“We’ll get her back,” I promised him and he looked up at me almost as if he’d understood.
A car horn started honking and I looked up at the man who dared to try and make me move out of the road for him.
I strode straight towards his white pickup, my dark gaze pinned on the asshole behind the wheel.
His eyes widened with panic as he took in the full force of my rage.
I roared in challenge, swinging both of my arms above my head and slamming my fists down on the hood of his truck.
The hood crumpled beneath the force of my attack, two huge dents forming beneath my arms.
“Nicoli!” Giuseppe’s demanding voice sounded behind me and I spun away from the man I’d been moments from ripping apart as I spotted my boss looking out at me from the rear window of a large, black Bently. “Get in,” he snapped and I fell to heel instantly.
I scooped Coco into my arms and wrenched the car door open before falling into the seat opposite my boss.
“She’s gone,” I stated hollowly as if he couldn’t tell.
“Then you’re just going to have to get her back, aren’t you?” he snarled, the venom in his voice making it seem like he was somehow holding me to blame for this disaster.
“Yes, boss,” I agreed, hanging my head in shame as Coco growled beside me.
“Clean that fucking head wound,” Giuseppe added irritably as the driver took off. “You’re bleeding all over the upholstery.”
I tugged the buttons of my shirt open and yanked it off of me, balling it up so that I could stem the blood which still poured down my face.
We pulled up outside Doc Dariello’s and I followed Giuseppe as he got out.
Coco leapt from the car behind me, staying close to my heels and I glanced at the little dog in surprise, united with him in our desire to return Sloan to her rightful place at my side.
We headed straight through to the back room of the clinic and I took a seat on the paper-covered bed as Giuseppe pointed me towards it.
“I should be out there tracking her down,” I protested, though I didn’t make any move to go against him without his permission on the subject.
“Yes, you should be,” Giuseppe growled. “But if you collapse and bleed out in the street, you’ll be no good to anyone.”
My heart twitched at that declaration. The fact that we were here made me think he must care about me. Even just a little. More than just for what I could do for him.
Though I’d been welcomed into the Calabresi household when I was a boy, earning a place in Giuseppe’s heart had always felt out of reach. He’d sharpened me into a tool. Honed me into a man not to be trifled with, but there was little place amongst that for anything so simple as love. He just wasn’t the kind for declarations and shows of emotion, but at times like this, I wondered if I’d done enough to secure my place at his side or not.
The doctor walked in, eying my wounds without making comment.
I dropped the shirt from my head and sat still as he set to work cleaning it.
“I have every one of my men scouring the city for leads,” Giuseppe said darkly. “They’ll find her. But I want you hunting too. You do anything and everything it takes to get her back. You hear me?”
“Yes, boss,” I agreed. I’d tear this city apart until I found her. No one stole what was mine and got away with it.
“Good. And once you’ve got her, you kill those fucking Romeros. You do it slow and you make sure the pieces are left for the cops. I want everyone in the city to know precisely what happens to a man who crosses Giuseppe Calabresi.”
“I’ll tear them limb from limb,” I snarled, violence calling to me like an old friend.
The doctor started stitching and I gritted my teeth against the pain.
“You will,” Giuseppe agreed fiercely. “Because if you don’t do this, you’re no heir of mine. So I don’t want you to eat, sleep or even take a shit between now and when you find my daughter. This is all you live for now. And if you can’t get the job done, I might as well cut your throat myself.”
“Understood,” I growled.
I didn’t need the threat of his rage to urge me into action though. The moment the doctor was done stitching my head back together, I’d be back out on the streets. I’d rip open every door, search every alley and kill every fucking Romero I discovered hiding in the gutters until I found her.
I wouldn’t stop. I wouldn’t rest.
Sloan Calabresi was mine. And I’d die before I gave up on her.
Oh my god. I’ve been kidnapped - fucking kidnapped!
