Chapter 5 - Izan

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Make sure to read Chapter 4 first.


Izan

My phone rang the moment Camila and I entered our hotel room. After a long day at the ball, I sighed in relief when I saw who was calling. "Hola, papa," I answered and put it on speaker for my sister to greet him too. However, his tone was rigid. "Everything's alright?" 

I had a bad feeling. He knew not to call when abroad unless it was an emergency.

He wasn't the type to beat around the bush. He said, "Hijo, Alvaro's been kidnapped." 

The second these words left our dad's lips, Camila and I jumped from our seats and packed our suitcases. 

We were in Sicily attending the annual Mafia Ball. Shit went down there, so we got back to the hotel to rest after an eventful nerve-wracking night—no rest for us, apparently. [A/N: Read Dinner with the Mafia if you want to know what happened there.]

"On our way. Send me the details in a text," I hung up the phone, running through all the possibilities in my head. Whoever took him would pay a hefty price with their lives.

I raked my fingers through my hair in frustration, looked at Camila, and saw her crying as she shoved her clothes angrily into the suitcase. I knew the wheels were turning in her head, and I could not let her eat herself up for it.

"Cálmate, hermana."

[Calm down, sister.]

"But Izan... what if he's de-" I cut her sentence short by grabbing her shoulders so she could look me in the eyes.

"He's not." They took him for a reason, and money was the first on the list, so they couldn't kill him before they got what they wanted. "Let's go," I said calmly, ushering her toward the door, and texted our pilot to prepare the jet. 

It was a half an hour drive to the airport and about eight hours to New York. It was more than enough time to call my contacts and people who might be able to help.

Camila sniffed as she grabbed her phone and backpack, and I dragged the suitcases as we checked out. "He's just four years old! Who would kidnap him? My baby Alvaro. I need to call Mama Vivian," she chattered, and I just listened, knowing she needed that. I was not a man of many words, but I knew when to listen.

Being the Spanish Mafia Don in the US created enemies who would love to see us crumble, but who would stoop so low and abduce a child?

Me aseguraré de que no vuelvan a ver la luz del día.

[I will make sure they never see the light of day again.]

The driver opened the doors for us, and I instructed him to drive as fast as possible. He wanted to object at first, talking about the law and whatnot, so I shoved the gun to his temple, and he did as I said. 

"Mama Vivian," I heard Camila say through the phone, and after a minute of listening to the other side, she broke down, crying on my shoulder. I could hear Mama Vivian's broken voice, and I grew angrier by the second.

As they calmed each other down, I got a text from Papa. I almost smashed the phone in my hand when I read the message, but I did not let Camila read it.

The kidnappers had already called and demanded 100 million dollars. The money was not an issue here. I had it. But we needed to know for sure if they would give us back Alvaro if we did give them the money. 

In most cases like these, the kidnappers usually kill the hostage after they get what they want, and I could not let that happen.

Half-brother or not, Alvaro has my heart, and I will not rest until he's back with us.


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