◆ Under Duress ◆

◇ KEL ◇

"What do you want me to do?"

"Talk to him.  Ask him what he wants."

I narrowed my eyes at the phone near my face.  It was mine, the new one Miles gave me weeks ago.  The second "secure" phone he gave me.  It was a tracker, basically.  He didn't need to tell me so.

Mr. Falco took the phone from me earlier while his men tortured Niccolo with sucker punches and some kicks to his legs.  So far, Nicco remained conscious beside me, weak but looking stable enough.

The smell of his sweat had mixed with the scent of blood that trickled from his nose down to this chest.  I helped him stop the bleeding earlier while Mr. Falco watched and kept himself busy in the corner with his own phone.   Hopefully Nicco wouldn't pass out from severe dehydration or from his injuries.

"Talk to him?" I asked when I took the phone from Mr. Falco.  I tried not to frown, just not in the mood to play games.  My arms, legs and back hurt.  I should be in bed now but the events of tonight kept escalating, just robbing me of much-needed sleep.

Annoying.  But it wasn't like I could complain.  I just didn't know what else Stefano wanted me to do just so I could get out of here.  We'd been stuck in the basement for about an hour now, and Niccolo needed proper medical attention.

I also had to make sure that Miles and Mrs. Falco were both okay.  What caused the ruckus upstairs?  Mr. Falco mentioned "Leandro" but didn't really say anything else to Miles before Miles scrammed out of this basement, leaving me here with his bloody ex and his irate father.

"You want me to talk to Miles?"

Mr. Falco walked away to sit back on the old desk in the corner.  Then he glanced at Niccolo, who sat on the floor with his handcuffed wrists behind him, no longer laboring for air.  "No."

"Then who?"  I muttered.

"Someone you must know by now."

"Call the number, Kel." Breathing through his swollen and bloodstained mouth, Niccolo nodded at me weakly and let out a grunt, obviously still in pain.

"What number?"

"The last call on the list."

Missed call? Why?  I looked through the call logs.  A part of my chest coiled as I anticipated the worst.

A different-looking number appeared on my screen, right on the top of the calls list, just as Niccolo said.  It wasn't a local number.  It didn't look familiar at all.

"I don't know who this is," I murmured. I glanced up to find the boss watching my every reaction. Possibly my every movement, too.

The basement remained dim but the coldness in his gaze rivaled no other.  "I'm sure you've met him before." Stefano put on a crooked grin, his legs crossed as he watched me from afar.

Who did he want me to call and talk to at this hour?

"Call the number. Speaker mode, please." Stefano's tone sounded encouraging now, almost too calm, opposite of his true nature—the ruthless side of him I just witnessed barely minutes ago.  Every time he talked, his deep voice fairly echoed throughout the basement.  As if his mere presence wasn't bone-chilling enough.

Mr. Falco didn't point his gun at me but I didn't have to be told twice.  I knew my ground.  He was the alpha.  The mafia boss.  Everyone here knew better than to oppose.

So I dialed the number.  I hesitated switching to speaker mode as I waited for the ringing to be replaced by a man's voice.  The muffled rings echoed a bit, cutting through the silent tension in the poorly lit room.

"Ask him how he's doing and what he wants." Stefano gave me another fake smile, as though he was telling me everything would be fine if I just cooperated.

The ringing stopped.  Someone just picked up.  A noiseless few seconds later, a familiar male voice spoke.  "Mykaela?"

At the sound of the mystery man's voice, Stefano perked up and listened in.  He gave me a quick, calm nod, telling me to answer whoever it was on the other line.

How did mystery guy know it was my number?  I hadn't been handing out my new number to strangers—Miles told me to keep it private.  Very private.  "Yes. Who's this please?"

"Hello, dear. It's Ilya."

The monotonous short reply near froze me to my core.  It was an odd kind of shock.  It perplexed the heck out of me, but a dull ache in my gut told me this was not some random catch-up Stefano wanted me to do over the phone.  Minding my sweaty hands, I glanced to Niccolo.  "Uh...hi, Sir. How have you been?"