I must have been in the trunk for hours and I hadn’t stopped screaming. I thumped and kicked the walls, the seat, bashing at everything I could find until my arms and legs were bruised as hell.
Panic crashed through me in the dark as I tried to think of a way out. Anything I could do at all, but I was trapped, the walls seeming to press in on me and the air seeming too thin to inhale.
When we started bouncing along a dirt track, fear stole my breath and sent images flashing through my brain of what might be about to happen.
They’ve taken me to the woods. They’re gonna drag me out of the trunk, kill me and bury me in the ground or dump me in a lake.
It was the middle of winter so the ground would be frozen solid. But they could drill a hole in the ice of a lake…drop me through it dead or alive. Either way I wasn’t coming back.
Stop it Sloan! Find a way out before that happens!
I was jostled around, hitting my head, disorientated as I tried to brace myself against the roof. I’d hunted every single inch of the trunk and even torn up the carpet in hopes of finding a tyre iron or something I could use as a weapon, but there was nothing there. Nothing but what I had on me. Just a huge damn dress and-
With a jolt, I kicked off my shoes and snatched one firmly in my grasp. It wasn’t much against a gun, but maybe all I needed was a chance to run, to scream, for someone to hear me. Someone who could help.
The car rolled to a halt, sending another flash of terror through my body.
I tried to recall everything Royce had taught me about self-defence, steadying my breathing as best I could and focusing on the task. But nothing could relax me about being at the mercy of Rocco Romero again. I was terrified to face him. I could almost feel his hands around my throat and a tremor ran through me. For the sake of the sixteen year old girl who’d almost died once because of that monster, I was going to fight him with everything I had. I wouldn’t go down easy. But there were three of them and no doubt they were armed too.
Shit shit shit.
Heavy footsteps drew my way and my throat closed up as I clutched the high heel in my hand, ready to launch myself out the second I was free.
A beat of silence passed and the wind howled beyond the car like a wailing ghoul.
The trunk popped. My heart juddered. I leapt up with all my might, screaming in defiance.
I slammed into a hard body and smashed the heel of my shoe against his head again and again.
Huge hands caught my wrists and as the trunk shut behind me, my captor slammed me up against the car, prising the shoe from my hand.
“Fuck,” he snarled as blood poured down his brow.
Rocco Romero was as terrifying as the first day I’d met him. His hardened gaze peeled me apart as he clamped my hands together in one of his then dragged me back upright. My bare feet sunk into snow but I couldn’t feel the cold as adrenaline swept through my veins. I tugged desperately at my wrists as he turned me around and I found his two brothers standing further up the drive, watching us.
Frankie Romero, the younger one with floppy black hair, looked on the verge of laughing while the other one with his piercing eyes and dark top knot was nursing a gunshot wound to his arm, staring at me like I’d shot him. That one was Enzo, I guessed. His brutal reputation preceded him, but of all the Romeros, none scared me in the way that Rocco did.
A huge manor house sat up on the hill in a nest of trees, covered in snow. T
he wooden walls reached high up toward the sky, casting an imposing shadow across the ground. The windows reflected the white of the snow and the hills surrounding this entire valley. I didn’t know where we were, but I committed it all to memory. We had to have travelled north into the mountains, but the fact that they were letting me see this place at all could only mean one thing: they were going to kill me.
Rocco shoved me along, but I dug my heels in, wriggling and fighting in a furious bid to get free. I used every move Royce had ever taught me, but Rocco was well trained and had at least three times the amount of muscle I had, if not more.
“Enough,” Rocco commanded, but hell did I listen. I swung around and bit into the arm of his leather jacket as deeply as I could. Rocco flipped me off of the ground, tossing me over his shoulder and locking his arms around my legs with a huff of frustration. My wedding dress flipped over my head and I screamed in fury as I fought to escape the folds of netting to land a punch on his back.
