by Morgan James
Stepping in front of me, he took my chin in his hand. “Good thing I don’t need your love, principessa. Just your obedience.”
I blinked rapidly to clear my vision, and Matteo thrust me away before striding toward the workbench. His hand danced over the implements dotting the tabletop before he made his selection. He approached slowly, the long cane swinging like a pendulum at his side.
“What are you doing?” Fear caused my voice to shake as I watched him warily.
“Ready to surrender yet?”
I shook my head. “N-no.”
His gaze narrowed, darkening with anger. “Do you dare defy me?”
I swallowed hard, unable to rip my stare away from the narrow rod hanging loosely from his fingers. Steeling my voice, I spoke with as much conviction as I could muster. “You’ll have to kill me first.”
He bent and pulled an object from a sheath attached to his ankle, and my heart stuttered as the blade of the knife shimmered in the dancing light.
My eyes widened. “Matteo...” I twisted, pulling against the restraints as he circled me, my false bravado fleeing. “Please,” I begged. “Please don’t!”
He stepped forward, his face a mask of concentration as he pressed the tip of the knife into the fabric of my dress. Tears spilled over as he drew it downward, the black material parting in its wake, baring my breasts to him. I turned my face away, unable to bear the humiliation as the dress fell from my body and pooled around my feet.
My chest rose and fell on silent sobs, and I forced them under control. I would weather this; I would endure whatever he planned. Then I would run. I just needed to play along for now until he thought I was too cowed, too weak. Matteo was too confident; he thought he was breaking my spirit. He was wrong. As soon as he turned his back, I would escape. And I would make him pay.
Blinking away the tears, I retreated deep into myself and turned off my emotions. I had to stay strong no matter what. Somehow I resisted the urge to flinch as Matteo held the cane up.
“Ten lashes.”
I let out a sharp cry as the cane connected with my back, and I arched under the pain.
“Count.”
I shook my head, and the cane landed in the exact same spot. “One!”
“Not so hard, now was it?”
Before I could answer, the narrow rod slapped against my skin again, a mere inch below the last. I bit back a cry, refusing to show weakness. He had to know how badly it hurt; I wouldn’t reinforce his control with cries of mercy.
The cane hit the same spot again. “Count!”
“Two.” The single word left my mouth on a resigned breath, and I gritted my teeth against the humiliation welling up inside me. I counted each strike as it landed against my skin until I was sure my back looked like a ladder of red welts.
Matteo touched one finger to the small of my back, just above my ass. I swayed forward as if to get away, but he kept his touch firm. Slowly, it trailed upward over the ridges of raised flesh until he reached the base of my neck. His hand slid over my collarbone as he circled my throat.
“Take heed, principessa.” He leaned forward, so close that his breath stirred the stands of hair near my ear. “I will break you. And when I do, there will be nothing left.”
Twenty-Four
Eric
People swarmed into the aisle, eager to disembark, and I grabbed my duffel from the overhead bin. Jack and I exited the plane in silence, then went our separate ways. I headed straight for the rental agency to get a car for the next couple days while Jack ducked into the bathroom, exactly as we’d discussed during the flight.
As soon as I stepped out of the airport, I felt eyes on me, and I surreptitiously scanned my surroundings as I entered the rental office. There were several people in front of me, and I took my place in line. The hairs on the back of my neck bristled, and the tingling feeling along my spine intensified. From the corner of my eye, I watched the cars entering and exiting the arrivals lane. Passengers greeted their drivers with hugs and kisses, loaded suitcases into the trunks, then pulled away from the curb. Except one car.
A black Escalade remained in the same spot just outside the glass double doors of the baggage claim area, and people swarmed around it on their way to the parking lot. I could feel the man’s eyes on me from here, and I shifted my stance slightly so I could see him better. Jack entered the office moments later, a dark look on his face. I could tell from the set of his shoulders that he had either seen or felt the man’s presence as well. I shifted my attention from Jack and turned back toward the counter, my foot tapping an impatient rhythm on the thin, industrial carpet.
The line moved along, and fifteen minutes later I filled out the paperwork for a small sedan. Palming the keys, I made my way to the parking lot, feeling the man’s eyes on me the entire way. As soon as I pulled into the flow of traffic, the man steered into the lane behind me. I supposed I should be thankful he hadn’t put a bullet in my head the second I stepped out the doors. Whatever Capaldi was planning, he would require it face-to-face. He liked to see his prey dangling from a hook, writhing and begging before he put them out of their misery.
I merged onto the freeway, then headed toward the outskirts of town. At this time of night, traffic had slowed a bit, making it easier to navigate. The warehouse was several miles outside of town, past the projects. I exited into a relatively popular tourist area and pulled into the first hotel I saw. I parked the rental under the covered walkway in front of the lobby, then made my way inside.
From the corner of my eye I watched as the black car turn into the drive and back into a parking spot diagonal from the entrance. I had decided against making reservations ahead of time; without knowing exactly where I was staying, it would make it infinitely more difficult for anyone to bug my room before I got in there. I wasn’t able to bring any detection devices, and though the agents we would be meeting would be able to, it would be obvious to anyone watching outside what we were doing. I was going to have to wing this part of it and hope for the best.
