Even a mistake may turn out to be the one thing necessary to a worthwhile achievement.

-Henry Ford

Enzo Fiorenza's POV

Later that afternoon after Willow unexpectedly return to North Carolina without resolving the issue between us.

She's once again guarding her heart against me and choose to return home and leave everything behind here.

Including me.

My heartache just at the mere thought of her traveling right now further and further away from me. I went back to the library after my heated argument with Cesare moments before Willow announced her plan to leave the same day. I didn't have the chance to say something because of the unexpected shock I felt at the thought of her going back to her hometown all of a sudden.

I went inside the library to say goodbye despite our conversation a while ago. For the first time in my life, I would say goodbye to my family before leaving unlike before I would slip out at the dead of the night to return to the army.

I was surprised when I saw another commotion inside the library. The same people who witness my heated argument with Cesare were still here.

"What's going on?" I asked when I saw Leila probably for the first time looking frantically worried. Dropping my backpack on the floor searching for an answer.

Leila spared me a glance before she continue to pace the room. "You're still going to leave?"

"What's going on?" I repeated my question earlier ignoring her question. Right now something is going on here that I don't think I like.

"There's a slight mishap at the airport a while ago."

My heart practically stopped at her words. I crossed the distance between us to demand an answer from her. "What do you mean slight mishap? Is Willow involve in this mishap?"

She gave me a guarded look before looking briefly at her father who remain silent at his throne. She slid back her gaze on me. "Well, you see..." She started looking away. "...Patri's plane supposed to bring Willow back to North Carolina but—"

"But what...?" I demanded hurriedly. Is there something bad that happens to her? Plane crash? Engine error? I don't think I can bear it if there's...

Before I have the chance to throttle my cousin as I have been dying to do since she started manipulating me and Willow for her satisfaction. A familiar man barge in the library in his signature cynical manner.

"I have good news and bad, little one." Marco Orsini strode inside the library like he was freaking living here with the Fiorenzas with his familiarity as if he was a member of this family. 

"What are you doing here?" Uncle asked disapprovingly to the man who just barge in. "I don't remember inviting you here."

He smiled pleasantly at Cesare as if my uncle was so excited to see him. "Hello, uncle. Long-time no see."

"You're not my nephew."

Before he has the chance to retort Leila interrupted them. "Enough. I ask for his help that's why he is here. Thank you for coming with such short notice."

"No problem." He smiled sardonically and he happened to slide his gaze on me. "How are you, amico? You have a healthy glow in your skin. I guess your vacation is a successful one."

Nikos and Leandro chortle out loud at the corner. I glared at them murderously as well as this good friend of theirs.

"What did you find out?" Leila asked demanding Marco's attention.

The man focused his attention on Leila with a slight smile. "What do you want to know first the good news or the bad news?"

"Good news first."

"Good news is..." The Italian man started. "...Willow Kinsella, indeed boarded a private plane."

"And the bad news?" Leila asked warily as my heart beating so loudly in my chest. I won't be surprised if they could hear it.

Marco Orsini took a deep breath. "The bad news is, it wasn't the Fiorenza plane."

"What?!" I couldn't believe my ears. What kind of stupidity is that? "How did this happen?"

"Our private plane was delayed at the tarmac because someone else who is also a very important man is using the runway," Laila explained while sitting beside her husband on the sofa. "You see after this plane is supposed to take off that's the time Patri's plane can go the tarmac."

"Are you saying...?" I couldn't finish my sentence. I couldn't believe this was happening.

"Yes," Laila supplied for me with sad eyes. "Willow board that plane."

I stared at them in disbelief as my heart practically stop beating. How could they let this happened? But the more important where the hell is Willow right now.

"Do you know who owns that plane, Marco?" Nikos asked his friend.

He smiled at him with his gleam with delight. "Of course, I know. No information elude me, amico."

"Who is it?" I demanded at him hotly. "Who owns this damn plane?"

He eyed me for a moment before glancing at his wristwatch. "Oh, just look at the time. I need to go back to Rome. You see, I am a very busy man overseeing the vineyard, looking after my growing family and of course, my other businesses are waiting for me. I need to go."

"This is not a game, damn you!" I spat at him when he was about to leave the library. "Tell me who is this bastard that kidnapped my Willow."

I couldn't miss the glint that showed in his eyes as well as the smirk in Leila's mouth that she's trying to control. Marco Orsini sighed deeply. "I would love to tell you. But what do I get in return for this favor? I didn't leave everything in Rome to be here and endure one hour and thirty minutes flight to be here without some reward for myself."

