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“Velvet curtains…marble floors. Instead, you’re hiding down here with rats and your sad little punching bag.” She wrinkles her nose at the heavy bag in the corner that hangs from slightly squeaking chains. “No windows. No art. Christ, Enzo. Even the mattress is practically on the floor.”

My jaw tightens. “How’d you even get in?”

She gives me that grin that suggests she’s two steps ahead. “Please. I grew up in this villa and still live here. There’s not a lock in this house that doesn’t remember me.”

She sashays over to what passes for a kitchen, tapping the chipped counters as if she’s playing house. The kettle squeals. She fumbles, swears under her breath, then jerks back when the water scalds her. Before I even think about it, I’m grabbing her wrist. Old habits, right? Protecting people who probably don’t deserve such care.

Her eyes gleam. She looks downright smug. “So, you do care.” She leans too close, her perfume clouding the air.

A growl escapes me. I push her hand away and spit out, “Don’t kid yourself. Reflexes, not feelings. There’s nothing left here, Izzy.”

Her gaze shifts and sharpens. “Then who is it?” She damn near hisses. “Who’s got you so whipped that you’d rather hole up here than touch me?”

She has to know.

But I must be exceptionally careful with this test. Izzy Benedetti is not a lady to be trifled with, and whoever said, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” might have perfectly summed up the ferocity of my ex-lover.

“I’m not ready to play your games, Izzy.”

She releases a humorless laugh. “Figures…you’d rather play with another woman now that you’re bored with me.”

My words come out like knives. “Would Gabi like knowing his right-hand girl’s sneaking off to the beds of his potential enemies?”

She straightens her spine, her nostrils flaring. “You don’t want to talk about her, do you? About the way Sophia Martinelli’s captured your attention. A part of me wants to see how this plays out tomorrow when you find out she’s in the hands of the Bratva.”

Every part of me goes rigid, and I could swear time itself stops.

“What did you just say?”

Izzy’s smile is all teeth. “Eavesdropped. Gabi’s reaching out to the Volkov Bratva today. He’s dangling her like bait.”

Blood pounds in my ears as I snap. I yank on my shirt, jacket, and boots, and stride toward the door. Izzy screeches after me, but honestly, she’s a tornado I don’t have time for.

My pace picks up from quick strides into light jogs as I go up the villa’s grand staircase and past fancy floors toward the only place I know Gabi will be waiting this morning. When I walk into the room, the Benedetti family crest on his finger winks up at me. The sight makes me want to spit.

Gabi lounges at the head of the table, swinging his whiskey. The watchdogs, Vito and Rocco, hover by his side. I get it. I’m supposed to play along. But not today.

I don’t bother with pleasantries. “Tell me it isn’t true.”

Of course, he grins. Smug bastard had to know I would find out. “It’s true. She’ll be with the Bratva by tomorrow.”

My teeth grind to dust. “She’s not a pawn. You don’t just give up your leverage.” My voice comes out like gravel.

Rocco snickers. “Leverage or something more, Enzo? You got a soft spot for the schoolteacher?”

“Maybe our Enzo prefers a warm bed to a clean job.” Vito cracks up, loud as always. His irritating laughter clangs against the high ceilings.

I could kill them here. God knows I want to, and it would be so easy.

But Gabi catches my attention, his eyes bright and daring. If I do this, I start an all-out war. Even the dons on my side will consider the act reckless, especially when they learn it’s to protect a prisoner.

“They mentioned your softness.” The word rings out like an accusation. “Go on, deny it. Tell me you don’t care. Prove you’re still the same blade my old man left me.”

Everything goes razor sharp. My fists knot so tightly, my nails dig into my flesh. Funny how quickly loyalty morphs into chains. One wrong move, and I might never break free.

“She’s a bargaining chip.” I step forward. “Kill her or trade her too soon, and you waste power.”

Gabi waves a dismissive hand. “Decision’s final.” He rises. Vito and Rocco flank him, their laughter trailing like a taunt. “You’ll be the one to hand her over. Consider it a show of loyalty.”