“They ran inside and found signs of a struggle. A fuck-ton of money scattered all over the bed. A backpack with a fake ID and some basics in it. Stuff broken. They’re pretty sure he took her, though they weren’t sure whohewas.”
“Fuck. Any luck on figuring out his hidey-hole?”
Dominic scrolls on his phone, then gets a ping. “Da.”
He gives the address and tosses a few more bills into the front.
The driver glances at the cash and says, “I ain’t staying once we get there. You get out, and we part ways.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dom mutters, rolling his eyes.
I think about every single time Leanna flinched when I touched her, every time she claimed she’d been clumsy, fallen against a shelf, or whatever excuse she gave. I remember seeing her rubbing her neck as Vince left the gym.
“He’s been hurting her a long time,” I blurt, the venom in my voice sharp enough to burn through steel.
Dom exhales through his nose. “Yeah. He’s got a reputation. A fetish for hurting people. For enjoying it.”
I turn and look at my friend.
I’ve got a reputation too. Mine’s no secret. I like to inflict pain, but only on those who deserve it. The ones who prey on children, traffic women, or profit from other people’s misery.
This world is gray, twisted, and the lines blur more than I’d like. But I’ve always known where to strike, and I’ve always made sure punishment fits the crime.
Vincenzo, though… He doesn’t just hurt people; he feeds on it. He thrives on their fear. I can see it in my mind: his sick smile, the wild gleam in his eyes as he takes it out on the one person who dared stand in his way.
His younger sister.
Smarter. Sharper. More logical.
Everything he isn’t.
That kind of rage is a living fire. It eats through men like him until there’s nothing left but violence.
And I know exactly what he’s capable of.
Which is why the thought of him laying a hand on Leanna makes my blood boil hot enough to kill.
“This doesn’t end in negotiations,” I snarl, “It ends with me getting her out and breaking him piece by piece until he finally learns what real pain feels like.”
Dom shoots me a look, approving and warning at the same time.
I don’t care which. I’m past reason.
Because Vince hurt her, and for that, there’s only one outcome. I won’t stop until he pays for every mark, every bruise, every ounce of fear he’s ever put in her.
I turn to Dom. “Call the Barkov men. Quietly. I want them ready and nearby before we make our move. If shit goes south, I want muscle on the ground in under two minutes.”
Dom hesitates for half a heartbeat, then nods and pulls out his phone. “On it.”
“Fucking game on,” I growl.
I watch Dom’s fingers fly across his screen. The only thing keeping me from snapping right now is the thought of Vince’s face when he realizes the mistake he made.
“Boss,” Dom says, pulling me from my thoughts. “I know you try to protect this woman, but Vincenzo is still the Don’s son. Her brother. You can’t just go in, guns blazing, and take him out.”
“Blyat, I know,” I growl.
The truth is, I was ready to do just that.
