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Touring was exhausting. They spent a full day at every port they stopped at on the west coast and the neighbouring islands. Claudia bought him clothes, jewellery, art, gadgets, and gimmicks. All ridiculously priced.
But most of all, they bought food. They sampled food every five steps. Ice cream, cakes, pastries, spaghetti, and coffee. Francesco was so stuffed that whenever they returned to the yacht, he could barely eat.
As they toured, a small group of photographers followed. Luciano had said that both photographers and reporters would follow him and that he should ignore them whenever he spotted them. But they were always scurrying around him with flashes going off and whispers to look this way. Even the pedestrians stopped to gawk and wonder who they were. A few even asked his grandmother for autographs or selfies. People had no idea who they were but would get excited.
The worst was their stop in Rome. A crowd followed them wherever they went. It also didn't help that that one female reporter from his announcement was there.
"Me. Baggio, how do you like Rome?" She asked loudly as Carletto held her back from getting closer.
The boy turned to look at the woman, surprised. She was just a few steps away, and the crowd following them wasn't that loud. Yet she had shouted her question at him.
Before Francesco could say anything, Claudia grabbed his hand and started jogging towards their van. She pushed him in and ordered the driver to quickly take them back to the port. Claudia frantically looked around as they sped through the streets. She pulled out her phone, fumbling with the lock and the app, to make a call.
"Nonna?"
But Claudia ignored her grandson. She maintained watchful eyes on the vehicles around them while also nervously checking her phone as she waited for the other person to pick up.
Whoever Claudia was calling didn't pick up, and her anxious movements calmed down only when they were walking back to the yacht.
"Nonna, what's wrong?"
"Luciano and Paolo want whoever has your mother to take you too. I won't let them do this again. You've been through enough."
Claudia spent the rest of the morning and the early part of the afternoon unsuccessfully trying to contact Luciano and Assistant Morbidelli. She forbade Francesco from leaving the yacht, even with security.
The boy sat idly in his cabin, with Stella watching him. He started at his maid, who only started back at him with a welcoming smile.
"Is something wrong, sir?"
But the boy remained quiet. As the silence wore on, Stella maintained her smile. Finally breaking from his thoughts, he asked his maid, "Who do you work for?"
The question didn't seem to catch the woman off guard, though she did hesitate slightly. "I work for you, sir."
"No, you don't." Francesco pointed downward and said, "You know why I'm here. Who do you work for?"
Stella gave him a knowing smirk. "I work for the heads of the Baggio family."
"There's only one person who is the head of the family."
"And he has named his heir."
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Adam and Stella snuck off the yacht in the late evening. Stella had known where the security cameras were, and together they spent the afternoon watching the guards make their rounds. The two escaped from the yacht and quickly made their way through the streets of Rome.
It didn't take long for his suspected pursuers to catch them. The duo were walking down a street littered with cafes, shops, vendors, and tourists when a stocky man blocked their path. What seemed like an honest mistake at first turned sour when two other men grabbed hold of them. The men holding them pressed blades against their backs as they nudged them forward.
Francesco and Stella did not fight their apprehenders and complied with their instructions. The men escorted them to a nearby car, where they were blindfolded and moved to the trunk before taking off. They drove for what felt like an hour before the vehicle finally came to a stop.
In the quiet dark, with a blindfold over his eyes and his hands and mouth tied, Francesco had no real sense of time. A few minutes after their abductors left, Stella started fumbling around; a moment later, she removed the bindings on his mouth.
"How are you, sir?" she whispered.
"Fine. Can you guess where we are?"
No sooner had he asked that the whine and whir of engines were heard. The men returned shortly after, pulling the two from the trunk and handing them over to another group of men. This second group was not Italian like their abductors. The men showed they were all carrying guns as they gave the duo firm warnings against fighting back or attempting to run away before removing their bindings. The moment she was free, Stella moved to Francesco and held him protectively as she took a good look at the men's faces.
While their initial abductors were rough and seemed ordinary, these men looked like they were part of a security detail. The leader of the team held a piece of paper up in front of Francesco, his eyes glancing between the two, then nodded and signalled for them to move out.
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