His Kitten

DANIEL

A few weeks ago, I got a call from Michael. It had been almost five years since we last spoke. He only ever reached out when he was in a bind.

I didn’t mind, though. It meant I got to see my little kitten. She was a ray of sunshine, even on the gloomiest days. But that changed five years ago.

She was growing into a stunning young woman. I mentioned this to Michael. He didn’t take it well; he told me to stay away from his daughter.

I understood his concern. If I were her father, I wouldn’t want her around someone like me either.

But I missed her.

Her smile could brighten any room. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

That’s why Michael’s call surprised me. He asked me to look after her if anything happened.

He didn’t specify what that “anything” might be, but he was entrusting me with his little girl, my kitten. That was all that mattered.

I’m not a bad guy, really. I just prefer my women young. Not illegally young, but around the same age as my kitten is now.

I’d almost forgotten about Michael’s call until one of my guys came into my office.

I was reviewing a contract. We were expanding, and my European contact had offered me a golden opportunity.

Not that I needed the money. All my businesses were thriving, but I never turn down a good opportunity.

“You should turn on the news, Boss,” Alex suggested, walking into my office.

I frowned, annoyed at the interruption. I grabbed the TV remote, switched to the news channel, and turned up the volume.

Breaking news—

Michael Ryan has been arrested by the FBI. Ryan, a small-time criminal, is suspected to have ties to the Marchesi crime family. Evidence has been seized from his home.

The FBI is currently searching for Ryan’s daughter, Rosie, who fled the family home after her father’s arrest. They believe she may be in danger.

There are rumors that the FBI will offer Mr. Ryan a deal in exchange for information on Vincent Marchesi, who is currently under investigation.

I stared at the screen. A picture of my little kitten was displayed on the news channel.

I shook my head. “Michael, you fucking idiot. We need to find her fast,” I ordered.

Alex nodded. “I’ll send one of the guys to the local FBI office. He can pose as Ryan’s lawyer. If we can get her cell number, we can track her.”

I nodded as Alex left the office.

I looked back at the screen, still showing her photo, and sighed.

“Kitten, why didn’t you call me, like your daddy told you.”

***

A couple of hours later, Alex returned to the office. I hadn’t been able to focus on the contract I was supposed to be reviewing.

All I could think about was my kitten and how she had managed to evade the FBI. My clever little kitten.

Alex handed me a piece of paper. “This is her cell number. Apparently, she arrived at the house just as they were taking Ryan away. One of the feds chased her”—Alex chuckled—“but she gave him the slip.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let’s hope we can do better.”

I looked at the number, then opened an app on my laptop and connected my phone to it.

One of my businesses had pioneered tracking technology, specifically phone tracking, using a phone’s GPS.

I just hoped she hadn’t been smart enough to turn it off. My little kitten was bright enough to do that, but hopefully, in her panic, she had forgotten.

I dialed the number on the paper and waited as the phone rang on the other end.

I glanced at the clock; it was late—just past midnight.

“Hello?” a female voice mumbled on the other end.

“Kitten? Is that you?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she mumbled again.

I looked at the computer; it was still calculating coordinates.

“Did I wake you, kitten? Where are you?” I asked. She didn’t need to know I was tracking her, in case she decided to run again.

“I’m fine, Uncle Daniel, really. I’m just trying to process what happened.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Kitten,” I started firmly. “I didn’t ask how you were—I asked where you are. Let me come and get you,” I said, softening my voice a bit.

I looked at the computer screen as the tracking program finished.

“I’m OK, Uncle Daniel, really. I’ll call you in the morning.”

I smiled, realizing everything was falling into place.

“OK, kitten, you promise you’ll call me?” I pressed.

“Yes, Uncle Daniel, I promise.”

The call ended. She had hung up; I hadn’t. It didn’t matter, though. I had the coordinates of the phone. If she ran, the phone location would still show unless she ditched the phone, which I doubted she would.

“Well…” Alex started. “What now?”

I looked at my watch, then at the location. She was several hours away.

“Let’s go. By the time we get there, it’ll be morning anyway.”

ROSIE

I sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, wondering what to do next.

I shivered, the cold and damp seeping into my bones. Maybe I should have told him where I was. If I had, I could be warm right now. But I was suspicious.

Maybe it’s just my nature. Or maybe it was living with my dad, who was always wary of everyone. I just wondered why he had vanished from our lives five years ago.

And now he was suddenly back.

Had my dad messed up, or was it Uncle Daniel’s doing? It was clear that my dad was in some kind of trouble, and he’d turned to his old buddy. Maybe that was his only choice.

Perhaps my dad knew he was on the brink of getting arrested. I hated being kept in the dark. Why couldn’t anyone just tell me what was happening?

I sat there in the darkness, too chilled to drift back to sleep. Then I heard it. A sound from downstairs.

Shit. Why had I picked a room upstairs? There was only one escape route, and that was the staircase. I rushed to the window, which overlooked the front of the house. I couldn’t leap out the window, not without injuring myself.

Then I spotted it.

A dark van. A pair of burly men in dark suits were standing next to it. They didn’t look like cops. Were they Uncle Daniel’s men?

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. I pulled out my phone, noticing the GPS icon blinking at the top. Had Uncle Daniel been tracking me? Had he known my location all this time? Why would he send men I didn’t recognize?

I heard the sound of someone climbing the stairs. It sounded like more than one person, judging by the footsteps.

My heart began to pound wildly in my chest. I felt like a trapped animal. Then I saw the light seeping under the door. I knew it wasn’t a light from the house. All the utilities were off. It had to be someone with a flashlight.

The door creaked open slowly, and I caught a brief glimpse of two men before the flashlight beam hit me in the face.

I raised my arm to shield my eyes from the blinding light.

“U-Uncle Daniel?” I stammered.

“Not quite, piccolo,” the man holding the flashlight responded.

His accent was thick and foreign.

Fear washed over me. Maybe they were the property owners.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “I’ll just leave.”

I began to move toward the door, but before I could get far, I felt arms encircle me, pinning my arms to my sides.

I tried to fight, but the man was too strong.

The man with the flashlight chuckled. “I don’t think so, piccolo.”

“È questa la figlia del bastardo?” The one holding me asked. [Is this the bastard’s daughter?]

Shit, these people weren’t even speaking my language. Did he just call me a bastard?

The man with the flashlight roughly grabbed my hair and jerked my head back. Pain like a thousand needles shot through my scalp. I cried out, only for the man to laugh. “Sì, è lei. Riportiamola dal capo.” [Yes, it’s her. Let’s bring her back to the boss.]

He pulled something out of his pocket, and I realized it was a syringe.

“Please... no...,” I pleaded.

Then I felt a sharp jab in the side of my neck.

“Dormi bene, piccolo.” He smirked. [~Sleep well, little one.~]

My head started to spin, and I began to feel weak. Surely these men hadn’t been sent by Uncle Daniel. Then my vision started to blur as darkness swallowed me.