by Bella J.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I wiped my palms down my face. This wasn’t happening. “Who the fuck took those pictures?”
“We don’t know,” Kate said softly. “Our father didn’t say. He just said Layla needed to steer clear of you, and that she was in danger as long as she was with you.”
I got up and started pacing. It was like goddamn information overload. Pieces of a giant puzzle raining down, and I had no clue where to fucking start to put it all together.
“She was scared, Dante. She didn’t know what to do.” Kate appealed for her sister’s actions. “She was young, pregnant, and just found out the father of her child was a part of a crime family selling drugs.”
My dad jumped up. “I can assure you, Miss Moore, we do not sell drugs.”
She hung her head. “We know that…now.”
“There’s something else, Dante.”
My gaze cut to Antonio.
“It’s about Layla.”
“What is it?”
Antonio and Kate gave each other knowing looks, and I clenched my fists. I hated that it seemed like everyone was in the loop except me.
“You were right. Matteo is controlling her, using her to get to you.”
I pulled my hand through my hair. “And?”
Antonio took a deep breath, and I knew whatever was about to come out of his mouth had the potential to shock me to my core.
“Four months ago, Matteo kidnapped her and her—your son.”
My temper rose.
“While he held her…” Antonio swallowed as if the words struggled to come out.
“Well?” I grew impatient. “Spit it out!”
“While Matteo held her…he also got her addicted to heroin.”
My heart stopped. No, it exploded, and I felt the blast straight through to every bone in my fucking body. “What?”
Kate stood. “My sister is an addict, Dante. He forced her to take the drugs so he could control her.”
For a few seconds, I allowed the words to sink in. I allowed it to settle in the pit of my stomach, to stew with the rage I had been feeling all morning. And then I grabbed the first thing I could find, a glass decanter, and threw it against the wall. The sound of my scream together with the shattering glass hit the roof with excruciating resonance.
“Dante, you need to calm down.”
I shot a warning glare at my brother. “Do not tell me to calm down. I have a fucking four-year-old son I never knew about. And now you’re telling me my woman—my son’s mother—is a junkie because Matteo fucking Mancuso forced her to use. I’m going to kill him.”
Antonio held out his hand, visually suggesting I calm down. “Just listen to everything we have to say first.”
I lifted a brow in disbelief. “There’s more?”
“A lot more.”
“Fuck,” I muttered then sat back down. My body suddenly felt drained of all life.
Kate looked at Antonio before he gestured for her to go ahead. “Layla refused to cooperate with Matteo while he had Rafe. She refused to ask for a hit, and Matteo had to force her every time. So she made a deal with him.”
A chill ran down my spine. “What deal?”
Kate struggled to talk, so Antonio continued. “That she would remain using on her own if he lets Rafe live with Kate. Layla would not attempt to leave. She would not attempt to tell you anything about their plan if Matteo gave his word that Junior would go free. Matteo agreed.”
I snorted. “And she actually thought Matteo’s word meant anything?"
“No. She didn’t.”
“That’s why she brought him to me,” Kate said. “She brought Rafe to me with strict orders to take him somewhere and not to tell her where.”
Lucio handed me a full glass of bourbon over my shoulder, which I took and gulped down like it was manna from Heaven. “So,” I swallowed the sting of the alcohol, “where did you take him?”
Kate looked at Lucio. “Could I have one too?”
Lucio’s eyebrows almost reached his hairline.
Kate shrugged. “If anyone needs hard liquor right now, it’s me.”
I nodded when Lucio glanced my way and waited patiently for him to hand her the drink before pushing for more answers. “Where did you take him, Kate?”
She cringed after taking a sip of the bourbon. “I know someone who works at a children’s home. He agreed to take Rafe in under an alias.”
I had to give it to the woman. She was quite smart in all of this.
“Okay, so,” I placed my glass down on the table, “I have about a thousand different questions right now, but time is running out, and there will be more than enough time for all the answers once I get Layla back.”
Antonio’s eyebrows slanted inward, staring at me in disbelief. “You have a child, Dante. A son. Surely you want to address that first.”
I stood and straightened my shoulders. “Does he know who I am? That I’m his father?”
Antonio and Kate looked at each other before Kate shook her head.
“Good.” I straightened my jacket. “Then Layla and I can tell him together…after I go get her.”
“Dante, wait.” Antonio rushed toward me and grabbed my elbow.
I jerked out of his hold. “No! I am fucking done waiting. Yes, I know I have a son. Yes, I know this shit is deeper than I ever could have imagined. But right now, the only thing that matters is getting Layla back. Once she’s here, I’ll deal with everything else. Even though there’s a fuck-load of people in this room who think they know everything, that they know all the answers, you don’t. The only person who can give me the answers I need is Layla, and I’m going to get her. Now.”
The gloomy, sullen look on his face, which usually only showed extreme confidence, sent a feeling of unease straight down my spine, settling in my gut. “What are you not telling me?”
He glanced at Kate as if she had to give him permission to answer.
I grabbed his shoulders, fed up with having to fucking drag every goddamn answer out of the lot of them. “What the fuck are you not telling me?”
