Fuck, fuck, fuck.
How could I have missed this?
“How long were you undercover?”
Oliver shrugged, leaning on the bar. “For about two years. The best way was to approach Angelica, as it was easy enough to make her fall in love with me. However, it didn’t bring me much-needed information. Instead, I had to focus on Ciara, and then all this shit with the accident happened. Let’s just say things started to get interesting.” His voice sounded matter-of-fact, as if we were discussing the weather on a Sunday morning. I rushed to him, grabbed his vest, and pushed him against the wall with all my strength while holding his indifferent stare.
“All this time you knew she was alive and kept it to yourself?” Pushing him again, I glanced over my shoulder to Melissa, who guiltily cast her eyes down. “FBI fucking worked on Ercole all this time, right? So you knew where she was.” Letting go of Oliver, who surprisingly hadn’t even fought my hold on him, I turned my attention to Melissa while Yuri stood up between us, essentially blocking my way.
“That’s the mother of my child, Pakhan. You can’t hurt her.”
My hollow laughter echoed in the room. “Shut your mouth, Kaznachei. She was no one when you declared her pregnancy.” His lips tightened while his hands fisted, and Melissa gasped, but not before lowering her eyes again, which were full of hurt.
She then met my anguished gaze, and replied hurriedly, “Oliver works for a different group, Dominic. I had no idea about this. Please believe me. We have no time. We need to save her.”
The only thing we both could agree on.
I’d get my woman back and ensure her safety, but fuck the FBI and their fucking rules. They knew shit about saving people.
Rosa
Groaning, due to the pain in my scalp, my heavy lids opened, and disoriented, I studied the place around me. The cold house had old rusty furniture with piles of dust, and cracked wooden floors, which had some kind of stains on them, reminding me of blood. But it couldn't be it, right? The curtains, which were probably white once, had turned grey, and along with the metal bars on the windows, created an atmosphere of despair and hopelessness.
Heavy footsteps startled me as Ciara walked in holding a gun in her hand. “Oh, you are awake.” She seemed calm, as if nothing out of the ordinary happened here.
“What’s going on?” I stood up, swayed a little, and grabbed onto the couch to balance myself. “Where is Jake?” The little boy was nowhere in sight, and if we were under attack, he needed to be protected first and foremost.
“Upstairs.” Nodding, I darted up and opened the first door, and sure enough, he was sitting in a corner against the cold concrete; the room didn't even have wallpaper it was so bare. “Honey.” He stepped toward me, but then someone fisted my hair and tugged on it painfully, and his eyes widened in fear. Then a knife entered my stomach and unbearable pain assaulted my senses, as it twisted even deeper.
“Rosa, your stupidity has to be seen to be believed.” With that, she locked Jake inside, dragging me outside as I struggled against her hold. She spun around, and the downstairs was the only thing I saw before she kicked me in the back and I fell, rolling down the steps and hitting my legs, hips, and head. In a second, I landed on my stomach and face, as the droplets of blood fell from my nose and split lip. The wound on my stomach coated my T-shirt in blood as my shock turned to anguish.
My body ached, and I barely could move my leg, so I had no choice but to crawl. “How pathetic, you can’t even defend yourself.” She hopped down and then kicked me on my already-bruised ribs, and I howled in pain as she just laughed.
What made her so evil? “How does it feel to suffer without anyone giving a damn?” Life sure liked to deliver blow after blow to me, while those sick and insane people questioned me every time they inflicted their torture. “While you are at someone else’s mercy?”
My vision blurred, but I had to stay awake and find some way to help Jake. Then expensive, black leather Italian shoes came into view, as the person stopped next to Ciara. “Cara mia, I knew you’d make it.” The excitement in his voice disgusted me. “You brought your uncle his greatest wish?” Was it… Ercole? Meeting his gaze as I lifted my head, he grinned, licking his lips. “Sorcha’s daughter.”
Blinking a few times, trying to take in painful breaths, I struggled to focus on the conversation.
My mother. What did my mom have to do with it?
Ercole crouched next to me. “She was a beauty, your mom. No one like her existed. Her family promised me her.’’ I almost threw up right there at the idea of him hurting my mom. “My greatest love.” Then his eyes turned cold and annoyed, and he slapped me hard, so much my head swung. “Sorcha ran away and married Don and had you. When she was supposed to be mine.” Then he got up, patting Ciara on the arm approvingly. “Thankfully, Ciara included me in her plan to acquire rights to your body. I just gave Dom a little hint, so we could speed up this process.”
Ciara gasped, clearly as surprised as me. “It was you?” So much venom and hate in her voice.
“Of course. A wedding to Oliver didn't have this adrenalin rush.” He leaned forward to kiss Ciara, but she ducked him and then took out her gun, shocking both of us.
“I hate you as much as all of them. Hilarious how all you did was speed up your own ending.” With that, she shot his dick while his agonized scream of pain echoed in the house, scaring even me.
He held onto his appendage, dropping to his knees. He wasn’t able to move due to the bullet hitting sensitive nerves and blood flowing everywhere. Then Ciara turned her attention to me.
“The piece of shit was actually that delusional,” she laughed. “Really thought I’d give him you as a gift after everything he put me through. As stupid as Alfonso. Because of you,” she spat.
Moving strands of hair from my sweaty forehead, blood smeared on my face, but I didn't care. So she was the mastermind behind all this? She had ruined my life and felt completely justified in doing so. I whispered, “Why do you hate me so much?”
“My father married my mother. She was the spitting image of yours. He had loved my mother so much, even though he was part of this business.”
“Business?” Each word hurt me more than the previous one, and I was losing more blood by the second.
