That fucking bastard.
“You’re looking at the new king.” He laughs.
“No, you’re not a king. You’re a fucking coward. A gambler who bets with other people’s lives when you don’t have the courage to pay your own debts.”
Pride blooms in my chest as the conversation progresses. My wife was giving that bastard a piece of her mind, and fuck did I enjoy every bit of it.
The recording comes to an end, and silence swallows the room. All eyes are on the general who looks confused, but mine are on Bella. She didn’t have to, but she came back…for me.
“What the fuck is going on!” The general rages and closes the distance between us, leveling the barrel of the gun under my chin. “How do I know this is not another piece of fabricated evidence?”
My breath hardens, but before I talk, Bella beats me to it. “It’s not, Mr.…General Malik. That bastard, my own father, kidnapped my sister and locked her in some psychiatric ward for months.” Her voice hardens as she talks. “He kidnapped me, too, and I only just escaped. Trust me, I wouldn’t put my own life at risk, run into battle like a crazed person just to lie to a man like you.”
The room is silent except for the general’s hard breathing. He looks lost…like he doesn’t even know who Dean Rossi is.
“I’ve come this far in battle, Malik,” I say firmly, locking eyes with him. “I had the chance to kill you, but I didn’t. A guilty man wouldn’t do that.”
Tension rises in the room, and I become increasingly aware of the sound of gunshots below. The battle is still on.
Suddenly, someone coughs and drops to his knees. I look over to see Marcus with an angry Matteo fisting his hair. “Confess,” is all Matteo says. He must’ve gone to fetch him.
“I—the video was fake. I was coerced into doing it by…by Dean Rossi.”
The general’s expression hardens as he glances between Bella, Matteo, and me. He cocks his gun against my throat, Matteo cocks his at the general, and one of the General’s men mimics the same to Matteo.
Bella gasps, a sharp sound that forces all of the men’s attention to her, including mine. She shakes her head, releasing a sigh before training her gaze on the general.
“I know you’re angry and want revenge.” Her voice is cool, but I notice the edge of desperation in it. “And maybe pinning it on just anyone is easier right now. But when all of this is done, what’ll hit you worse is knowing that the real culprit behind your son’s death is still out there living freely. So please, make the right choice now. Get true justice for your son.”
The General grits and finally eases his gun away from my neck as he turns to the man beside him. “Tell our men to stand down. Moretti isn’t the one.”
Then he turns back to me. “I’m afraid it’s not over yet. Somewhere mid-battle, a team planted three bombs in three of your major warehouses. With a deliberately sabotaged initiator, they’re un-detonatable…”
My fist clenches. Fucking bastard made sure we wouldn’t be able to detonate them in time, even if we found a specialist.
“Find me whoever this bastard is that killed my son, or I’ll dismantle your whole empire, piece by piece, until there is nothing left. You have forty-eight hours.”
Chapter twenty-nine
Isabella
My hands shake as I press the sterile towel against his shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. He doesn’t wince…his bare chest is warm and still beneath my fingers, but I feel his eyes boring holes in my head.
After Malik and his men left, I told Matteo all I knew about Father’s location and offered to get Dominic’s stab wound cleaned up… so here we are in his bathroom with him on the countertop as I stand between his strong thighs.
I can’t help but think how quickly the tables have turned. A short time ago,Iwas the injured one.
My throat tightens as I pull the towel back and observe the wound better. The gash is deep and ugly, running jaggedly below his collarbone, but I don’t think the knife hit anything vital.Reaching for a bottle of antiseptic, I pour it onto a fresh gauze and hold it firmly against his skin.
His breathing grows heavy, eyes still trained on me, but he says nothing. That makes my breath hitch and my hands a little uncoordinated, so I distract myself with thoughts. Thoughts of what might have happened to Dominic if we hadn’t escaped.
I tape down the gauze and pull out a bandage, sealing the wound. A slow breath pulls from my lips as I step back, but a hand spreads across my lower back, holding me in place.
For the first time, since dressing his wound, I meet his eyes, and my breath hitches at the rawness in them. I’ve never seen him like this…so vulnerable.
“Thank you,” he breathes. Somehow, I know he’s thanking me for more than dressing his wound.
“You… had no reason to come back after I accused you, yet you did.” He sighs and trails his hand from the small of my back up my side and settles it on my neck. Brushing my neck with the pad of his thumb once, he whispers thickly, “I’m sorry for ever doubting you and I…”