The concierge greeted me with a smile, and I told her that I would need a room for two nights. Hopefully. Tomorrow night really depended on what went down at the warehouse and whether I walked away or not.
“Preferably on the back side away from the main drag,” I told the woman.
With a nod, she clicked away at the keyboard. “We have rooms available on the ground floor as well as the third floor. Which would you prefer?”
“Third floor, please.” That would deter anyone from having a direct line of sight into the room.
With a smile, the young woman handed me the programmed keycard for my room, and I made my way back outside. Climbing back into the car, I started it up then pulled all the way around to the back of the building. Hopefully, the man in the Escalade would follow me and wouldn’t see Jack when he arrived. If the man recognized Jack from the airport and put two and two together, it could throw everything off.
I gathered my things and crossed to the single door at the back entrance. I slid my keycard inside to unlock it and stepped inside just as the black car pulled around the corner. The hotel was only five stories tall, and though the other man didn’t know exactly which room I was staying in, it would be easy enough to detect new movement in the rooms above. I stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the third floor. It was just high enough off the ground to conceal most of my movement and, with luck, discourage putting a bullet through the window. I didn’t think that would happen, but it was better to err on the side of caution.
The elevator doors slid open, and I glanced at the numbered doors to get my bearings before making my way down the hall to my room. I stepped inside and flipped on the light, then made my way deeper into the room to drop my duffel on the small table in the corner. As I did so, I flicked a quick glance out the window without turning my head. In the shadows, away from the glow of the street lamp, I could just barely discern the bulky shape of the Escalade parked almost directly across from
my room.
I grabbed the remote off the dresser and flipped on the TV, then shut off the overhead light. I settled on the bed where the man could hopefully see my partial figure and settled in to wait. Twenty minutes later, a knock came on my door. I flipped on the bathroom light and turned on the faucet before I checked the peephole and opened the door. Hopefully the noise of the running water would conceal our conversation if someone had happened to plant any devices, either inside or out, and the light from the bathroom would overpower the shaft of light coming in from the hallway.
An agent slid inside the narrow opening, as I cracked the door, and he studied me. I jerked a thumb over my shoulder. “Black Escalade directly across from the window. Only one man that I could see.”
He nodded, and I traded places with him, slipping silently out the door of the hotel room. Now the agent would make himself comfortable on the bed I had just vacated. He was similar enough to my height and build that three stories up, the man in the car hopefully wouldn’t notice a difference.
I swiveled my head left and right as I stepped into the hallway, and a man hovering near the elevators tipped his chin at me. In silence, we stepped into the car and rode up to the fourth floor where we exited and I followed him down the hall to Jack’s room. After a brief knock, the door was thrown open, revealing Jack and a half dozen men I didn’t recognize.
The man who had led me to Jack’s room turned to me as soon as the door closed and held out of hand. “SSA Martinez.”
I gave him a single hard shake. “Donahue.” The Supervisory Special Agent looked familiar. “Have you been working the Capaldi case for a while?”
He dipped his chin. “I was at the warehouse a few years ago when shit went down.”
My jaw set in a tight line. Now I remembered. He’d been younger then, a kid fresh out of the academy who’d been plunged into the depths of hell that night. He knew better than anyone—better than most anyway—how important it was that we not fuck this up. They’d slipped off the hook one too many times; I promised myself it wouldn’t happen again.
Martinez led me further into the room and made introductions to the other agents assembled around the living room of Jack’s suite. SSA Martinez leveled a stare at me. “We’ve got one man undercover inside the house.”
“How long has he been in there?”
“Nearly four years.”
My eyes widened. “Christ.” That was a hell of a long time to be undercover. “Why so long?”
Martinez lifted one shoulder. “We needed to cultivate loyalty. Trust. He entered the organization just before the operation at the warehouse. Pulling him afterward would have looked too suspicious, so he stayed in place. He’s been close to the new capo and working on gaining his confidence.”
The new capo? Ignacio’s brother, Massimo, had taken over when he was killed. Had Massimo passed now, too?
“What do we know so far?” I asked.
“There’s been a definite shift the last couple days,” Martinez replied. “Seems there was some kind of dissent in the family, and an argument broke out over the girl. There was a meeting the other night at Richie’s,” Martinez said, mentioning the family-owned restaurant downtown, “and shit apparently went sideways. Matteo Capaldi shot Massimo at point-blank range and has assumed the head of the family.”
I blinked at Martinez. “He shot his own father?”
“Looks that way,” the man replied.
“Jesus.” The man wasn’t fucking around. He was a loose cannon, and I hated the thought of Jules being anywhere close to him. I glanced out the window in the direction of the warehouse and ran one hand through my hair. So it was Matteo that I’d spoken with. What the hell did he want from me, other than a human sacrifice? Was it to prove a point to Jules for running away? It was possible, but somehow I thought it went deeper than that.