He carried me along until the sound of a door opening reached me then I was dumped onto a hardwood floor. I shoved the skirt of my wedding dress down so I could see, my hair tumbling around my shoulders in a mess. Rocco kicked the door shut and darkness fell. I shuddered as I found myself at the heart of the three men in a vast entrance hall, moving close to form a triangle around me.
“What are we gonna do with her?” Frankie looked to Rocco for direction.
“We could cut off little pieces one by one,” Enzo said with excitement in his eyes.
“No,” I gasped.
“Go get that bullet out your arm for a start, fratello,” Rocco ordered. He was the eldest of the three so I guessed he was in charge.
Enzo sighed and walked away, clutching his arm which was tied with a tourniquet. I scrambled forward into the space he vacated, launching myself to my feet and trying to bolt. Rocco’s arms closed around my waist and he yanked me back against him, sliding his hand up to grip my throat.
I froze, terror gripping my heart as his hand squeezed threateningly.
“We’ll put her in the cellar,” he decided and a murmur of fear escaped me.
Frankie nodded, looking slightly out of his depth as he hurried off to open a black door beneath the huge staircase at the centre of the hall. Rocco guided me forward and a sheer will to survive flooded me. I elbowed and kicked and screamed, praying there was a neighbour nearby who might hear.
Rocco’s hand slammed over my mouth and a tear escaped my eye. His mouth dropped to my ear, his rough stubble biting into my cheek. “No one can hear you, you’re miles away from anywhere but you’re really giving me a fucking headache. So shut the hell up.”
I nodded, reaching my hand back as Royce had taught me once, gently feeling if he had a gun holstered on his hip that I could get to. My fingers grazed his belt and Rocco chuckled in my ear.
“Are you looking for a gun or for my cock, principessa? Because neither will do you any good right now.”
I couldn’t answer beneath his hand, but I could bite. And I did. As hard as I freaking could.
Rocco growled in my ear as I tasted blood, dropping his hand as he shoved me through the cellar door. Frankie was still looking wide-eyed and I turned to him for help, praying he might have a bout of conscience.
“Please!” I begged of him. “Please don’t let him do this.”
Frankie rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at Rocco. He didn’t answer, but maybe for a second it looked like he cared.
“Please!” I screamed at him as Rocco manhandled me down the staircase.
At the bottom, he shoved me to my knees and the cold stone bit into my skin. I gasped as I braced myself on the floor and my dark hair fell around me in a curtain. This was it. He was going to finish me now, in some dank cellar with no dignity. Then he’d put me somewhere no one would ever find me, my body left to rot.
The sound of the door slamming and a lock clicking made all of the air leave my lungs in a wave. I turned to look behind me and a ragged breath ripped free of my chest.
He was gone.
I sagged forward, bracing myself on the ground and letting a few tears fall as relief and fear mashed together inside me.
I’m not dead yet. Which means they want me for something.
Either that, or Rocco is just fetching tools to do the job.
I gagged on the bile building in my throat then shakily got to my feet. It was almost as cold as the wintry air outside down here and it was entirely dark. I hunted for a wall, running my hand along it in a desperate search for a light switch. The rough stone rubbed against my palm as I hunted and hunted.
My fingers finally met a switch and I flicked it on, illuminating a large wine cellar full of racks of bottles and rows of huge barrels. I hurried forward, reaching for one of the bottles, but the door sounded before I grabbed it and I placed my back to the rack instead, my fingers locking around the neck of one of the bottles in preparation.
A bucket was tossed into the cellar, bouncing down the steps with a series of metallic clangs. Rocco’s shadow fell over the room, looking huge as he blocked the light at the top of the stairs. “You can piss and shit in there. You eat what we give you and you never set a fucking foot on these stairs. If you try to escape, I’ll kill you.” The door slammed and my heart lurched in time with it.
I released my grip on the bottle, eyeing the bucket with disgust.
What do they want from me?
I shivered in the freezing air, wrapping my arms around myself, wondering how long they were going to keep me down here. I’d get hypothermia within a day. And I’d die of humiliation if I used that bucket.
