I floor it, trying to put as much distance as possible between the building and me.
When I look up at the rearview mirror, there’s no one following me anymore.
I got away.
I survived.
I step on the pedal nonetheless, driving like a maniac. Aimlessly until I see the sign pointing to Palermo.
Then I am reminded of Mateo’s last word.
Damiano.
Did he want me to go to him?
Or did he mean run away from him?
Only one way to find out
Chapter 6
Damiano
Pacing the VVIP section of my new club, I tap Katarina’s name on the screen for the 15th time. She isn’t answering my calls, and the radio silence is really getting under my skin.
Earlier, I made sure Alfonso wouldn’t be able to contact her for a while by having Gio "accidentally" take his phone away as he was leaving my club. That should have given me time. Enough time to lure her to my club so I can keep her in my sight. At least until Nicolo’s shipment is sent.
This was the only way I could keep her close without alarming Mateo, who would undoubtedly go berserk if he heard about my suspicions. I can’t allow him to start a war with the Mafia that he cannot win. I’m not even sure they are really after Katarina yet. Until Gio’s guy in Sicily can dig deeper into the fucker’s phone’s contents and confirm my suspicions, I need to be careful. If I make the wrong move, they will scatter like rats. If I move right, I can keep Katarina safe and catch Nicolo doing business where he isn’t supposed to.
I disconnect the call when she doesn’t answer again. I check my voicemails just in case she left one. But I see one from Mateo instead. I frown. Mateo never leaves me voice messages. I hit play.
His familiar voice cuts through the muffled bass of the club, ragged with what sounds like a suppressed gasp of pain.
"Take care of her, Damiano. Keep her safe," he says before the line cuts dead.
His words hit me like a splash of cold water, and the realization washes over me. I failed to keep her safe; they got to them.
I shove the phone back into my pocket, the cold certainty of Mateo's message settling in my gut, followed by guilt and hot rage.
I should have just put a bullet in that son of a bitch hours ago.
“Gio, get the car! I have to find Katarina!” I yell at Gio as I make my way to my office, where the private elevator that will take me to the garage is.
Gio follows me, confused, and asks, “What is happening?”
“They got to them. I have to find Katarina.”
I push the door to my office open and walk in, take my jacket from the rack, and turn towards the elevator.
That’s when I feel it.
The cold metal makes contact at the lower back of my head.
Someone’s gun is pointed at me.
“Put the gun down!” Gio yells, and I freeze. The culprit does not respond.
“Who sent you?” I ask calmly, still not able to see whose idiot has his gun pointed at me while my bodyguard is watching.
