When It Falls Apart (The D'Angelos, #1)(97)

He resisted at first and then grabbed her tight.

Chloe and Mari both walked in. Brooke saw Gio tell them the news.

Mari screamed.

Gio was on the phone.

“Have you checked our apartment?” Chloe asked.

“No.” The answer was met with all of them rushing down a flight of stairs and calling Franny’s name as they searched all the rooms.

“I’ll check the restaurant,” Chloe said, breaking away from them.

Gio continued to talk to the 911 operator as they searched.

“Franny!” Luca cried in desperation.

That’s when they heard it.

A tiny voice.

“Papa?”

They all turned to see Franny standing just outside, in the hall.

Luca rushed to his baby and was on his knees, gathering her in his arms. He spoke to her in Italian.

Brooke felt tears rolling down her face.

When Luca finally leaned back, he pushed Franny’s hair out of her eyes. “What happened?”

“I got scared. I know you said not to walk by myself but I . . . I’m sorry, Papa.”

“It’s okay.”

“I heard a noise and hid. I was going to call, but the noise was closer, so I ran.”

“You didn’t come to your room?” Brooke asked.

She shook her head. “I hid upstairs.”

“Why?”

“I thought Mama Antonia was going to come after me and take me away.”

“What do you mean?” Mari asked.

Chloe walked back in the room, her hand over her heart when she saw her niece.

Franny started crying again. “She said she was going to take me to Italy and I couldn’t say no. She got mad at Rosa. They were yelling and I don’t want to go to Italy, Papa. I want to stay here with you and Brooke, Nonna and Gio and Chloe.”

Brooke clenched her fists. How fast could a woman fuck up her kid?

Gio stood with the phone in his hand. “Do we want the police?”

She looked at him and decided for all of them. “Yes. Have them meet us at Rosa’s. We need some documentation of unfit parenting so this never happens again.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE


Two weeks later Brooke, Luca, and Franny stood outside San Diego International, not out of some desire to see a loved one off . . . but to make damn sure Antonia got on the plane.

And for Franny.

The night that took years off everyone’s lives hadn’t ended until nearly dawn.

A police report was taken, and Antonia knew at that point she wouldn’t be left alone with her daughter without a court order.

With the welcome mat at Rosa’s pulled up and left with little options . . . Antonia was going home to her parents.

Alone.

Well . . . almost.

The story was she’d been in a relationship with a wealthy man above Napa, he’d set her up in an apartment, and from the sound of it, at least to Brooke’s ears, the man was either married, or had no intention of making Antonia anything more in his life. And then she became pregnant.

He kicked her out almost immediately. Antonia had sobbed when she explained what had happened.

“Why not stick around and make him own up to his responsibilities?” Brooke had asked.

Antonia’s reply was that he’d said he would keep her in court and make her life hell. Something about the explanation didn’t ring true to Brooke.

Luca had suggested, privately, that perhaps the baby wasn’t his and the man knew it. And if that was the case, the child likely belonged to someone who didn’t have the bank account to pursue.

Not that Antonia owned up to any of that.

And none of it mattered. She had returned to San Diego in hopes of winning Luca back and being a mother to Franny.

When she realized that wasn’t going to happen, she felt desperate, and that desperation had made her do horrible things. Unforgiveable things. And now she was leaving.

“I know you won’t believe me, but I am sorry,” she said to Luca.

Luca didn’t accept her apology, or comment.

“Have a safe flight. And let Franny know you’re okay when you get there,” Brooke encouraged her.

Antonia knelt to Franny’s level. “I’m leaving because it is better for you that I go. But I will write you letters . . .”

“Don’t make promises you won’t keep,” Brooke said.

Antonia looked up at her, then back to Franny.

“I will write letters. And we can text and call. And maybe if you visit your nonna’s papa, you can visit me as well.”

Franny nodded.

Antonia opened her arms. “Can I have a hug?”

Franny moved into her mother’s arms, hugged her hard, and sniffled back the tears.

Antonia told Franny she loved her in Italian, and Franny did the same in return.

Standing tall, Antonia put her wide-rimmed sunglasses over her eyes and told them goodbye.

They watched her until she mixed into the crowd at the airport, dragging a single suitcase behind her.

Franny reached up and grasped Brooke’s and Luca’s hands in hers.

“You okay, sweetie?”

She sighed. “I want gelato.”

“Yes, me too,” Brooke said with too much enthusiasm.