I stood, gathering myself to leave. “I’ll handle Maurizio today. And I’ll keep Frankie updated on what we discussed about the LaGrassa situation.”
“Good,” Nicco said. “Keep me informed about both.”
I nodded, understanding the double meaning. Nicco wanted to know not just about the business with the LaGrassas’, but also how my “conversation” with Maurizio went. He was giving me enough rope to handle things my way, but not enough to hang myself, or Maurizio.
As I walked toward the door, I felt a strange calm replacing the rage that had consumed me minutes ago. I had a plan now. First, I would talk to Maurizio. Make him understand exactly who he was dealing with. Then I would find Labria, clear up this misunderstanding about Lolita, and bring her home where she belonged.
And if she was already carrying my child thanks to my little pill swap? All the better. Some might call it manipulation. I called it ensuring what was mine stayed mine. After all, in our world, you protected what belonged to you, by any means necessary. It was what Dom had taught us. It was what had kept the Bregoli family in power for generations.
I’d deal with the consequences later. For now, I had a cousin to find.
Chapter Twelve
LABRIA
Ihad a hard day at work. I pushed through the heavy glass doors of Stern, Foster, and Pellegrino. The weight of my briefcase was nothing compared to the exhaustion pressing down on my shoulders.
It was seven-thirty in the evening, and I was finally leaving after a day that felt endless. The parking lot was almost empty, with just my Mercedes and a few other cars scattered across the dark asphalt. I should have been more alert, but I was tired. I should have noticed something was off, but my feet hurt like hell. My mind was still tangled in lease agreements and property disputes, not watching for any dangers or hazards in the familiar path to my car.
The click of my heels echoed through the concrete structure. I couldn’t wait to slip out of my heels. I fumbled in my purse for my keys, already thinking about the bottle of wine waiting for me at Maurizio’s townhouse. Our relationship was still new, still fragile, but there was comfort in knowing someone was waiting for me. Someone who acts like they give a damn.
I felt something was odd before I saw them. There was a shift in the dry Nevada air. There was a presence behind me that made the hair on my neck rise. I turned abruptly with mykeys clutched between my fingers as a makeshift weapon, but I was too slow. Two men materialized from between parked cars, moving like ninjas. One lunged forward, clamping a large, gloved hand over my mouth while the other grabbed my arms, twisting them behind my back with brutal force.
I tried to scream, but the sound died against the stranger’s leather palm. His breath was hot against my ear. He smelled of cigarettes and mint-flavored gum. “Ms. Harris, don’t fight.” He growled.
Fear paralyzed my body realizing they knew my name, and this wasn’t some random robbery. I shook off my sudden paralysis. I thought wildly as I thrashed against their hold. My briefcase clattered to the ground. One of them ripped my purse from my shoulder. The key fob, along with the other keys, fell from my grasp. It landed with a metallic jingle that seemed to echo the death of my freedom.
“Grab her legs.” The second man hissed. “Let’s get her in the car.”
The car? Oh no, they were taking me to a second location. I knew that was a death sentence.
I managed to get one arm free and clawed at the hand covering my mouth. My nails drew blood, and the man cursed, momentarily loosening his grip. I sucked in air to scream, but the sound was cut short as something soft, a cloth replaced his hand. It pressed against my face. A sweet, chemical smell invaded my nostrils.
No, no, no. I screamed the words in my head. My thoughts grew foggy as my limbs became too heavy. Not unconsciousness, but a state of disorientation where my body refused to cooperate with my mind’s desperate commands to fight for my life. They half-carried, half-dragged me between cars to a black sedan I hadn’t noticed before. The trunk was already open.
They lifted me into the cramped space. The trunk slammed shut, and darkness enveloped me completely. Now, I was going to die.
I tried to slow my breathing, to focus through the chemical haze that was still clinging to my senses. The space was tight. I shifted slightly, attempting to find some leverage, some way to brace myself. My hands weren’t bound. They hadn’t bothered. They didn’t need to. I was a rag-doll. They knew the chemical on that cloth would keep me compliant long enough.
The engine roared to life, vibrating through the metal beneath me. I was jolted as the car reversed, then lurched forward. Each turn sent me sliding helplessly against the hard interior of the trunk. I tried to track our movements. There was a right turn, then straight for what felt like minutes, a series of lefts that might have been a roundabout. I couldn’t keep up. I soon lost all sense of direction in the dark confines.
My thoughts clarified as the effects of whatever they’d used began to wear off. Did Nicco decide to kill me because of Gianni? It had to be. He fooled me into thinking he was helping me, but Gianni was his uncle, and he wasn’t going to let me get away with killing him even if it was self-defense.
A kidnapping from my workplace? Fury replaced fear. There was white-hot rage that burned through my veins. How dare he? After everything I’ve been through with this murderous ass family. Why would he do this? He’s the one that got me to come back to Vegas. He helped me get this job. Why? I was more of an asset than a liability. I had proven my loyalty to this fucked-up Italian mafia family.
But beneath the anger lurked a colder, more insidious emotion, fear. After the fear, there was regret. I had gotten myself into this bullshit over a man. My sister was going to have to bury me too. That’s if Nicco was decent enough not to burn or bury my body somewhere. I hoped he liked my sister enough tolet her at least have a body to bury. My thoughts hated me just as much as I hated myself at the moment. Did Lord tell Nicco he could kill me? I didn’t want to think about that man hating me so much he was okay with his brother getting rid of me.
The car slowed, then descended what felt like a ramp. The change in air pressure and the echoing sound of the engine told me we were underground now. A parking garage, maybe. The car stopped, the engine died, and footsteps approached. I tensed, preparing myself for whatever came next. Maybe a bullet to my head.
Light flooded the trunk as it opened, momentarily blinding me. I blinked rapidly, taking in what details I could. We were indeed in an underground garage surrounded by concrete pillars. The ceiling was low. The lighting was dim. This wasn’t some abandoned warehouse or secret mafia hideout. This was a luxury building’s private parking.
“Out you come, Ms. Harris.” The man who’d covered my mouth reached in with his hands, surprisingly gentle now as he helped me climb out of the trunk. His face was unfamiliar. The second man stood nearby, my purse in his hands but not my briefcase.
I found my footing, straightening my skirt with as much dignity as I could muster. “Where are we?” I demanded, with my assertive lawyer voice.
Neither man answered. One took my arm firmly enough that I couldn’t pull away. The other walked ahead, leading us toward an elevator at the far end of the garage. Not the main elevators that would service the entire building, but a private one, set apart, requiring a keycard for access.
The man swiped a black card against the sensor, and the doors slid open with a chime. They ushered me inside the steel cage. The three of us stood in an uncomfortable proximity as the doors closed. There were no buttons inside, just a smoothpanel of brushed steel. The elevator began to rise immediately. We were headed to what I assumed was a pre-programmed destination.
