“I think you enjoy biting me.” He laughed like he was the one who enjoyed it then untethered me from the hose and tossed the shower head into the unit, turning off the water. He carried me soaking wet into the other room and dumped me unceremoniously onto the bed.
I stared at him, panting and shaking as blood seeped through his shirt where I’d bitten him. Triumph filled me at marking his impenetrable exterior. I’d hurt him. Even if he wouldn’t admit it. Even if he laughed through the pain. It didn’t make my victory any less real.
Rocco reached into his jeans pocket, taking out his phone and snapping a picture of me.
“This could have been a lot easier,” he mused. “But I rather enjoyed that.” He walked out of the room, throwing the door shut and the lock clicked a second later.
I screamed my rage after him as I realised he was going to send that to my father. If he’d just told me what he wanted, I wouldn’t have fought him with all my might. I wouldn’t have panicked at the thought of him pinning me down and forcing himself on me.
It suddenly hit me that I was alone and untied and I quickly ran to the window, but it was locked with a key. With a curse, I headed to the bathroom, finding the same problem.
I huffed in frustration, striding back to the bedroom and searching every drawer and cupboard for something I could use to escape.
When I came up short, I unscrewed the bulb in the lamp on my nightstand, then I pulled Rocco’s pillowcase off and put it inside. I dropped it to the floor and used the base of the lamp to crush it into a fine powder of glass, imagining it was Rocco’s face as I pulverised it. Then I sprinkled that glass all under the sheets where he slept and placed the cover back on the pillow filled with the remnants of the bulb.
A sweet satisfaction filled me and though I knew he’d probably punish me for it, I didn’t care. I wanted him to bleed for me.
Besides, if I didn’t do something, it meant I was giving up. And there was no force on earth which could make me do that.
I sat in Giuseppe’s study, my fingernails digging into my biceps as I forced myself to remain still with my arms folded as we waited for the proof of life from Rocco Romero.
My teeth were grinding so hard that I was surprised they hadn’t ground right down to dust yet.
My body was a strange mixture of utter exhaustion and coiled energy just waiting for an outlet.
I’d barely slept since Sloan had been stolen from me. Since that creature came and took what was mine while I stood helpless as a lamb. The shame of that moment would haunt me for all eternity.
I kept going over that morning in the church, turning over all the details in my mind again and again as I tried to figure out what I’d missed. How hadn’t we noticed two Romero rats sneaking right into the church? There had been people going in and out of there all morning, setting up decorations and laying flowers. I just couldn’t understand how they’d gotten in unnoticed. But I’d interrogated every parishioner, church warden, priest and bell ringer who even so much as blinked in the direction of that church in the week leading up to our wedding and it seemed like not one of them had seen a thing. Which either meant we had Romero spies in our midst or we were surrounded by idiots.
I’d wanted to take that side of my investigation further, but even Giuseppe Calabresi wouldn’t sign off on torturing a priest and the members of his congregation. But I wouldn’t forget this. There was something missing from the equation and though I didn’t understand what just yet, I’d get to the bottom of it and find out who needed to pay the price.
Giuseppe and Carlo sat talking business at his desk, discussing which places the Romeros might use to hide Sloan and what they might be doing with her. Royce stood glaring out of the window, seeming as tense as me as we waited.
At the muttered suggestion from Carlo that the Romeros could be abusing her body, I shoved out of my chair and stalked to the window too.
Sloan’s little white dog, Coco, leapt up as well, trotting at my heels as if he thought I was on my way to retrieve her right now. But I was as useless as the chair I’d just vacated. I had no idea where she was or what they were doing to her. I should have been getting to know my wife better right now. We should have been enjoying each other’s company and sharing our marriage bed. Instead I was here, like a wind-up toy with a missing part, unable to function without it and filled with all the promise of the purpose I’d been meant to fulfil.
A ping sounded from Giuseppe’s cellphone on the desk behind me and I snapped around, striding across the room in four long paces just as he snatched it into his grasp and opened the message.
