by Bethany-Kris
“Well, unofficially,” Cat said.
“At least until I get his documentation,” Dante put in. “Then he’s mine through and through. Ours, I mean.”
“He’s a handsome thing,” Giovanni said, grinning. “Nobody’s ever gonna believe he came from you, man. Not with looks like those.”
Dante laughed. “Fuck off, you asshole.”
“Little ears,” Cat warned.
“Sorry, bella.”
Lucian cleared his throat, still eyeing Michel. “He does look like Catrina, though, except for those brown eyes. Even his hair is a little red in the light.”
“A little,” Dante agreed.
“That’ll help your story of him being hers, anyway.”
“That’s the plan.” Dante smiled though it faded fast. “Dolcezza, could you give us a few minutes?”
“She should know, Dante,” Giovanni insisted.
Dante flicked his younger brother with a look. “Shut up.”
“But—”
“Shut up,” Dante repeated, firmer the second time. He turned back to Cat. “Please give us a few minutes alone to chat.”
“Know what?” Cat asked.
“Bruno is in the city, too,” Giovanni blurted out, refusing to look at Dante.
“I don’t know how Dad never killed you for disobeying every fucking thing he ever told you, Gio,” Dante growled.
“You’re late to the game, cafone. Get used to it,” Giovanni snapped. “I’m not changing and a new boss isn’t going to make a difference.”
Cat ignored their exchange. “I’m not surprised Bruno is in the city.”
Lucian was the only one who noticed Cat’s comment. “Why is that?”
“Because Marc couldn’t wipe his own ass without Bruno’s permission. I couldn’t imagine him coming to America and Bruno not following behind.”
“Why didn’t you mention this to me last night?” Dante asked.
Cat shrugged, letting Michel nibble on the tips of her fingers. “Maybe I assumed you would already know that, Dante. Do you send your very best men off without you?”
“Point taken.”
“Yes, well, how did you find out Bruno is in the city?”
Dante’s stare cut to Giovanni quickly. “Keep that mouth of yours shut.”
“She deserves to know,” Giovanni said again.
Cat wasn’t in the mood to dance around stubborn men, so she turned to Lucian instead. He was angry with her, but if he had information for Cat that might help bring Johnathan home, he would tell her.
“Know what, Lucian?”
“Lucian—” Dante didn’t even get to finish his sentence.
“One of Gio’s men was killed last night near the area we believe the men who took John are hiding out. When his body was found by his partner who had been chatting with a few people in the district, there was a note in his pocket.”
Cat didn’t blink at the terrible story. Men died. It was an unfortunate part of their business. “What did it say?”
“It said if the Marcellos wanted their principe back, their queen needed to be the one who came for him.”
“And we know which warehouse they’re in?” Cat asked quietly.
“Yes, now,” Dante said, his jaw clenching tight. “Essentially, they hid in plain sight, but it worked until they didn’t need it to anymore.”
Cat faced her husband with a steeling resolve. His words the night before flooded her thoughts and heart, but she didn’t have a choice. No doubt, Dante knew it, too.
Please don’t argue with me so I won’t have to let you win.
Her blood, his hands.
“I’m sorry,” Cat told her husband, seeing the pain flickering in his eyes.
“Don’t argue with me, Cat. Not on this.”
Too late.
• • •
“He’s terribly angry with me.”
It hurt when Dante was angry with her.
“He’ll get over it,” Giovanni replied.
Cat didn’t think so.
“Kim didn’t mind watching Michel?” Cat asked, needing to get her mind off Dante for a moment.
“Of course, not. She loves kids, you know.”
Gio didn’t take his eyes off the laptop he was working on. She didn’t have the first clue what he was doing, but she knew it had something to do with security cameras, wireless transmitting, and hacking. Beyond that, Cat didn’t understand his earlier babbling when he explained what he was going to try to do.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Giovanni muttered.
Cat’s heart found her throat. “What?”
“Nothing, just hit the wrong security set up, that’s all. Next one, I hope.”
