“Wait,” Dominic hisses beside me. “Let me get a good look first.”
Patience is not one of my finest characteristics.
I don’t want to wait. My blood is already pounding, hot and violent, screaming for release.
Every instinct I have wants me to tear through the warehouse and put a bullet through Vincenzo’s skull before he can hurt her again.
Dom’s hand clamps on my arm firmly. He leans closer, voice low.
“You have to wait. One wrong move and she’s dead before you reach her.”
He’s right.
But knowing doesn’t make the fire inside me burn any less.
Vincenzo prowls the floor, rambling about fake IDs and money. His voice rises as he yells, “Where were you and Barkov running off to?”
No answer from her. That silence sets him off.
He claws at his hair with both hands, screaming again like a banshee unraveling.
My body is tense. I want to leap down from the catwalk and snap the fucker’s neck. Dominic’s arm cuts across my chest like a steel bar. He doesn’t need to speak; he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Vince leans in close, screaming into Leanna’s bloodied face. “Tell me the truth, you fucking traitor! What did you tell Nikolai Ivanov? Why were you with him? What does he know about our operations?”
To her credit, Leanna lifts her head, battered but defiant. A crooked, bloody smile twists her lips. She coughs, blood dripping down her chin, but her voice slices the air.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, Vince. All that posturing at the meetings? You handed Barkov the advantage with your stupidity. Not me.You.”
His face contorts. “Don’t you dare?—”
“You call me a traitor, coward? And you? You’re nothing but a sore loser,” she interrupts, spitting blood onto the floor. “You couldn’t handle losing, could you?”
His roar shakes the walls, looming over her. “You think words can save you? You think mouthing off makes you strong?”
She blinks through the swelling, still smirking. She wheezes, coughing through the pain. “I tried tostay outof all this, but you… You couldn’t let it go, always hunting power, always after revenge. Pathetic.”
“You little—” His hand cracks across her face, snapping her head sideways. Blood spatters. She laughs anyway, hoarse and broken, but laughing.
The sound unravels him. “You’ll pay for this,” he snarls. “When I’m done, everyone will see you failed. Dad. The Campisis. All of them.”
Leanna lifts her head, all bloodied and bruised, but still managing a defiant glare. “Then let them watch. I’ll still be standing… even if you’re too dumb to see it.”
His fury detonates.
He drives his fist into her solar plexus. The chair topples, slamming onto concrete. Her head cracks against the floor with a sickening thud. She gasps, trying to draw air into her winded lungs.
He kicks her in the ribs. Then hauls the chair upright again. She vomits, body shaking from the impact.
Where the fuck is Antonio Campisi?
That’s it.
Rage consumes me. I’m ready to end him.
But movement in the doorway freezes me.
Don Campisi in his cool grey suit.