“Figlio di puttana!” Son of a bitch! Giuseppe growled, glaring at the cellphone before thrusting it my way. “See what they’re doing to your poor bride? My precious daughter?”
I snatched the phone from him roughly, flipping it around so that I could see the photo for myself and Royce pushed close to look too.
Sloan lay sprawled on a bed, wearing a white tank top which was ripped at the shoulder and turning transparent from the water drenching her. Pink lipstick was smeared across her mouth, making her look like some kind of beat up whore.
But that wasn’t even the worst of it. The thing that had my heart pounding was the look of utter terror in her wide eyes. The way her hand was raised as if to ward off the man wielding this camera. She was fear embodied, desperate, alone, in need of rescuing more than anyone I’d ever known. She needed me. And yet I was utterly useless.
“There’s nothing in this picture to help us narrow down her location,” Carlo said analytically as he leaned over my shoulder to get a look for himself. “She’s sprawled on a bed. It could be anywhere. The only implication it gives us is that they may be defiling her.”
An actual growl spilled from my throat, echoed by the little dog at my ankles as the desire to beat Carlo’s head in with the cellphone currently locked in my fist overwhelmed me. My vision narrowed to two pinpricks of light and all I could see at the end of them were death and blood and vengeance.
“Control yourself, figlio,” Giuseppe said firmly and only that word on his lips saved Carlo’s life. Figlio. Son. For years Giuseppe had been the only real parental figure I’d known. He’d taken me in when I was nine, raised me up from the foster system and brought me into the fold. I’d had nannies and tutors and all kinds of practical care, but the love and respect of this man was the only thing I craved. To know he’d selected me as a husband for his daughter had been the brightest moment of my life. But to actually hear him refer to me as a son was the truest sense of love I’d ever felt from him.
“So what do we do now, boss?” Carlo asked, dropping back into his seat like the whole world didn’t hinge on the way we handled this.
Royce started pacing, holding his tongue through pure force of will.
“We pull out of Romero Territory,” Giuseppe growled, the cost of that decision clearly weighing heavily on him. “We can’t risk them hurting my little girl. All the time we’re sure she’s alive and relatively unharmed we will need to be seen to be doing what is asked of us.”
“Yes, boss,” Carlo agreed. “I’ll put the word out.”
“I’ll go and check in with some of our informants,” Royce announced, clearly needing to do something. “If anyone has heard even a whisper about the Romeros’ current whereabouts, I’ll find them.”
Giuseppe nodded his agreement and Royce strode from the room without another word.
“What about me?” I growled because we both knew there was no way in hell I’d be hanging back while the Romeros sucked this city dry and held us over a barrel.
Giuseppe turned his dark eyes on me, a hand raking down his face as he considered how best to use me. I was a tool at his disposal. The fiercest, meanest object in his grasp and I would destroy anything he aimed me at.
“Find out where they’re keeping her,” he said in a low voice. “Do anything you have to to get the locations of every property they own, then start searching them. This city is only
so big and the Romeros won’t be leaving it for the sake of one hostage. Not when they just tightened their grip on their power here. Besides, that pezzo di merda, piece of shit, Rocco Romero, sent that photo within three and a half hours of leaving us at the casino. I’m willing to bet that means he either made us wait just because he could or that it took him that long to get back to her. Either way, that means she’s within a certain radius of the casino. There are only so many destinations he could reach in such a short space of time. So find it. Find her. And kill every man, woman, child and goddamn cat hiding in that prison before bringing your bride back home.”
“Yes, boss,” I agreed with a dark smile.
I turned and strode from the room as Giuseppe and Carlo began to discuss what else they might do and how far they were willing to follow Rocco’s rules. But I had my instructions. I didn’t need to waste any more time on talking. It was time for action.
