Chapter 11: Taken

The fire alarm went off at 9:40 that night, while I was brushing Angelo's hair.

We were in the corner suite at the hotel on Salina Street, the same one I had spent my wedding night in.

I had booked it on purpose.

"Mama, it's loud," Angelo said, covering his ears.

The door opened, and two of Dominic's men were in the room before I got to my feet.

"Signora, it's real, there's smoke on six," the taller one said.

"We take the stairs, now."

I picked Angelo up and wrapped his dinosaur blanket around him.

The stairwell was crowded with guests in bathrobes, coughing and complaining, and my guards pushed ahead of us step by step.

On the third floor landing, someone shoved me from behind.

I stumbled, and Angelo's arm slid out of mine.

A woman in a gray housekeeping uniform caught him neatly under the arms.

"I've got him, ma'am," she said, and turned, and walked straight down the stairs with my son.

It took me one full second to understand.

"Angelo!" I screamed.

The taller guard spun, and a man I had never seen swung a bottle against the side of his head.

He went down hard, and the second guard dove after the woman and was caught by two more men in hotel jackets.

I tore through them with my nails.

I got my fingers on the hem of the woman's skirt and pulled, and she kicked me in the ribs.

By the time I got to the lobby, the loading dock doors were swinging.

A white van was already turning out of the alley.

The last thing I saw was a small face over the woman's shoulder, mouth open, one hand stretched toward me.

"Mama!"

I ran after the van for half a block in my hotel socks.

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