“The drugs, Dante. Layla is convinced she’s beyond help.”
I took a step back. “What does that mean?”
“She thinks the only way for Matteo to stop with his vendetta against you is if she was no longer a weapon he could use.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
Antonio didn’t answer. He just looked at me, knowing his silence was answer enough. I heard Kate suck in a breath, Lucio and my father cursing in the background. But I only had one thought, one action, one reality…I was going to kill my brother.
Anger grabbed hold of every bone, rage flooding through my veins like a toxin. It was unstoppable, my wrath. The need to tear human flesh the fuck apart. All I saw was her face, red slowly moving down and clouding my vision, my fists clenched and ready to destroy.
I swung my arm, sweeping it through the air just before my knuckles connected against bone. My brother’s head snapped to the side, the entire scene playing off in slow motion. Blood from his mouth splattered against the wall, the ringing in my ears blocking out every other sound.
Antonio had sent Layla back to Matteo, back to the devil who forced the poison through her veins. And for that, he had to die. My brother, my blood needed to pay for taking her away from me. For sending her to her ultimate demise.
I pulled my arm back, the bones in my hand screaming with an ache to destroy. But someone grabbed my shoulder while two more arms wrapped around my waist, dragging me backward. Slowly, the sound of reality returned, and I heard Lucio’s voice.
“Stop! Dante, stop.”
But all I saw was Antonio’s blood, and I wanted more. My anger demanded it.
“Dante!” This time it was my dad. “Stop this, for God’s sake.” His voice lacked the confidence it always carried. He was pleading, begging. “Dante, he is your brother.”
I froze, no longer fighting against the arms that kept me
back. The sound of my own heartbeat echoed between my ears, the red in my vision slowly subsiding. But my fury was still red hot.
Lucio let go when I stilled, my deathly stare still pinned on Antonio nursing a bleeding lip. “I will never forgive you for this. Do you hear me? Never.”
My dad stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the brother I now hated with every breath I took.
“Son, listen to me. We will get her back. Remember our leverage.”
My gaze cut to my father’s. “Castello?”
“Yes. We still have the means to save her. We just need to figure out the best way to do it. But you need to calm down. If we have any chance of getting Layla back alive, you need a clear head.”
For a moment, the anger that seared the inside of my veins subsided. My dad was right. Killing my brother and losing myself to anger was not going to save Layla. It wasn’t going to help anyone.
Dad glanced over his shoulder at Antonio. “Get cleaned up, then meet us back here.” He looked at Lucio. “Go get Rafe, then show him and Kate to one of the guest bedrooms. Let them settle in. Also, make sure security is doubled around them. I have a feeling Matteo’s strategy is about to change.”
My eyebrows slanted down in question. “Why do you think that?”
“Castello already has the container, and I’m pretty sure Matteo and his father will hear about it any minute now.”
Antonio spat out a mouthful of blood. “What are we going to do?”
I rubbed the top of my fist, the flesh broken and swollen. Castello said he could only help us by containing the shipment, and that the rest was up to me. It was up to me to save her. And knowing Layla had planned to give her life to save me and our son, I had no other option than to succeed. I had to. She was no longer merely the woman I loved. Turned out she was also the mother of my child, a child I had yet to get to know. But by God, I would turn the pits of hell upside down to ensure Layla would come out of this alive.
I needed a plan. I needed a way to turn the tables, to give us control. Matteo was currently under the impression he was winning. His drug-addicted pawn had returned to him. He must have been feeling invincible as if he had the all the power. But he was wrong. He was so fucking wrong. There was no way he would win this battle—not with my woman as collateral damage.
I looked up at my father. “We need one more favor from Castello.”
Chapter 19
Layla
Matteo and I didn’t speak a word on our way back to the Mancuso mansion. It made me sick to think about it. About going back.
For the last four months, I had been held there against my will—technically. None of this was my decision. I didn’t want any of this. But my forced addiction didn’t give me any choice. Matteo dangled that needle in front of my face like a goddamn carrot to a donkey. And by the victorious smirk plastered on his face the entire time, he knew he had the upper hand.
“You knew I was with him.” I didn’t look at him.
“I did.”
“Why didn’t you come for me?”
He huffed out a laugh. “Oh, my dear Layla. I knew you’d come back.” He removed a pouch from his jacket pocket. “I have what you need.”
My heart pounded against my ribs, every vein in my body swelling, craving, burning with the need for the toxin. I licked my lips as I stared at the pouch, sweat trickling down my back. The painful stomach spasms intensified, anxiety making it increasingly difficult to breathe.
I closed my eyes, my mind a battlefield of memories, faces of those I loved, and the need to make it fade to gray as the heroin took it all away.
Focus, Layla. Think of him. Your son.
I turned my head and looked out the window. “You had the perfect opportunity with Dante taking me. In fact, it was what you waited for.”
“It was. Until I realized, why go to the enemy when the enemy will come straight to me?”
I snapped my glare in his direction. “You changed your plan?”