I headed straight downstairs and out of the house with Coco racing along at my heels. I frowned at the little dog as he continued to hound me. It wasn’t like I’d taken to feeding him treats or anything. The only possible reason I could come up with for him following me was that he knew I was hunting for Sloan. And I could respect his dedication even if he did seem to be as clueless as me on where to begin our hunt in earnest. But that was all about to change.
I headed straight for the garage to the side of the sprawling estate and unlocked it using the keypad attached to the wall outside.
I walked in, passing by the family cars and heading for the rack of tools at the back of the room.
I snatched a wrench, hammer and nail gun from the rack and stalked towards my Harley Davidson at the far end of the garage. I flipped open the saddle bag which hung beside the rear wheel and tossed the tools in before moving across the room to claim the key from the lock box on the wall.
I headed back to the bike and paused as I spotted Coco perched inside the open saddle bag.
“No, boy,” I said firmly, moving closer to lift him out of the bag. “This is too dangerous for little dogs.”
As my hand slid beneath him to hoist him out of the bag, he snarled at me, twisting suddenly and sinking his teeth into my finger.
I cursed as I snatched my hand back, glaring at the dog as he lowered himself further into the bag, giving me an expression that said he was coming no matter what I thought about it.
I rolled my eyes and flipped the top of the bag down over him as I gave in. I buckled it closed, leaving it loose enough for him to stick his nose out of a small gap at the top then swung my leg over the motorcycle. I took the helmet from the handlebars and placed it on my head, drawing the visor down to hide my face.
The beast growled beneath me as I started up the engine and I tugged on the throttle as I directed it out of the garage and down the drive. The guard at the gates recognised me and opened them as I approached and I was soon speeding down the streets towards downtown Sinners Bay with my destination in mind.
Calabresis were no fools and we knew our enemies well. The Romeros had men all over the city who did various jobs for them and Lucio ValPenza, their accountant, was one of the best known amongst us. Not that it had ever made sense for us to go after some pen pusher before now, but I was willing to bet that asshole had the answer to some of the questions I needed to ask.
I soon drew up outside his office and cut the engine, flipping open the saddle bag and hooking the hammer through the loop in my belt. If I needed any of the others tools then that would require a new location to work anyway. Coco shifted aside obligingly and I left the bag open for him to hop out.
It was late but that didn’t matter; the accountant always worked through the evening for the Romeros. We had his routine pegged.
I headed straight up to the glass door and walked inside.
I wasn’t even surprised to find Sloan’s dog at my heels again, his tiny strides as determined as mine.
I headed to the left as we made it inside and pushed open the door to the stairwell, climbing the five floors to his office and avoiding most of the CCTV cameras on my way. Not that I was too worried about being caught on them. The Calabresis had the local police in their pockets and even if some footage of me showed up in an investigation, it would get lost long before any court date came up.
I strode straight down the carpeted corridor to his office and threw the door open as I reached it.
Lucio looked up in shock as the door bounced off of the wall and I pulled my helmet from my head so that he could see exactly who had come calling.
“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” he gasped, scrambling to his feet and backing away toward the windows which spanned the wall behind him.
“Not quite,” I replied as I advanced on him.
He waited until I moved to the left of his huge desk then darted right like he thought he might be able to outrun me.
I released a merciless laugh as I hefted the helmet in my hand and threw it at the back of his head.
He hit the floor like a sack of shit and I was on him before he could do any more than roll over.
I threw my fists into his face, one, two, three times as he cried out for mercy.
“I want a list of every single property Martello Romero and his sons own!” I demanded as blood flew and something cracked beneath my knuckles.
“They’ll k-kill me!” he gasped.
“I’ll kill you,” I promised. “But if you give me what I want then at least you’ll have a chance to run before they find out what you did.”
Lucio whimpered beneath me and Coco leapt forward to bite his leg.
“Ahh!” Lucio wailed, kicking and flailing like he was being attacked by a Rottweiler instead of a Pomeranian.
“Off, Coco,” I commanded and to my surprise, the little fucker listened. He backed up, growling at the man beneath me as I yanked the hammer out of my belt.
