Alessio grabs his jacket from a nearby chair. "We leave in two minutes."
"I'm coming with you," I say, my tone making it clear this isn't up for discussion.
"Absolutely not." Alessio's response is immediate and firm.
"You've done enough already," Enzo adds, venom dripping from every word.
I step forward, desperation clawing at my throat. "Please, I need to help them."
"Enough," Alessio interrupts, his voice quieter but somehow more final than Enzo's shouting. "You're staying here."
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Blood drips from my temple to the floor below, each drop a steady metronome marking time in this hellhole. My arms scream in agony, shoulders threatening to dislocate from the chains holding me suspended from the warehouse ceiling. But the pain is nothing compared to the rage burning in my chest.
"I'll ask you one more time," the bigger of Byron's men says, cracking his knuckles. "Where is Zoe?"
I spit blood onto his polished shoes. "Fuck you."
The punch comes fast—a heavyweight's jab to my kidney that makes my vision swim. I bite down on a groan, refusing to give them the satisfaction.
"You're making this harder than it needs to be," the second man says, voice smooth as silk. He's thedangerous one. The quiet ones always are. "Mr. Easton only wants what belongs to him."
"Zoe doesn't belong to anyone." My voice sounds raw even to my own ears.
"Sweet," the big one laughs. "You actually think she gives a shit about you? She played you, Feretti. The whole time."
I say nothing, letting my silence hang between us. They can break whatever bones they want. They won't break me.
The quiet one steps closer, examining me like I'm a puzzle he's trying to solve. "You know what I think?" He wipes blood from my eyebrow almost tenderly. "I think you don't know where she is. And that's what's really eating at you, isn't it?"
His words hit harder than any punch. He's right. I have no fucking idea where Zoe is, if she's safe, if she even cares. All I know is that Lucrezia is in the next room—I heard her scream once when they first brought us here. The sound nearly stopped my heart.
When the pipe connects with my ribs, something cracks inside me. Stars explode behind my eyes, but I swallow the scream that tries to claw its way out of my throat.
"Byron wants to handle you himself," the quiet one says, checking his watch. "But he said to soften you up first." His eyes flick to my bloodied face. "Though if I'm being honest, you look pretty soft already."
"Your mom didn't thought so," I manage through gritted teeth.
This time, the pipe finds my knee. The pain is electric, shooting up my thigh and into my spine. I can't stop the grunt that escapes me, and the big man smiles.
"There we go. That's what I like to hear."
Blood trickles into my eye, turning the world red. I blink it away, focusing on staying conscious. They can break my body, but my mind stays fixed on one thought: I'm going to kill Byron Easton. Slowly. Personally.
And if Zoe was part of this...
I cut the thought off before it can form fully. No. Despite everything, despite the lies and half-truths between us, I can't believe she set us up.
"Byron's gonna be pissed when he finds out we took the wrong girl," the big one mutters, voice low but not low enough.
My ears prick up through the haze of pain. Wrong girl?
"Shut up," the quiet one hisses, glancing my way.
A laugh bubbles up from deep in my chest, starting as a chuckle before growing into something wild and uncontrolled. Blood sprays from my split lip as I throw my head back, the sound echoing through the warehouse.
"Something funny, Feretti?" The quiet one steps forward, eyes narrowed to slits.