He tsk’d, his vile tongue echoing the sound. “You really are clueless when it comes to your beloved mafia prince.” He turned in his seat to look at me straight on. “See, I knew he still carried a torch for you, but I didn’t realize he actually still loved you that much, which is great…for me.” He reached out to touch a strand of my hair, but I jerked away.
The way he stilled, his eyes morphing instantly into orbs of anger, made me anticipate a punishment. But he took a deep breath, leaning back in his seat. “Everything is working out quite well. We’ll get rid of the Valentis one by one until there is no one left to stop us from building our fucking empire in this city.”
I bit my tongue. There were so many things I wanted to scream at him. So many insults I wanted to spit in his face. And if I was a stupid girl, I would have. But I’d learned not to taunt the devil, especially when you were sharing a corner in hell with him.
Matteo held out the pouch, smiling. I hated him. I hated him with everything I had in me. To me, he was the cruelest demon, and he was handing me poison like candy to a child.
For a few seconds, I wavered, wishing I had the willpower to refuse it. My soul shattered into a million pieces over and over and over again with every shot I accepted willingly—reluctantly.
Matteo’s eyes narrowed when he noticed my hesitation, and his glare made me slowly reach for the pouch, taking it from him.
It was another part of our deal. My full cooperation in feeding the addiction, which was already killing me slowly from the inside out, for the exclusion of my son in his little plan.
He smiled. “Good. As long as you keep using when told, I will stay true to my word as well. Rafe will remain unharmed and untouched by my vendetta against the Valentis.”
He thought I trusted in his word. That I would believe him when he said he would let my son be if I no longer fought the drugs. But I knew better. I knew his word meant nothing. Thank God Kate was clever enough to know what to do. The day I went to her, telling her about what was going on, she read between the lines, and she made sure Rafe could not be found by anyone.
But the tables had turned, and now I had to rely on Antonio to make sure my son was safe. The plan was for him to meet up with Lucio and Kate at an unknown—to me—location. I didn’t want to know anything in case Matteo thought he would be able to torture it out of me.
Then they would go for my son and take him back to the estate…to his father. After they were safe, Antonio would get the message to me.
As we drove through the gates of the Mancuso estate, I turned to look out the back window. The dark metal gates closed, but not before I saw the man wearing a red jacket walk past. The sign Antonio had said he would send me so I could know my son was safe.
I exhaled, my limbs numb with relief. Thank God everything had gone according to plan.
The Bentley drove up to the house. Where the Valenti mansion stayed true to the family’s Italian roots, the Mancuso mansion was built in a Victorian style. It was like they were trying too fucking hard. Three-story building with richly colored walls, intricate wood detailing, and the unique porte-cochère where the Bentley came to a stop.
The door opened, and as I was about to step out, Matteo grabbed my arm. His touch caused my gut to flip and my lungs to seize. Every inch of my body turned to ice.
“He will come for you, Layla. I’m sure of it. And once he does, I will kill him. I will avenge the death of my brother.”
I sucked in a breath. The hate in his eyes was toxic. I felt it penetrate my soul, the evil he exuded. The mere thought of Matteo killing Dante sliced like a blade down my spine, and I was sure I wouldn’t survive it. I hoped learning he had a son would make Dante refrain from doing something reckless—stop him from coming for me. But just in case there was a slight chance of Dante not cooperating, I had to make sure I executed my own plan as soon as possible.
We walked into the house, Matteo’s hand at the small of my back as if he had the right to touch me. As if he owned me. If only he knew how hi
s touch revolted me, how much hate I felt toward him. Hell would be too a good a place for a man like him.
My skin crawled with a burning itch. Sweat beaded on the back of my neck, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to fight it for much longer. The pouch I clutched in my hand was making it worse—the need. Knowing the cure for all the aches and chills was in that pouch intensified the hunger. But I needed to control it…just a little longer.
Just. A little. Longer.
“My father had some business to attend to at Boston Harbor.” Matteo grinned at me. “Which means we have this entire house to ourselves.”
I swallowed hard then glanced over my shoulder. “Your father’s bodyguards are still here.” Thank God.
Black, soulless eyes stared at me, the evil swirling around in his dark irises sending chills down my spine, waves of dread crashing against every bone. He took a step forward. “For the life of me, I have no idea why my father won’t let me have a little fun with you.” Closer and closer he moved, forcing me to take a step back. “I don’t see the difference whether I keep on desecrating your body with heroin, or just desecrate your body with my cock.”
“Matteo. Stop.” My voice was soft, too soft. It lacked confidence. Something I couldn’t afford when it came to him.
“Why should I stop, Layla? You’re practically mine already. Look how quickly you came back to me.” I shuddered when he dragged his knuckles down my cheek. “And I didn’t even have to lift a finger.”
“I came back because I had no choice,” I bit out between clenched teeth.
“You came back because you know I have what you need.” Fingertips traveled over my shoulder. “I know how to take care of you. Isn’t that why you came to me five years ago when you had nowhere to hide from your supposed lover?”
I snarled as he reminded me of how I had been deceived. “I only came to you because I made the mistake of trusting my father. I was desperate, and he said you could help me, make me disappear.”
A smug grin spread along his face. “And I did help you. Dante wasn’t able to find you.”