Whatever is happening outside and whatever chaos is tearing through the halls and the grounds beyond these walls, I can only begin to guess the scale of it. My mind spins through possibilities, each more horrifying than the last, none of them ending with Luca and me walking away from this untouched. The only way we survive this is if Dante finds us first. But…
A realization settles in my chest. Fear seeps deeper as a traitorous whisper slithers through my thoughts before I can stop it.
What if Dante is already dead?
The thought hits like a physical blow. My grip tightens around Luca reflexively, my fingers digging into his back as if I can shield him from that kind of fate.
No.
I shake my head sharply, forcing the thought away. I can’t afford to think like that. Not when my son’s life is hinging on his father’s survival. Dante is many things—cruel, dangerous, capable of unimaginable violence, but he is not weak. Whatever else I may believe about him, I know that one thing with absolute certainty.
If Dante Cosenza is still breathing, he will be fighting.
He has to be.
The bedroom door bursts open with a deafening crash, the sound splitting the air so violently that both Luca and I jolt in unison. A sharp breath catches in his throat, and I have to clamp my arm tighter around him to keep him quiet and not move an inch.
Heavy footsteps thunder into the room. Someone slams into the small table beside the door hard enough that the decorative pieces on top of it topple to the floor. They shatter on impact, porcelain exploding into sharp fragments that skitter across the marble.
Through the thin slats of the closet door, a beam of light cuts through the darkness. A flashlight sweeps across the room in slow arcs, illuminating the bed, the dresser, the walls in a methodical way.
The flashlight is lowered and two figures move into view.
Both men are dressed in black tactical gear. Masks are pulled up over the lower halves of their faces, leaving only their eyes visible as they scan the room. One of them carries the flashlight and the other’s hands stay close to his sides with one hand already reaching up to a bulge at his hip that looks suspiciously like the shape of a weapon.
My heart is pounding so hard, it feels like it might tear itself free of my chest.
They move deeper into the room, muttering to each other in low voices. Luca is deathly still now, fear finally overpowering his instinct to cry. His small body silently trembles against mine, his hands gripping around my wrists as his nails bite into my skin painfully.
My eyes never leave the men.
I can’t see their weapons clearly, but after the sounds outside, I know better than to believe they’re unarmed.
The taller of the two strides over to the foot of the bed and grabs the bedding in one sharp motion. He rips it off violently, sending sheets and blankets flying to the floor. Luca’s book sails through the air and lands face-down a few feet away, its bright cover stark against the stone floor.
The flashlight sweeps over the now-empty mattress.
“Where is she?” the taller man mutters, irritation creeping into his voice.
The second man turns toward him, head tilted slightly as if listening to something through an earpiece. “Intel says this is the child’s room. They should both be in here.”
“Well, they’re not fucking here,” the first snaps, gesturing to the bed.
The second man lifts a hand to his ear, pressing it as he speaks again, voice clipped. “Room is empty.” A pause. Then, firmer. “Yes. We’re in the right room.”
My pulse roars in my ears.
Why are they searching for us?For me?
The questions tumble over one another relentlessly. Are they here to take me to use me as leverage against Dante? A bargaining chip to force his hand and draw him out into the open where he can be killed? To weaken him somehow? That’s how this world works—hostages and debts paid for with bodies.
But even that doesn’t make sense. I have no value to anyone outside these walls. Not anymore. With my father having vanished off the face of the earth and his name poisoned with every other syndicate in Sicily, I’ve been stripped of any standing or protection beyond being Dante Cosenza’s unwilling bride.
Our marriage… God, it’s barely days old. Word of it couldn’t have spread that fast,could it?
This villa is locked down tighter than a fortress. Information is priceless here, guarded as fiercely as their cache. Even the staff would never talk that openly. They’re always careful of who might be listening in on their gossip. There’s no way news of our marriage—or Luca, for that matter—should have reached anyone beyond these walls. Unless someone inside let it slip for a purpose.
The thought makes my stomach twist violently.
