“Move,” I shouted.
With my men and the underbosses at my side, we rushed toward the exit.
Lorenzo was already speaking into his headset, voice clipped and urgent. “Three black vans, armed. Engaging on the west side.”
We ran for the source of the gunfire, but by the time we reached the courtyard, the shots had already started to fade.
“They’re retreating,” he said. “Should we go after them?”
“Maybe that’s exactly what they want,” Paolo cut in. “To lure us out.”
A murmur rose among the men. “So we’re not going after them?”
I didn’t hesitate. My voice came out like ice. “Hell yes, we are. We’ll hunt them down and butcher every last one of them. And when we’re done, we’ll deal with the bastard who came up with this fucked-up plan. We’ll carve a message so deep they’ll feel it for generations. No one pulls this shit on us and walks away.”
I turned to my men. “Fifty come with me. The rest stay here. Lock this place down. No one comes in, no one leaves.”
After nearly fifteen minutes of chasing shadows and exchanging gunfire, we managed to take out two of the black vans. The third vanished into the night, but I wasn’t worried. Before the week was over, every man involved would be dead.
I moved among the fallen, scanning their faces. None looked familiar. Most didn’t even look Italian.
Lorenzo appeared at my side. One glance, and I knew something was wrong.
“What is it?”
“Lucia is missing.They found a letter in her room.”
The words didn’t register. My brain refused to make sense of them. Lucia?MyLucia? He looked away, like the next sentence tasted like poison.
I lost patience. “Speak.”
“She’s run off with Tony. According to the letter, this has nothing to do with Emily.”
He didn’t dare meet my eyes.
I didn’t even realize I was clenching my jaw until the pain started radiating up the side of my head. My men were watching. They all knew. So this was Tony’s brilliant plan. Fuck my woman behind my back, disgrace me in front of my own men, make me look like a fool who couldn’t even keep his own wife in check. A king stripped bare in his own court.
And Lucia, the one who played saint, turned out to be a traitorous whore. As for Emily, she’d better pray to whatever god she believed in that she had nothing to do with this. If she did, no one would be able to save her.
Lorenzo cleared his throat beside me. “Giuseppe wants to interrogate the girl.”
“If anyone lays a finger on that girl before I do, I’ll burn them alive by morning. Make sure Giuseppe and his men get the message.” My voice was low but lethal.
Lorenzo moved to make the call.
That’s when my phone rang. Maxim. I answered, and before I could say a word, his voice came through. “Emily is Sophia’s daughter.”
The shocks just kept coming tonight. “But Sophia died in that car crash.”
“No, man. She didn’t. I’m on my way back now. I’ll explain everything when I get there.”
I don’t even remember hanging up. I walked out and got in the car, ignoring Lorenzo shouting behind me. Tony and Giuseppe knew. They knew all along.
This wasn’t about Emily at all. This was about reopening old wounds, wounds left by a traitor in my bloodline. They thought they could use her against me. To embarrass me. Undermine me. Break me.
They forgot who I was. They forgot why my name was spoken in whispers. Why men crossed themselves when I walked by. Why no one who challenged my rule ever lived long enough to tell the story. Tonight, they’d remember.
And Emily? As of tonight, she belonged to me. And she would never leave my territory. Not now. Not ever.
