To Love Again by Danielle Steel Read Free Book Online

her boudoir. Amadeo! They had Amadeo! Oh, God, they were mad!
    She didn't even hear the doorbell ring, or the maid run to answer it, or Bernardo's rapid footsteps as he ran toward her sobs.
    What is it? He looked at her in horror from the doorway as she stood convulsed by what she had just heard. Isabella, tell me, what? Was he hurt? Was he dead?
    For a moment she couldn't speak and then, uncomprehending, she stared at him as tears poured down her face. Her voice was a pathetic croak when she spoke to Bernardo at last. He's been kidnapped.
    Oh, my God.

Chapter THREE

    An hour later Isabella was still sitting in her boudoir, ashen and shaking, clutching Bernardo's hand when they got the second call.
    By the way, we forgot to tell you, signora. Don't call the cops. If you do, we'll know. And we'll kill him. And if you don't come up with the money, we'll kill him too.
    But you can't. There's no way
    Never mind that. Just stay away from the cops. They'll freeze your money as soon as the banks open, and then neither he nor you will be worth a damn. They had hung up again, but this time Bernardo had listened too.
    She was crying again after the call.
    Isabella, we should have called the police an hour ago.
    I told you not to, dammit. The man is right. The police will watch us all weekend and then on Monday they'll freeze everything we've got so we can't pay the ransom.
    You can't anyway. It would take a year to free up that kind of money. And the only one who could do it anyway is Amadeo. You know that.
    I don't give a damn. We'll get it. We have to.
    We can't. We have to call the police. There's no other way. If they do want that kind of money, you don't have it to give them, Isabella. You can't risk making them angry. You have to find them first. Bernardo looked almost as pale as Isabella as he ran a desperate hand through his hair.
    But what if they find out? The man said
    They won't. We have to trust someone. For God's sake, we can't trust them.
    But maybe they'll give us time to raise the money. People will help us. We could make some calls to the States.
    Screw the States. We can't do that. You can't give them time. What about Amadeo while you try to come up with the money? What are they doing to him?
    Oh, God, Bernardo! I can't think' . Her voice disappeared into a pale, childlike whine as Bernardo took her into his own trembling arms.
    Please, let me call. It was only a whisper. And her answer was only a nod. But the police were there in fifteen minutes. At the back door, wearing old clothes, looking like friends of the servants, with old frayed peasants' hats in their hands. At least they had made the effort to conceal who they were, Isabella thought, as Bernardo ushered them inside. Maybe Bernardo was right after all.
    Signora di San Gregorio? The policeman recognized her immediately. Isabella was looking frozen and regal as she sat glued to her chair still in the emeralds and the green satin gown.
    Yes. It was barely audible. Tears once again drowned her dark eyes, and Bernardo took a tight grip on her hand.
    We are sorry. We know you are in much pain. But we must know everything. How, when, who last saw him, have there been earlier threats, is there anyone in your business or your household whom you have reason to suspect? No one must be spared. No kindness, no courtesy, no loyalty to old friends. Your husband's life is at stake. You must help us. They looked suspiciously at Bernardo, who met their gaze evenly. It was Isabella who explained that Bernardo had insisted on calling the police.
    But they said ' they said that if we called ' that ' She couldn't go on.
    We know.
    They made endless inquiries of Bernardo and sat patiently with Isabella during two hours of unbearably painful interrogation. By midnight it was over. They knew all that there was to be told. Bitter firings in the business, intrigues and rivalries, forgotten enemies and grudge-bearing friends.
    And they've said nothing about when they want the money