"I will do anything you would like me to do, damn you." As soon as I blurted those words I regret it. For this man's cynical eyes glinted with deviltry.

"Anything?" He repeated with a knowing smile.

"Y-Yes..." I swallowed hard, unsure what to do next.

"You know what I truly want, amico. Remember?"

I frowned at him for a moment thinking what he wants from...holy hell. "Don't tell me..."

"Yes, amico." The bastard started with a glint in his dark eyes. "That's what I want."

"Fine," I answered in a clipped tone. "I will join your club. Just tell me who is this bastard who kidnapped Willow?"

I heard Nikos and Leandro groaned in disbelief as the man in front of me threw them a goading look. Then he looked at me again with a smile on his face. "Very well, his name is Santino Marchesi."

"Who the fuck is that?"

They all look in my direction as if they couldn't believe their eyes. Marco gaped at me. "You don't know him?"

"No," I answered. "Who is he?"

Marco shook his head in disbelief. "Seriously, you don't know Santino Marchesi or Santi as he wished to be called. He is a Sicilian don."

"A what?" I couldn't believe my ears. Of all the people who should be boarding that damn plane why it does needs to be that man. This was unbelievable.

"A Sicilian mafia." He supplied for me with a mocking smile. "Or as I wish to call him simply as a gangster."

"Don't tell me..."

He nodded with a devious smile on his face. "Yes, he is a good friend of mine. And you should know Santi has a penchant thing for blondes."

I saw red hazed in my eyes with Marco's words. I stood toe-to-toe with this man until we're eyes level. "If that friend of yours touch even the single strand of Willow's hair," I stated with menacing. "I will make sure that I will not leave traces of his carcass. And I will include you in his dead body."

Marco didn't even flinch in fact there was an amused gleam in his eyes. He gestured to the men sitting casually on the sofa with his head. "I'm sure my friends over there will not let you do that. They will save my ass from you."

"No. We're not." Nikos and Leandro said in unison.

Marco scowled in their direction. "Now see here, you traitorous bastards..."

"Where is he?" I asked him with the threadbare patience that was left on me. "Where the hell this man took Willow."

"Relax, amico." The Italian man reminded me. "Santi didn't abduct your lady friend. That little southern girl willingly went inside his plane without knowing that it's the wrong one. Besides, I know where he's traveling at the moment. He's going to Los Angeles to fetch his ward. You see, his mentor and good friend not so long ago died and this man's daughter is left in his care." He smiled at the thought. "He, twenty-seven years old will be a guardian of twenty-one years old college student."

"Is your plane still at the tarmac as of now?" I asked Cesare a direct question. "I need to use it. I will go to Los Angeles now."

"I'm coming with you." Marco inserted smoothly. "You don't know where this man resides in Los Angeles, amico, but I do." He glanced briefly to the men unconcernedly sitting on the sofa. "Your cousins' respective husbands will come with us too."

"What?! No way!" Both of them stated in disagreement as they threw an annoying look in his direction.

My cousins looked at them reproachfully. After a moment both of them stand from their seat with a resigned look. "All right, fine," Nikos said with a troubled expression. "We'll come with you."

"Do we need to pack?" Leandro asked conversationally.

Nikos shook his head. "I'm sure this is a round-trip flight."

"Now we should get going," Marco announced too cheerfully for my liking as if he was enjoying this whole thing more than he should have. "But I want to use my plane going to America. It's just I am uncomfortable riding a plane not knowing the pilot personally." He looked at Cesare with an apologetic look. "No offense, Uncle Fiorenza."

"Offense taken." The man cold green eyes met his unflinching one.

We are about to march out of the library when Rafe enters the room. He stopped dead in the doorway seeing us. "Did I interrupt anything? Maybe I should—"

"Rafe!" Marco greeted chirpily. He swung his arms around Rafe's shoulder. "How did you know that I was here? Come, where's going somewhere?"

"Wait a moment!" Rafe protested as Marco drag him out of the library. "I came here because I have a meeting with my godfather. Let me go."

"No. you are coming with me." The Italian man declared, still holding Rafe like a hostage. "I just hope our pitiful extra of a friend is coming with us but there's no time to collect him in Rome. Maybe we should just give him a call later."

Willow, wait for me. That was my last thought before going to the airport.