Aurelio laughs once, a dry rustle. “Safe house,” he spits. “She’s in a safe house.”
“Which one?” Vin snaps. “We checked all the New York safe houses, and there’s no trace of her. Where is she?”
Aurelio trembles but makes a show of puffing his chest, his accent so thick he’s barely understandable. “I told you. Safe house. I don’t—”
“Don’t bother lying,” I say. “Who’s with her?”
Aurelio’s eyes flick to Vin. “Antonio,” he says after a beat. “Antonio takes care of her.”
A hiss escapes Vin. “Antonio?” he repeats. “You put her with him? Are you out of your mind?”
Aurelio’s laugh turns wet. “He’s…her husband. He’ll get the job done.”
My blood runs cold. I’ve seen Antonio’s version of ‘getting the job done’ in the videos. I can feel the animal part of me awakening.
I’m pressing the blade of my knife to Aurelio’s throat before I realize I’m drawing it out of my pocket. I press the side of it into his skin until he hisses in a breath.
“Tommy.” Vin’s voice is a hard stop.
I shift my gaze to his, cold and unyielding. He stares back, his eyes full of warning. The message is clear: this won’t save Giovanna. I pause, then flip the blade closed and slide it back in my pocket.
Aurelio sneers, something like relief on his face. “Good,” he says. “You can’t make me tell you—”
I wave Dr. Rossi over. “Take care of him.”
Vin barks, “And keep him under until I say otherwise.”
I nod. With him under sedation, we can stop him from doing anymore damage while I look for Giovanna.
12
Tommy
My eyes are dry, burning from staring at the screen too long, but I can’t look away. Another day, another video from the blocked number.
This one makes my stomach knot. Antonio is shoving his cock into Giovanna’s face, her body limp beneath him. She doesn’t move. Doesn’t fight. Doesn’t open her eyes. For a heartbeat, I can’t breathe. Is she dead?
I scrub back through the video, my thumb sliding over the progress bar, watching it frame by frame. Her eyes are always closed, but—there. A turn of her head. Her lips part slightly. Her body shifts. She’s alive. Drugged probably, definitely hurt, but alive.
My phone lights up with Valentina’s name before I can hit play and watch it again.
I answer. “What?”
“I found him.” Her voice is too light, too casual, like she’s calling about a fucking brunch date.
“Found who?”
“Gi’s man.”
Rage cuts through me. “I’mher man. If you’re talking about Antonio—”
She lets out a sharp laugh. “Whatever. You ready to talk to the cuck, then? I found him.”
“Where?”
“Not until you promise me you won’t hurt him.”
I close my eyes, gripping the phone so tight my knuckles pop. “Valentina, I’m not going to do that.”
