I kicked out at my captors again, fighting like a trapped animal. One of them cursed when I landed another kick. He released me, and I spun away. The other caught me, pinning me to his front so that I was an easy target.
A meaty fist slammed into my jaw, and the world went dark.
Chapter 15
Dante
I was supposed to be winning over Luca’s allies, Mattia and Diego, but I couldn’t focus on what they were saying. We’d been negotiating their demands for hours, a process that was dragging on because I didn’t have my full attention on them.
Please. Let him stay with me. Nora’s words of longing played through my head on a loop, and my jealousy dug black claws into my heart.
I’d been a fool to let him fuck her, to allow him to speak to her.
But I’d been high on bloodlust and my own triumph, and I’d lost myself to madness. I would’ve done anything to claim my wife after slaughtering her tormentor, Alberto. I’d craved her more keenly than I’d ever desired anything, so I’d offered her to Luca. I’d reasoned that he was mine to use as I wished, but she didn’t see him that way.
She cared about the motherfucker, the man I hated most in the world.
Far more than she cared about me.
I gnashed my teeth. Nora was my wife. She should’ve craved my tender touch after our intense sex, not his. He was less than nothing. How could she desire him?
Yes, I’d kidnapped her and forced her into marriage, but so had he. Why should he be the one that she had soft feelings for? I’d cared for her. I’d taken a bullet for her.
And yet, she preferred him.
My phone rang with a video call, further distracting me from the conversation that should have my full focus. I checked the number. I didn’t recognize it.
“I need to get this,” I told Mattia and Diego.
An unfamiliar face filled my screen. The man gave me a shit-eating grin.
When he spoke, I noted his Russian accent before the horror of his words could fully register: “We have your wife.”
All the air was punched from my chest.
No. Nora was safe back on my estate. There was no way the Bratva had gotten to her. It wasn’t possible.
But the camera angle flipped, and I roared out my rage.
Nora was sprawled on a concrete floor, blood marring her pale cheek. At the sound of my furious bellow, she stirred.
Another Russian bastard grabbed her by her hair. She screamed as he yanked her to her feet.
“Don’t touch her!” I shouted, helpless rage ripping through me.
Her captor roughly groped her breasts. “I’ll touch your wife as much as I want.”
“Dante!” She cried out for me.
She hated me, but deep down, she knew I’d sacrifice anything to protect her.
“Tell me where you are.” I managed to make the demand, but it was so gravelly that it was barely intelligible. “And keep your fucking hands off her.”
“You want her back?” the man taunted, ripping at her blouse. “Come and get her.”
She screamed my name again, and the call ended.
I bellowed out my fury and fear for her, barely preventing myself from smashing the phone against the wall. They might contact me again.