"Apologies if this took you by surprise."

"No. No problem," I replied without stuttering, thankfully.  The tightening in my chest wouldn't go away.  I just didn't expect I would be talking to the man tonight.  "How did you get this number, Sir?"

"From a friend. Is this a bad time?" Ilya asked monotonously.  His accent sounded more English than I remembered.  He was a Serbian-Russian business tycoon who owned some real estate and invested in several companies.  Typical head honcho from a clan of businessmen, as far as I knew.

Niccolo didn't tell me more details;  he said it was for my own safety, and I took his word for it.  Nicco said Ilya knew I already found out that he was my real father.  Did Ilya try to get in touch with me to finally confess to the truth?

What now?  I looked up from the phone to regard Mr. Falco.

He sat still on the desk in the corner of the room.  He simply grinned at me, as though telling me to keep talking with Ilya.  Or Ilija.  Whatever his real name was.

For what particular reason—I had absolutely no clue.  "How have you been, Sir?"  I asked the person on the other line, actually curious.  Last time we'd seen each other in person,  I noted he had a few symptoms of early onset cirrhosis.  I never asked to confirm it, though.

"A little unwell, but coping. Thanks for asking." Ilya's voice sounded a bit hoarse. "Are you still studying in New York, dear?"

"Uh..."  I looked to the boss again.

Stefano only nodded his head and flicked his hand as if to tell me to keep chatting on the phone.  His gaze focused on something in his hand, his gray head of hair concealing his bearded face.

"Yes. It's gonna be our graduation soon."

"Great to hear." Ilya coughed loudly on the other end. "Congratulations."

"Thank you."  I didn't mean I would be graduating this year as well, but, I didn't really want to give more details.  Safety reasons.  If Miles was still here with me, he wouldn't let me have another word with Ilya.

"I'll be in New York for a business trip next month. Do you have time to spare then?"

Next month?  Ilya would be in New York.  Wow.  Okay.  He wanted to meet up with me again.  The loud thumps my heart made inside my chest just hastened my intakes of breath.   Did he want to see my mom?  I sincerely hoped not.

Niccolo stayed sitting beside me, listening to the phone conversation.  He nodded at me to tell me to continue.

"Uh...sure, Sir. I'll try to find time next week. Would you be traveling alone?"

"Not sure. I'll call you then, dear."

Whoa.  Another meetup.  Just like that.  He definitely wanted to see me in person again.  I looked to Stefano, who now gave me a thumbs-up and another forced smile.  "Sure, Sir,"  I replied to the man on the other end.  "No problem."

"Take care, Mykaela."

"Likewise." Puzzled and nervous,  I tapped the red icon to end the call.

"Not bad at all, Mykaela."  The big bad boss of the Falco clan leisurely walked towards me and Niccolo.  His leather boots made dull noises against the cement, and now an untrustworthy smile drew lines on his bearded face.

"Why do I have to meet up with him?"

"I'll tell you everything you want to know real soon. Just do what I need you to do." Mr. Falco stepped closer to me and stroked my hair. Then he tucked his gun under his belt and murmured something to Niccolo.

I tried to translate it mentally but didn't catch the rest of what he said.

"Maxim doesn't need to know about this."  The boss held my shoulder now.  "We clear on that, Mykaela?"

"Sì. Certo."  As if I had a choice.  It seemed he's simply testing my patience and obedience.

[Yes. Of course.]

"Alright. By the way, could you check on Lorenzio later? He seems to be feeling unwell." Stefano checked his phone, and then called for his bodyguards while Niccolo stayed on the floor.

The men would accompany the boss out of this basement.  They would probably leave me alone down here to deal with Niccolo.

"Leandro and I need to sort out some issues at the port." Stefano gave me one last smile and headed for the stairs.  He had no problem ignoring Niccolo's seething glare.  "See you later."

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