What the hell had happened to prompt him to kill his own father? If what Martinez said was true, they’d fought over Jules. I knew from the information we’d received that the elder Capaldi had planned to marry her off to the leader of another local syndicate in an effort to settle affairs between the two groups. Had Matteo killed Massimo in an effort to protect her?
“There’s another problem,” Martinez said, his dark stare never leaving mine. “Our guy says he hasn’t seen her in more than twenty-four hours.”
My spine stiffened, and I snapped my head toward him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“They had a disagreement last night and he apparently dragged her out of the house. My guy tried to go along, but Matteo took only the driver. Nobody knows where they went.”
“Son of a bitch.” Fiery rage swept through my veins, and a red haze filled my vision as my body trembled under the force of my fury. He wasn’t going to walk away from this; I vowed it on my life. Whatever happened tomorrow night, I would never let him hurt anyone ever again.
Over the next hour, we discussed our plans for the following evening. After we were done, the agents filtered out the door and made their way back to their respective rooms. Jack propped his hands on his hips and stared at me. It was after one in the morning, but I still found myself wound like a spring. I couldn’t relax, wouldn’t be able to until I saw Jules for myself.
Jack drew in a breath. “Are you ready for this?”
I felt like I was standing at the end of a loaded barrel playing Russian roulette. Was anyone ready to walk into a situation knowing that it might cost them their life? I thought once more of Jules. Sweet, innocent, naïve Jules, she was the reason my heart continued to beat, and I would gladly sacrifice myself for her. I nodded. “I’m ready to end it once and for all.”
“Okay.” His face was set in a resolute expression. “I’ve got your back no matter what happens.”
“Thanks, man.” If there was anyone I could count on, it was Jack. Former Army Ranger, he was one of the smartest, most relentless men I knew. He wouldn’t go down without a fight, and he’d do his damnedest to make sure we all walked out of there alive.
I turned away and swallowed hard. I didn’t even want to contemplate all the things that could go wrong. Ever since I’d gotten that phone call, a thousand scenarios had played through my mind—all of them brutal and gory. Except this time there was an added component—Jules. I prayed she wouldn’t be there tomorrow to witness whatever went down. Because I knew without a doubt that it would end in bloodshed, and a lot of it. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her.
I faced Jack once more. “See you tomorrow.”
I exited Jack’s room and made my way back down to my own. The agent inside slipped out just as quietly as he’d arrived, and I made my way to the bed. Not bothering to undress, I collapsed backward on the scratchy comforter and flung one arm over my face. The TV blared in the background, but the dismal thoughts raging in my mind drowned them out.
Just the thought of going back into that warehouse again set my heart rate into a rapid tempo. I knew exactly why Matteo had chosen it. He wanted the advantage of my discomfort. Well, I wasn’t going to give it to him. I was going to shut that shit down, lock it away somewhere dark and deep where it could never be found. The only thing that mattered was Jules, and if I didn’t have her, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to walk out of there alive.
Twenty-Five
Giuliana
The heavy clank of the lock disengaging reached my ears, but I didn’t lift my head. My thoughts were muddled, clouded by pain and exhaustion. I hadn’t slept at all, and I wondered vaguely how long it’d been since I’d eaten anything. There was no light, no sense of time to speak of. It could have been hours or days. I was betting on the latter. It felt like weeks since I’d been stripped from Eric and immersed in this hellish nightmare.
“Ciao, bella.” Matteo’s tone was mocking and insincere as he shut and locked the door behind him.
I closed my eyes and listened to the soles of his shoes scuff softly against the worn stone floor as he moved around the small room. “I h
ad the most wonderful vintage from Nonna Scali’s vineyard. Perhaps we shall go and visit when this is all over. What do you think?”
Over my dead body. I kept my eyes closed, my head bowed as he spoke, not bothering to respond.
The smell of something savory wafted on the air, and my stomach grumbled.
“Hungry, principessa?”
Saliva pooled in my mouth, and I forced myself to swallow. I wouldn’t show him any weakness.
He reached for the folding chair again, then flipped it around so it faced me. He swaggered around it and took a seat barely a foot from me. Suspended once more from the ceiling, I stared straight down at the container of food settled on his lap. I drew in a deep breath and immediately averted my gaze as the scent of garlic filled my nostrils.
“You must be hungry. It’s been several days. How much longer will you continue to pine for your lover?”
Forever. I gave my head a little shake even as my stomach clenched and let out another audible growl.
“You know what you have to do.”
He opened the carton and forked up a bite of lasagna, the stringy cheese stretching and tempting me with its lure. He held it up, inches from my face. “Tell me.”
I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. Hunger pains twisted my stomach into knots, and tears crept into my eyes, burning the bridge of my nose. I hated him for what he was doing. I would never give in; I would never give myself to him.
“Why must you make this harder than it needs to be?”
I remained stubbornly silent, and he barked out my name so loudly that I jumped.
“Giuliana! Tell me. Tell me you’re mine.”
Pushing down the pain, I blinked my eyes open and met his dark gaze. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
He tipped his head and lowered the fork back to the container. Despite my best efforts to control it, my gaze dropped longingly toward the pasta and my stomach clenched on another rumble.