Cat checked her watch, noting it was almost eleven in the morning. Twisting in the passenger seat, Cat surveyed the warehouse buildings in the thick of the shipping district. Each held a different security system keeping it safe and most were run off wireless wavelengths, so it wasn’t a surprise others would jam up Giovanni’s program until he hit the correct one.
“Do you think he’s okay?” Cat asked.
“Dante is—”
“No, Johnathan.”
“Oh.” Giovanni’s typing stopped for a brief second before it resumed. “He better be.”
Cat cringed. “Lucian would kill me if not.”
Giovanni hummed noncommittally. “He’s in panic mode. John is fine. These people aren’t stupid enough to hurt him, and if they are, I sincerely hope one of our bullets takes them out before Lucian gets a hold of them.
“If John’s fine, which I believe he is, then I still hope the fucking idiots die before Lucian catches them. Because that man is serial killer material when he wants to be. He seems calm on the outside, and he’s sweet with his wife and his mother, but privately inside his head, he can be a little scary.”
A shiver wracked her shoulders. “Thank you for making my worry worse.”
“Lucian might be angry with you right now, but he would never hurt you, no matter what the outcome of this shitty day is.”
“Funny, I don’t believe you.”
Giovanni gazed up from the laptop, leveling Cat with a single look. “You should. Dante loves you and he considers you the mother to a child he wants the rest of the world to see as his son. You’re family—a Marcello. Nothing is more important to us than family. Lucian would never hurt you. Stop fretting. Pretty soon this will all be over.”
Cat chewed on the inside of her cheek, unaccustomed to feeling as nervous as she did. “Grazie.”
“You’re welcome.”
A few more minutes passed in silence before Cat asked, “What exactly is the plan after I approach the front of the warehouse?”
“Someone needs to run this and keep an eye on everything while maintaining communication with Lucian and Dante. Not to mention, if there are cameras outside, there are cameras inside. I might be able to locate John in the warehouse. While I hate to be the sorry fucker left out of all the fun, I’m the only one of us three brothers who knows anything about this kind of shit, so that’s my job.”
“What about Lucian and Dante?”
“A guy scouted the building before we got here from the roof of another for entrances and exits. There’s a main one in the front, two loading docks in the back, and an exit door on the side. You’re going to the front, Dante is going to the side, and Lucian is going in through the back.”
“That doesn’t tell me a lot about the plan, Gio.”
“Because we don’t have one.”
“Perfetto,” Cat hissed. “Sounds brilliant and completely infallible.”
“It’s like this,” Giovanni replied, never taking his eyes off the laptop, “… we don’t know what’s inside, how many, or if John is even in there. When I have more info, we work from there. If we can get it done just the four of us, even better. Sorry if it doesn’t work for you, but that’s how this is going to go.”
Then, his features brightened. “I think I got it … shit, yeah, I got it.
”
Cat leaned over the seat as the screen popped up with several different camera sights and angles. Giovanni clicked on one in particular, zooming in as close as he could get before the screen began to blur with pixilation. A white car looked like it was inside the building, too, but Cat didn’t understand how it would have gotten there.
“Black hair, six foot tall, tattoo that shows on the back of his neck above the neckline, and built like a brick house?”
“Bruno.”
“Yeah, well, he just put a black duffle bag into the back of that car, so he’s getting ready to leave or do something.”
Giovanni turned his cellphone on and hit a button. In the next car, Cat watched as Lucian put a small earpiece into his ear, nodding when Giovanni said, “Show time; connect Dante to the call, too.”
Reaching over, Giovanni opened the glove compartment, pulled out a pair of large framed women’s sunglasses and handed them to Cat. Her confused expression must have caught his attention.
“They’re my wife’s but with an added addition.”
Cat twisted the black glasses around in her hands, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. “Like what?”
