“It’s no fault of yours what Bruno does, Nicolo.”
He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. "I knew something was up with him. He's been drinking a lot more than usual. He even got drunk at your wedding and had to be carried out."
“Again, you cannot be held responsible for the actions of an adult man, Nicolo. He’s grown enough to make his own decisions,” I tell him, my eyes narrowing. “And dealing with the consequences of those decisions.”
The question is clear.Are you going to get in my way in this?
“You’re right,” Nicolo says, reading me clearly. “He needs to pay for what he’s done.”
I nod once. On that, we're clear. Nicolo is not only my stepbrother but also my best friend, but I won’t spare Bruno. Not even for him. Not after seeing the fear in Sofia’s eyes. That damned picture is ingrained in my mind. Fuck, I know I’ll see it in my head for a very long time before it fades.
“Should we call Dad?” Antonio asks.
"No," I say with a shake of my head. "Bruno is his stepson. He'll be soft on him if only to spare Estella’s feelings. There is no reality where I will accept Bruno walking away from this in one piece.”
I receive nods from my brothers but before I can get back to pacing, Lorenzo shoots to his feet. “I found him,” he exclaims. We all rush to his side. “I used the data from the picture Bruno sent. The idiot forgot to turn off his location tracking.”
“Lorenzo, where?” I demand impatiently.
“Red Hook, Brooklyn."
Fuck, there are an endless number of hiding places in that neighborhood. Taking into account all those residential and commercial buildings, the fucker could be keeping her anywhere. “What's the exact location, Lorenzo, or do I need to get my men to comb through every building in that neighborhood until we find her?"
“I know where he’s keeping her.” Nicolo’s words stop me before I can storm off. I turn to find him staring at the computer. He drops his head, resignation flooding his words. “Our father used to own a warehouse in Red Hook, but he sold it. It's been empty for years."
“He’s right,” Lorenzo chimes in. “He’s holding her at a warehouse."
“Get armed, boys, let’s give our dear big brother a surprise.”
But they don’t need the order. They’re already moving before I finish speaking.
Chapter Eight
Sofia
The air in the warehouse hangs thick with the scent of dust and decay. There is also an air of despair but I figure that is coming from the man pacing a few feet from me with a bottle of whiskey swinging in one hand and a gun firmly gripped in the other.
God, it’s just my luck that I would marry into a family with a maniac.
I strain against the ropes, whimpering behind the gag when they bite into my wrists, the coarse material chafing my skin. It’s useless to even try—the ropes are too tight and the knots too secure. Each futile tug brings a fresh wave of panic, and the silence of the warehouse only works to amplify the frantic beating of my heart.
Calm down, Sofia. Slow deep breaths.
Across from me, Bruno rambles under his breath, seemingly lost in his own world. For a moment, I allow myself to feel sorry for the guy, but the ropes digging into my skin snap me out of it. If I feel sorry for anyone, it’s me. I’m the one bound and gagged to a chair in an empty warehouse, miles away from home.
I don’t know what I would do if I thought my birthright was given to someone else, but I don’t imagine I would kidnap an innocent bystander and keep them tied to a chair for hours.
A cold tendril of fear wraps around my chest as I try not to imagine what Bruno has in store for me. I close my eyes and bring up the image of my family. My sisters are going to be heartbroken when they find my body, and my parents… Will mourning me finally bring them closer?
And Christ, Matteo.
I should have told him I loved him when I had a chance. That text, I shouldn’t have hesitated to send it. Now he might never know that I have developed feelings for him. No, not just feelings. Love. Deep, consuming love. Will this hurt him?
Tesoro mio. His treasure, he calls me.
And I call him mine. My husband. My love. The man who comes home to me every night, who listens when I talk about my designs, who holds me like I’m precious.
What will losing me do to him?
