I’m already walking away, my mind racing. Romano said I’d figure out where he took her. That I’m a smart man. But where? Where would he?—
My phone rings and my heart drops. Is it Romano again?
I glance down and scowl when I see who it is. Viktor Torrino.
“What?” I snap, answering the phone.
“Luca. I heard what happened,” Viktor says. “I have resources that might help locate her.”
“Then use them. Now. I need to know every property Romano has access to. Every safe house, every bolt hole, every place he might have,” I order.
“I’m already working on it,” Viktor interrupts. “But Luca, you need to approach this with your head on straight. Romano’s baiting you. If you walk into whatever trap he’s set without backup, he will kill you.”
“I don’t care.” My hand clenches around the phone. “He has Gigi. She’sdying, Viktor. So either help me find her or get off the fucking phone.”
A pause. “Give me thirty minutes. I’ll have something for you.”
Thirty minutes? That’s thirty minutes Gigi doesn’tfuckinghave.
But I force myself to nod. “Thirty minutes,” I repeat. “Then I’m moving with or without information.”
I end the call and turn to find Danny watching me with concern that borders on fear.
“What?” I ask shortly, my mind already racing of places Gigi could be.
“The crew’s mobilizing,” he says quietly. “But you need to think about what you’re doing. If you go after Romano like this, if you tear apart the city looking for her?—”
“Then I tear apart the city,” I finish flatly. “I don’t care about consequences, Danny. I don’t care about strategy or politics or what it costs. I’m getting her back.”
“Even if it starts a war?” His green eyes pierce mine.
I stare right back at him. I’ve made my decision. “Especiallyif it starts a war.”
And I’m going to bring the war straight to Romano.
The thirty minutes pass, and Viktor fails to find me information fast enough.
The first Romano soldier I find is leaving a bar on the South Side. Mid-level enforcer, maybe thirty years old. The fucker thinks he’s untouchable because he works for Salvatore.
He’s wrong.
I drag him into the alley behind the bar, my hands already moving before he can reach for his weapon. I break his nose first with a quick, efficient strike that sends blood streaming down his face and makes him scream.
“Where is Romano keeping her?” I demand.
The man wildly swings at me, and I duck it easily.
“I don’t—fuck—I don’t know what you’re?—”
I break his kneecap with the heel of my boot. The scream that tears from him echoes off the brick walls, but I don’t care who hears. Let them come. I’ll deal with them too.
“Where is she?” I roar. This bastard has to know something, and I’m going to fucking make him talk.
“I swear, I don’t know about any girl!” the enforcer yelps as blood runs down his face.
The next kneecap. More screaming. I wait for it to subside before leaning close.
“Romano has my wife. She’s bleeding out somewhere while you waste my time with lies,” I hiss. “So I’m going to start breaking bones until you tell me where he keeps his safe houses. Every. Single. One.”