“Here.” Giovanni twisted the glasses around and pointed to the inner piece that would rest just behind Cat’s ear. There, he pointed to a small black circle that looked built into the glasses. “GPS. Kim was nice enough to let me steal her favorite sunglasses for the day, so thank her.”
Cat was aghast. “You track your wife?”
“Not like you think, but if someone took her, she always keeps these on her, and she’s aware there’s a chip in them. Just wear them.”
Cat put the glasses on, pushing them high on the crown of her head. “Why would I need these, anyway?”
Giovanni shrugged. “Just a precaution. Ready to draw him out?”
“Sì.”
“I’ll see you in a few, then.”
Cat got out of the car and was met by her husband. The scowl Dante sported spoke entirely of his anxiety and pain. “You know the rules, Amore.”
“Don’t go inside the building. If I get the chance, take him out, but only if it’s going to be clean.”
“And don’t make any stupid moves or let him lead you away,” Dante added, arching a brow.
“Yeah, I got it, bello.”
“We’re a couple of buildings over, so it’s a little walk.” Dante shot a glance down at Cat’s boots. “Cristo, woman. Heels, really?”
“Anything else isn’t my style,” Cat said, grinning.
Dante’s severe expression melted away. “I love you, huh?”
“I know. I love you, too.”
“Don’t be stupid, Cat.”
“I didn’t get this far in my life by acting like a fool, Dante.”
“That’s the only thing helping me to breathe right now.”
“Do you want to wish me luck?” Cat asked.
“No.” Dante stepped forward and grabbed Cat’s face in both of his hands, kissing her so fiercely it almost hurt. He pulled away, reluctance filling his gaze. “No luck, you don’t need it.”
Bulletproof, Cat thought. He would always see her like that, even if she wasn’t.
“Don’t be stupid,” her husband said one last time before letting her hand go.
Cat couldn’t look back at Dante as she walked away. She had to fix what she broke—her family.
It was a good ten minute walk through the empty streets to get to the warehouse in question. On a weekend, little work was done around here, apparently.
Cat recognized the sign on the front of a drab, gray warehouse that she had been told to look for. Besides the front access with a window darkened by paint, there was also a small, metal garage door. There was a security camera nearly hidden in the eave of the entrance. She didn’t have to wait long. The groaning shudder of metal lifting signaled the garage door opening.
A white car drove out as soon as the door was high enough for it to slip under. With windows tinted a dark black, Cat couldn’t make out who sat behind the wheel, but she knew.
When the car came to a stop only a foot from her form, Cat stared head-on into the windshield. The driver’s side window rolled down three inches.
“Money buys a lot of things, Catrina,” she heard a familiar voice say.
Bruno.
“It does,” Cat said.
“Mmhmm, like bulletproof glass and a hideout. Best way I’ve spent my money in a long time. Take the coat off.”
Cat hesitated. There was a small revolver in the inside pocket of her jacket, meant to be a backup. Still, she had to wonder if little Johnathan was in the car, too. It was a possibility.
“Take it off,” Bruno repeated.
The coat fell to the ground in a second.
“Beautiful, Catrina. As always, you dress to impress your prey. At your thigh, toss the knife.”
Cat’s jaw tensed, her only show of irritation. Of course, he would know about her knife. It was, usually, the only weapon she kept on her and had been for years. She always had two or three as a replacement. Cat reached up the skirt of her dress and pulled the knife from the sheath at her inner thigh. It clanked on the pavement as it dropped.
“And the boots, they can go, too.”
“There’s nothing in my boots,” Cat said.
“Yes, well, I don’t trust you. Whores like you have a way of lying about everything. Off with them if you want your principe back.”
“What about your principe?”
“Off with the goddamn boots, Catrina.”
She kicked her ankle-high, suede heels to the ground, losing a good four inches in height in the process. Now, Bruno would be able to look down on her if he stood in front of her. It unsettled her to think he might be above her in any way.
“In the car, now.”
