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I pointed at my housekeeper and chef, staring in horror.
“Release them immediately, Katerina.”
“They might be involved in this kidnap plot.”
“Katerina! Please!”
“You wouldn’t believe how often a kidnapping is masterminded with an insider in play.”
“Fucking hell! Stop, for the love of god!”
I felt desperate, angry, and afraid. My home had become an assassin’s lair, my kitchen an interrogation room, and my future mother-in-law was at war, tearing up my life hunting for anyone who would do me harm.
When Katerina reluctantly released our housekeeper and chef, they rubbed their wrists and ankles where the sisals had wrung and torn at sensitive skin. Marco smiled, perhaps wishing Katerina might have gone further, but Maria went into a tirade of abuse aimed at her antagonist.
When Katerina answered her in fluent Italian, Maria calmed, as shocked as I was. She pointed to chairs, assuming control of the situation, and both former prisoners sat down sullenly, glancing from their accusor to me.
“Have either of you two been talking about my son and daughter?”