Page 169 of Bleed with Me

“Speak, Lucas,” he said, rubbing his tired eyes.

“I found her,” he yelled. “You won’t believe it.”

He rambled about his finding, something about the cameras, blind spots, timelines, and routes, but I only heard two isolated sentences:

He had found her.

The Valentino estate.

-67-

Nina

My father had completely lost his fucking mind. That was the only explanation for the shitshow he created. Only a madman would call this survival!

But let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

I had lived in my grandfather’s mansion since my dad found out about me. He often acted like an ass, but he wouldn’t allow his child to live in poverty. His wife, on the other hand, refused to have a bastard under her roof, so Grandpa took me in without hesitation. I knew every inch of this three-story Victorian mansion. Every secret hall. Every hidden passage. I could escape whenever I wanted and return unnoticed.

Grandpa knew I used his information to my advantage, but he waved it off when his guards told him about it. He gave me as much freedom as he could before he started to drill mafia rules and responsibilities into me. I was his favorite project, and I believed he truly cared for me. He fucked up many times, yes, but when I needed him, he was always there, ready to wipe everyone out.

If he were alive, Sonny wouldn’t dare put a hand on me, and this circus would’ve never happened.

Anyway, I knew my grandpa wasn’t a saint. His men brought me to watch an execution of a traitor so that I understood the world I lived in. I sat at the table when he negotiated with Americans to steal money from Zyon. His deal with Chester was abhorrent, using his wife and kid as leverage against Zyon. I overheard a plan to hurt Amelia Santangelo, and I argued with him like crazy because the Zhumagulovs were one thing. They weren’t our people. They weren’t even our allies. But the Santangelo family? Grandpa crossed the line and completely stopped caring about who got caught in the crossfire.

Looking back, the signs had always been there. I just refused to see them because admitting the truth meant admitting Grandpa stopped being the man who raised me. He desperately needed money, and anyone who stood in his way was doomed.

The same was true of my father now. He’d stop at nothing to marry me to that bastard Sonny. But why?

The mattress sank beneath me when the man I’d never seen before threw me onto the bed like a rag doll. It was the fourth time I tried to escape, and Dad’s new minions caught me. It was impossible. I used passages no one should’ve known existed. Yet they intercepted me every single time. They knew exactly where every hidden corridor led.

“I’ll try again.” I lifted my chin in defiance, glaring at the man who had slapped me before.

“And I’ll bring you back again,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Do they pay you enough for the trouble?” I pointed at the massive dark circle on his cheek. He also sported a split lip and bite marks on his neck and the back of his hand.

“Don’t push me, pretty face,” he snarled.

“Why not?” I smiled sweetly. “Must be frustrating getting beaten by someone you’re forbidden to touch.”

His thin lips twisted, and he looked as if he fought himself not to punch me. I laughed more just to provoke the shit out of the bastard when the door opened, and in that split second when my eyes landed on the familiar scarred face with a typical lethal expression, I understood why all my attempts failed.

Dino Monteverde, my grandfather’s most loyal lapdog.

He knew this house maybe even better than I did. After his parents died in a fire, he lived here until Grandpa sent him to Europe, where he built a name and reputation as a ruthless mercenary who made the impossible happen. The only man who had ever survived him was Zyon Zhumagulov. Everyone else became a story people only whispered about.

“Still causing trouble, piccola,” Dino said in his usual profound lecturing voice. “Giovanni wouldn’t be pleased.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, ignoring his remark.

“I came for your wedding.” He smiled in that crooked way that made my stomach twist with dread. The scar through his lips was from a fight when he saved my dad’s life. “Did you think I’d miss it?”

“You did miss it.” I stood from the bed, watching his every move. My instincts were on full alert at the mere sight of his intimidating presence. At six foot five, with the reflexes of a cat and decades of killing behind him, he was almost impossible to beat one-on-one.

“You’re getting married today,” he said, but his brows furrowed. Over the years, he learned that I didn’t bullshit around.

“No, monstro.” I shook my head, and normally I would’ve smiled, but telling him this was dangerous. “I got married a few weeks ago.”