I nod. It’s all I can manage. Speaking to them about being careful not to accidentally hit Emilia in the cross fire or having them watch out for her safety won’t matter if she’s not here. I can’t think of her being dead, not if I want to keep my focus.
And also because I don’t know if I can come back from that loss.
My fucking wife is a liability, which I warned Tristano about long ago. But she’s also greater than any asset I could ever possess, buy, or come across. Emilia is a gift, and I’ll treat her like the queen she is or die trying.
Vaughn and his men circle around the side of the building. I trail behind them, keeping my steps light and my hand on my weapons. Dante and Leone are my silent shadows, but as grateful as I am for their loyalty, I can’t concentrate on anything except getting to my wife.
The first gunshots shatter the quiet before I’ve had a chance to get inside, and every loud popping sound causes my gut to clench. Is that the bullet that ended Emilia’s life? Or is it the one that kept her alive?
I peer around the doorframe to find an array of chaos and flying ammo. Weapons are being discharged at a rapid rate, the exchange so heavy I’m diving behind a crate nearest to me. Splinters and chunks of wood fly into the air when my barricade is hit by gunfire. I can’t risk getting my head fucking blown off, but not having seen Emilia makes my blood run cold and hot all at once.
When there’s a small window of coverage from my men and those with me, I lean to the side and release a barrage of bullets into the unfamiliar male close to me. I’ve already selected another target before his body hits the ground, and then the new mark joins his fallen comrade. In my peripheral is a streak, a flash of color, and I swing to face the bright teal, catching a glimpse of Emilia as she’s dragged through a doorway.
“She’s over there!” My shout is lost in the numerous sounds hitting the air all at once, but Dante and Leone, plus two of Vaughn’s men, make their way in her direction. I’m closer and reach the exit first, stepping outside into the loading dock area outdoors. Only to come to a complete halt. My men, along with the Russian group, are right on my heels, and I hold out my arms wide to prevent them from taking another step.
“Stop, Silvestri, or she’s fucking dead!”
I immediately raise my hands in surrender at seeing Emilia’s life in danger, Caruso standing behind her with a gun pressed to her temple. My wife stares at me with a stoic expression on her beautiful face, and when my gaze connects with hers, Emilia’s emerald eyes become shiny with emotion. I peruse her quickly from top to bottom, searching for major injuries, and other than Caruso threatening her, she appears unharmed. Relief threatens to swamp me, but I ignore it. There is still a very real chance my wife could end up dead.
“Isn’t Paris nice this time of year?” I ask. After leaning against the exterior wall, I assume a nonchalant air and a bored expression. “I had no idea you were in town, Caruso. I don’t do threesomes, so I’m not sure why you chased after me and your daughter.”
“I wondered if you’d show up,” he says.
“Why are you here?”
“My daughter invited me.” He grins when I raise a brow in silent questioning. “Emilia’s been chipped like the other trafficked girls I ship out. I’ve always known her whereabouts. Do you really think I’d let my opportunity for a seat within the Wolf Pack be taken from me?”
Emilia’s eyes widen, allowing me to view the shock and horror within. My wife truly didn’t know Caruso implanted a chip in her, and it’s written all over her face.
My wife’s gaze collides with mine, and she mouths, “I’m sorry,” with trembling lips. The sight of her apologizing to me when she’s done nothing wrong is like a heel to my windpipe. I break our connection and focus solely on that piece of shit Caruso. The very idea of him tagging her like an animal and invading her privacy is enough to make my hands shake. I cross my arms to hide signs of weakness from him. He’s shrewd, and him being outnumbered and outmanned won’t stop Caruso from using this situation to his advantage. It’s not the first time he’s exploited Emilia to get what he wanted.
But it will be the last time.
“What do you want?” I tilt my head and offer a bored expression. “I’m in the middle of a business arrangement with Fontaine, which I really need to get back to. So if you could move this the fuck along, that would be great.” As I say the words, I scrutinize every man in the alley, waiting for one of them to reveal themself as the French cunt who took my wife.
Caruso grinds the barrel of the gun into Emilia’s head, and she winces. His flushed face grows even redder, and I somewhat expect steam to billow from his ears. His anger doesn’t compare to the wrath I’m going to invoke on him.
“It’s not about what I want,” he says. “I’m going to have a place in the Wolf Pack, but it can be through you or Rossi. It’s up to you who ends up with her.” Caruso shakes Emilia, and she doesn’t make a sound. Although, the paling of her lips signals how tight his grip is on her upper arm.
I stroke my chin. “Rossi still wants her even though I’ve put my cock in every single part of her? Interesting…” Emilia’s gaze drops to the floor. Everything I say is like acid on my tongue, slowly killing me. “I don’t care if he has her, but my wife ending up with another man won’t be good for business.”
“Rossi is a sick bastard,” Caruso says with a shrug, “and he’s always been fascinated by my daughter. Fuck knows why, but it doesn’t matter. The only thing I care about is the council seat, not you or theUnione Corse. I deliver girls to both groups, so that’s your problem.”
A short blonde-haired man zips his gaze to Caruso. “The Italian slut is supposed to ensure the deal with Fontaine doesn’t go through.” He gestures to me in sharp, jagged movements. “He’ll have no reason to stop the negotiations if I don’t have leverage against him, which means offering her to you was pointless,” he says to Caruso.
“Pascal, you wanted to coerce Silvestri, using his wife,andoffer my daughter to me as a means to obtain a favor,” Emilia’s father says. “You can’t put your dick in multiple holes and expect to never catch anything.”
The Frenchman’s gaze narrows, and instinct has my entire body locking up with tension. Pascal’s clearly not okay with how the circumstances are panning out, which means I have to watch him more carefully. He could be a powder keg, waiting for a single flame.
“I’m leaving with Emilia,” Caruso says, his attention on me. “Unless you call your brother and have him nominate me to be considered in the upcoming council meeting. With his show of support, there’s no reason I won’t fill the vacant slot.” He smirks at Pascal. “Once that’s done, I don’t care what happens between you and Silvestri.”
A look of understanding passes between the two men, and I know my time is up.
Now I have a choice to make.
Do I sabotage my revenge against Caruso in order to save Emilia’s life?
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