Gardening can be a gory profession, then he had you and your baby sister to look after. There's also the issue of that mother of yours."

As much as the revelation intrigued me to no end, there was the business of my wife to attend to. "Respectfully, Mr. Salvatore, this was not the family reunion I was hoping for."

"Ah yes, your Ada was uprooted from your garden!" His features suddenly took on a more sober state so much so that it may be possible he had an alter-ego.

"A woman by the name of Corina, though I doubt she should be classed as anything but, told me to expect a call in sixteen hours. It's been-" It was was five in the afternoon. Heavens, if I hadn't been out for the last four and a half hours, it may have been possible to arrive at some course of action. Heavens this had better work out. "- Ten hours!"

"That leaves us only got six hours to intercept for the call."

-:-

My nerves were in a bundle as the minute hand on the antique pendulum wall clock moved closer to the hour of eleven. Mr. Salvatore had been hospitable prompting me to make myself at home. Problem was, I already had a home but those ruffians had dismantled it the second they took my wife. I'd lost my appetite the second I saw her defenseless on the screen of that mobile. Honestly, the waiting was killing me to the point I could barely sit still. Mr. Salvatore had given orders to his men to get a fix on the phone, that conniving woman had given me, so that when the call came through they could trace the signal to a location. Hopefully, where they were keeping my precious.

The hardest thing to do was wait, losing mind mind about what Ada was going through.

Ring.

Mr. Salvatore gestured for me to accept the call. The idea was to keep them on the phone for sixty seconds.

"Mr. Casimiro, I'm please to see you can meet your deadlines." Bitch. A feminine voice rang through the earpiece.

"Where is my wife?" It surprised me that my words took on a calm tone though I was about ready to pound someone into a pulp.

"Get me the wife," Desperately, I bit back a retort not wanting any more harm to come to her.

"Nicky?" A raspy cry flooded my mind. I near broke down at her simple yet sentimental response. Beyond all the tears, all the pain that consumed her reply, was my Ada.