“Last chance to give me what I want,” I warned, raising the weapon with intent.
Lucio whimpered in fear, lifting a trembling hand to point at a set of drawers beside his desk. “The deeds to everything I know about are in there.”
I got off of him and moved to claim the information I needed.
Lucio started crawling for the door, dripping blood all over the carpet as he went, but I ignored him.
I ripped the drawer open and searched through the files until I found the one I needed. I flipped it open and found a thick folio of documentation on various properties all over the Romero-run part of the city and beyond.
The first one was an apartment on the west side and I smirked to myself as I snapped the file shut and stalked towards the door.
I snatched my helmet from the floor as I went and whistled for Coco to follow me.
I’m coming for you, Romero. And I’ll have your head swinging from my fist before the night is up.
I sat eating my breakfast in the kitchen while Sloan nursed a bowl of porridge beside me, her hand cuffed to the heavy stool she sat on. She was pouting. And I was smirking about it like an asshole. Which I was, so that was fine.
Her nasty little trick with the lightbulb had backfired on her rather spectacularly when I’d spotted the glass lining my bed. I’d made her clean the whole lot with her bare hands before she’d had to change the sheets and hoover the mattress. All in all, I’d been pretty damn pleased with the way it had worked out, not least the cuts which marred her fingertips from the broken glass she’d meant for me.
Frankie’s cellphone started ringing and he hooked it out of his pocket, raising an eyebrow at me.
“It’s Papa,” he said a moment before he answered.
Sloan stilled beside me, peeking up and clearly attempting to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“Ciao, Papa,” Frankie said, standing up a little straighter as if our father might hear the slouch in his voice. Which he damn well might. “Oh, okay…are you sure you want to drive all the way up here, though?”
I raised an eyebrow at that. We’d been waiting for him to fly
back into the country so that he could decide how he wanted to deal with our hostage situation, but Papa hardly ever came up here. It was our little safe haven. I didn’t want to relinquish control of it to him if he came. Hell, he might even want to take the master bedroom from me. Though as I thought about that, I doubted it. He didn’t sleep in any of the rooms my mother used to sleep in. In fact, he’d sold most of the properties he’d owned when she’d been alive after her death, the memories of her in them too present for him to bear their company. I was pretty sure the only reason he’d kept this house at all was because she’d loved it so much and selling it would have felt like a betrayal to her memory.
“Okay,” Frankie said. “We’ll see you in a minute.”
He hung up and I frowned at him. “What do you mean ‘in a minute?’” I asked.
“He’s almost here, just called ahead so that I could have coffee waiting for him,” Frankie explained.
“Fuck,” I muttered, getting to my feet and unlocking Sloan’s cuff.
“What’s going on?” she breathed in alarm, sensing the tension spilling through the room.
“You’re about to meet the head of our family,” I said. “So put your best smile on, bella, because he doesn’t appreciate a frowny face.”
I snapped the open cuff around her other wrist, keeping hold of the chain that linked them and tugging her along after me as I headed out of the room.
“Enzo!” I barked, striding straight into the living room where my brother was sprawled on the couch in his boxers.
“What’s got you twitching?” he asked me, casting his gaze over Sloan. “Are we cutting off a finger after all?”
Sloan flinched, jerking back a step like she expected him to come at her with a meat cleaver right then and there.
“Stop with the finger shit,” I snapped. “Papa’s coming. Like, right now. We need to clean this place up!”
“Merda.” Enzo growled, getting up instantly and tossing empty beer bottles into the fire basket.
This was why Papa had really called ahead. He hated mess and he knew we let our standards slip when he wasn’t checking up on us. So long as we had the place looking respectable by the time he showed, he pretended not to know about it. And I’d rather run about like a whipped little kid cleaning up than hear all about the state of the place for the duration of his stay.
Beautiful Carnage: A Dark Mafia Bully Romance (The Boys of Sinners Bay Book 1) Page 10