Again, Cat wavered. She hadn’t heard a single cry come from inside the vehicle. Nothing to suggest her nephew was inside. Beyond that, she hadn’t caught a glimpse of her husband or Lucian since she left their cars behind. She certainly couldn’t see around the fucking building given her position.
Don’t let him lead you away.
Don’t be stupid.
In the back of her mind, Johnathan came to the forefront like the bang of a gun. He could be in the car. Perhaps sleeping, which would be the best choice.
“Here’s the thing,” Bruno muttered, bringing Cat from her thoughts. “You’ve got five seconds to get your pretty ass inside this car, Catrina Danzi.”
“Marcello. My name is Catrina Marcello.”
“Get in the car.”
“No,” Cat said, refusing to let him win.
“Do it, or I’ll blow that building straight to hell.”
Cat’s heart stopped. “What?”
“You know me, Catrina. I don’t let things go to the wayside. I’ve got a backup, like always. There isn’t a single doubt in my mind that someone is attempting to get into that building. You’re just the fucking bait. And if you don’t get inside this car and take me to my son, I’ll blow your nephew and whoever else is trying to reach that kid into nothing but ash and bits. Get in.”
Cat did.
Cruel, cold eyes surveyed her when she closed the door. Warmth blew from the heater, warming her frozen feet, but Cat didn’t care. She was far too focused on Bruno and the wickedly evil sneer he sported.
“Let’s go for a little drive, cagna.”
Cat didn’t speak as the car pulled away from the warehouse. She kept one eye on Bruno, noticing the gun and cellphone he held in one hand while he steered with the other. For a good two minutes, he drove in silence. Cat wasn’t sure where they were going as he weaved in and out of backstreets she didn’t recognize.
When Bruno did finally speak, a nauseated sensation flooded Cat. “Play good, or I’ll hit the call button. If I do that, the building behind us is going to go bang in a big way.”
“What about your men inside?”
Bruno shrugged. “They matter little to me
and they have no idea of my true plans. I’ve waited a long time to speak with you, Catrina.”
“I suspected.”
“Sì, and you should know, I’m going to enjoy this.”
“I’m not going to give you Michel,” Cat said, hoping to distract him in some way. The further from her husband they drove, the worse her dread became.
“I don’t care.”
Cat stiffened in the seat. “Excuse me?”
“That bastard of Catherine’s, I don’t care if I ever see him again. Born with brown eyes and blond hair, like I wouldn’t fucking know. Cristo, that goddamn thing isn’t mine.”
“But you celebrated—”
“Others did, I simply went along with it.” Bruno took a deep breath, gaze narrowing. “She was going to leave, you know.”
“What?”
“Catherine.” Bruno’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. “I just knew it. The next time you came, she was going to leave with you. I couldn’t let her.”
“She was my sister and you hurt her. I couldn’t let you keep hurting her.”
“I loved her!”
Cat inched slightly away from the anger flying from the man beside her.
Love came in many forms, and sometimes, one of those forms was the terrible misdeed of abuse. Most times, because the abuser didn’t know any other way. The abused, however, was the one who learned no other way.
“You hurt her, Bruno,” Cat repeated. “You’re an awful, disgusting piece of shit and—”
His hand left the steering wheel in a flash, cracking Cat in the face. She was knocked against the passenger window with a thud, failing to catch her balance. The movement of the car jerking to the side before rolling to a stop was the only thing Cat felt before Bruno was on her. The gun in his hand waved in front of her face, the cellphone lost somewhere on the floor. When Bruno’s foot stomped down to the floor as if he were bracing himself, something crunched and he cussed.
She sincerely hoped that was the fucking phone. Cat shook her head from side to side in order to keep the barrel of the gun away from her head. All she needed to do was stay alive.
Bruno’s rage made his hands shake, unable to hold the weapon steady.
Cat used his weakness to her advantage, knocking the gun out of his hand with her palm and sending it flying into the backseat somewhere. Bruno laughed darkly above her, slapping Cat hard before both of his hands were at her throat. He squeezed just enough to take her oxygen away.