"Fucking amateurs." I keep laughing, each shake sending fresh stabs of pain through my broken ribs. "You grabbed the wrong fucking girl."
The big one's face flushes red. "Shut him up!"
"Let me guess," I continue, relishing the way their faces twist with anger. "Byron wanted Zoe, but you idiots took Lucrezia instead." I bare my bloodstained teeth in a feral grin. "You have any idea what you've done?"
The quiet one slams his fist into my stomach. I wheeze but keep that smile plastered on my face.
"Doesn't matter who the girl is," he snarls. "She's still leverage."
"She's my sister." I lock eyes with him. "And now you're all dead men walking."
The big one shifts his weight, doubt creeping into his expression. "Byron never said anything about a sister."
"That's because Byron is a fucking moron." I spit a mouthful of blood onto the concrete. "And so are you if you think you're walking away from this."
"Go ahead and call Byron," I taunt, making my voice as irritating as possible. "I'd love to hear you explain how you grabbed the wrong woman. The great Byron Easton, can't even hire guys who can tell the difference between a blonde and a brunette."
The big one steps forward, face twisted with rage. "I'm gonna enjoy making you bleed more than you already do, Feretti."
"Then get to it," I challenge him, rattling my chains. "Because the clock's ticking, and when my men find this place—and they will find it—there won't be enough left of you to be identified."
The quiet one puts a restraining hand on his partner's arm. "He's trying to rile you up."
I can see the uncertainty in both their faces now. They don't know what to do, and indecision will cost them time.
Time that might save Lucrezia. Time for Zoe to get somewhere safe. Time for my men to tear this city apart looking for us.
I keep smiling through the blood.
Lucrezia's scream tears through the warehouse—raw, terrified, and brutally cut short.
That wasn't just fear. That was pain.
"What the fuck are you doing to her?" I roar, my body surging against the chains with renewed strength. The metal cuts into my wrist.
Another scream—this one worse than the first.
"LUCREZIA!" My voice shatters against the concrete walls. I thrash wildly, the chains clanking against their moorings. Every muscle in my body strains as I pull with everything I have.
The quiet one steps back, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Sounds like someone's having a chat with your sister."
"If they touch one fucking hair on her head—" The words come out as a growl, primal and desperate.
"You'll what?" The big one laughs, gesturing at my hanging form. "Make threats from your chains? Face it, Feretti, you're not in control anymore."
I hear men's voices from the other room, then a sharp crack followed by Lucrezia's sobbing.
Something inside me snaps. I throw my body against the restraints with such force that one of my shoulders makes a sickening pop. Pain blazes through me, but I keep pulling, twisting, fighting against the metal.
"Would you look at that?" The quiet one nudges his partner. "The great Damiano Feretti, reduced to an animal."
They're both laughing now, enjoying the show as I struggle helplessly.
"My men will find you," I pant, chest heaving. "And when they do?—"
"Your men don't even know where to look," the big one interrupts. "No one's coming to save you, Feretti. Not your men. Not your precious Zoe."
Another scream from Lucrezia cuts through me like a blade.