I collected my fears and stuffed them as deep down inside of me as I could.
What would Royce tell me to do?
With a slow breath, I started moving through the room methodically, hunting for anything that might be of use to me. I could use a wine bottle as a weapon, but I’d only get one shot at it. And if they carried guns on them, I might not get close enough…
I moved around the walls, looking for a door, a vent, a window at the top, but I found nothing, my hope failing by the second.
Think, Sloan, think.
I soon gave up my search, sitting down with two wine bottles hidden beneath the folds of my dress and another beside me in easy reaching distance. I couldn’t believe that mere hours ago I’d sat in my bedroom getting ready for my wedding day, thinking marrying Nicoli was the worst fate I could face.
This was far worse than that. I’d been placed straight into the hands of three devils, one of whom had tried to kill me before. Would he finish the job this time? The bucket told me I was safe for a while longer. But maybe they were going to torture me first. Maybe they thought I had information on my father. But Papa never told me anything and even if he had, I’d never give it up to the likes of the Romeros.
Dark thoughts flickered through my mind and I made the quiet but resolute decision to try and escape. Whatever it took, no matter the cost. I would get out of here. I just needed a plan, something to give me a chance to run. Then I’d find my way to the nearest neighbour. I’d run as fast as I could and never stop until I found someone, anyone. But the beautiful dreams of the outside world were crushed away by the reality of the cellar staring back at me.
I still had one advantage. They hadn’t tied me up. So the next time that door opened, I needed to be ready to run.
I strode away from the cellar door, my feet thumping across the hardwood floorboards in the hallway as I headed to the living room.
I pushed the door wide and found Frankie building a fire in the hearth while Enzo sat cursing beneath his breath over the bullet wound on his arm.
The room was at the east end of the house and had been built with the height of two floors. Enormous floor length windows sat at the farthest end of the room, filling the entire wall there and looking out over the mountains and forest beyond.
There was a wooden balcony above us and a small, curving staircase led up to it and into t
he master bedroom where I slept when we stayed here.
The room was full of comfortable furniture and soft rugs in pale colours to contrast the dark wood of the room itself. Papa said this was Mamma’s favourite place in the whole world, but since she’d been killed when we were children, he didn’t like coming up here often. It had become something of a retreat for me and my brothers, somewhere we’d come to think of as our own. And though I’d never said as much out loud, being here made me feel closer to Mamma.
I was the only one of us who truly remembered her. I’d been six when she was killed. The Calabresis had broken into one of our houses in the city while Papa was away on business. Our brother, Angelo, had come down with a fever and she’d sent me, Enzo and Frankie to stay with our Nonna so that we didn’t catch it too. That was the only reason the three of us were still alive.
The Calabresis had come to our home that night and burned the house to the ground with the two of them inside it. I’d lost my Mamma and my closest brother in one night. And our Papa had never been the same again. Angelo had been four when he died. Enzo was two and Frankie just a baby. Neither of them remembered it, but they’d certainly felt the hole left in our home by the people who were torn from it.
We’d been brought up by various nannies after that and moulded into cold men by the rage and loss our father had been left with the day they’d died.
It was why we fought so hard to tear this city away from the clutches of the Calabresis. And why I’d never stop fighting until Giuseppe Calabresi lay dead at my feet.
Before doing anything else, I pulled my phone from my pocket and set some music playing over the speakers which ran through the house, cranking the volume up to be sure our new house guest would hear it.
Rupert Holmes sang Escape (The Pina Colada Song) and I smiled to myself as I shrugged out of my leather jacket, letting it fall to the floor and closed my eyes, tipping my head back to the ceiling as I danced. I sang the lyrics at the top of my lungs as I pulled off my bloodstained white T-shirt and my brothers rolled their eyes at me while trying their damn hardest not to join in.
Beautiful Carnage: A Dark Mafia Bully Romance (The Boys of Sinners Bay Book 1) Page 4