My finger itches to pull the trigger, but my brain is screaming not to. I need the information he’s got to rescue my wife, and it would be shortsighted of me to kill him now.
“He doesn’t know where she is,” Luca says coolly.
“Yes, I do,” Marcello claims.
“Where?” I demand.
“She’s with Andretti making sweet love,” Marcello says with a laugh.
That’s all I can take. His taunt flips a switch in my head, and I lose sight of the bigger picture. I can feel myself depressing the trigger an instant before I do it, but there’s no stopping me now.
The bullet screams out of my barrel, digging its way into Marcello’s skull. Giovanni and Luca open fire beside me, and together, we fill the bastard full of lead. I won’t get anyinformation from him now, but he wasn’t going to tell me the truth anyway.
I’m sure Marlena hasn’t gone to Andretti to seek comfort. We had a plan. I was going to send her to Italy to be safe. But that doesn’t mean that Andretti hasn’t kidnapped her again. For all I know, he could be holding her somewhere, ready to trade his future security for hers.
Luca steps forward to check the body. There’s no need. No one could eat that much lead and survive. But he’s just being thorough, and I watch him go. He kicks Marcello onto his back, crouching down to take a pulse. I can see at least six wounds on his torso, and one in his left eye socket. The man is dead; there’s no faking that.
Luca looks up, unsure whether to celebrate or commiserate. I turn around, knowing that my men will dispose of the body. I have more important things to do than worry about Marcello. He’s gone. He got what he deserved. But my attention is elsewhere. I need to find Marlena and satisfy myself that she’s still alive. Even though she said she was leaving me, I care about her too much to let her fall into the hands of my enemy.
CHAPTER 51
MARLENA
The ride-share driver pulls up to the front gate and lets me out. I see the guard come around, looking like he’s seen a ghost. He tries to talk to the driver, but the car is already pulling away. I show the guard my app, as I select five stars, and the man just shakes his head.
“The boss is looking for you,” he says.
I check my texts and see that Francisco has answered. I wonder why I didn’t see the notification earlier, but then realize that the phone is set to silent. I know I’m in trouble now. Francisco didn’t explicitly tell me not to go wandering around, but the plethora of bodyguards is a good clue.
I hurry into the compound with the guard at my heels. I’m trying to think of all the excuses I can muster, that seeing Dad’s grave was important, that Brandon needed to get away, that I couldn’t find Francisco to ask for his permission, but they all seem to pale in comparison to the threat of death at Carlo Andretti’s hands.
I walk up the front porch steps, and every eye I meet is simultaneously relieved and afraid. I’ve never seen anything likeit. I don’t know what to expect, but then I see my personal guard on the sofa, nursing a broken nose. He doesn’t meet my eyes, and I know that he’s in trouble because of me.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
He doesn’t respond.
“I know I shouldn’t have left. I realize that now,” I try. I actually like the guy. His whole job is keeping me safe, and I’ve made that extremely difficult for him. I feel bad, and that only compounds the guilt that’s burrowing into my stomach. I’m not used to this, having security following me around, but that’s no excuse either.
Francisco comes in the front door and catches sight of me. We stand there for a heartbeat, gazing at each other from across the room. It seems like neither of us are prepared for this reunion.
“I’m sorry,” I begin.
Francisco grabs me by the arm and leads me back to his office. I half expect him to yell at me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he locks the door and positions me in the middle of the room. The place is trashed. There are books lying all over the place and broken glass scattered between them. I wonder what happened, and if it had anything to do with me saying I was leaving. I want to make things right, so I open my mouth to ask him if I can stay. But he interrupts me.
“Where did you go?” he asks.
“To visit my father’s grave,” I say.
“You know that was dangerous,” he says. I can’t read his emotions, and that makes me nervous.
“I know,” I agree. “I’m sorry, but I felt that it was important.”
“Marlena—” he begins.
“Francisco—” I try.
“I can’t say this plainly enough,” he says. I can hear an edge in his voice this time, and it’s frightening. I can see his emotions brimming beneath the surface now when he’s usually so contained. He’s giving me a glimpse behind the tough mafia boss persona no one gets to see. “You can’t run away.”
