Page 27 of New Orleans Collection

Our Heart:

Why would I be buying whipped cream?

Are you having naughty thoughts?

When it comes to you, I’m always having naughty thoughts.

Miss you.

Our Heart:

Miss you too.

Maybe I should get some whipped cream.

I chuckle at her response and let the conversation go there. It’s not unusual for her to be on the phone, but I’ve found, from watching her, when she’s doing a task, she focuses on it and doesn’t allow a lot of distractions. It’s something I admire about her because she does the same thing with people—gives them her full attention.

There’s some movement at the back of the store and I squint, as if it’ll make it easier to see what is going on. The sound of a van screeching to a halt is loud as I notice two guys hauling someone out of the back door of the grocery store. The flash of green has me on edge because it looks like the same color Viola is wearing today.

I throw my car in drive and move closer. Right before the back doors of the van close, which is where whoever the people grabbed was just thrown, I get a clear view of Viola slumped over, her gorgeous hair falling like a waterfall over her shoulder.

My eyes widen and my heart starts to race as one of the guys who grabbed her jump into the passenger seat, the other having already gotten in the back with our woman. They race out of the alley, and I’m frozen for a second. That second is too long because when I snap back to reality and try to give chase, I don’t see the van when I look down the street in the direction they turned.

I pound on the steering wheel, regret and pure fucking terror filling me.

I quickly pull out and point my car toward the office which is where I know Mateo is. Probably Massimo as well. We might not be talking to our brother, but that doesn’t mean work stops. Massimo has thrown himself into work since he doesn’t know what else to do with himself.

The legitimate trading business we have isn’t exactly a front, but there’s not only legal business going on within our walls.

I’m barely paying attention as I drive through the city, wishing I could break every single traffic law along the way. Cops would only make this situation worse. The thought of Viola being in danger, hurt, or worse, is the only reason I’m able to hold onto a sliver of my control.

I want to scream the entire drive, but instead I’m completely silent except for my ragged breathing.

I’m pretty sure one of the guys I saw throw Viola in the back of the van works for Martinez. Okay, I’m not pretty sure. I’m positive, but if I focus on it then I’ll go and track that scum bucket down right now and put a bullet between his eyes.

I need to be smarter than that.

It’s not easy to do.

I find myself doing something I haven’t done in years—pray. If we can get our woman out of this, if she’s safe and unharmed, I’ll do anything in my power to keep her safe for the rest of her life. I’ll ensure Mateo makes it right with her. I’ll even make sure he puts down his wild vendetta with the Guidice family.

I’d rather the Guidice family be related through marriage than be my enemy.

The thought has my dick trying to twitch in my pants, but now is not the time. Not at all.

I’m almost frothing at the mouth by the time I get to the office, park haphazardly, and race inside. I don’t stop when the lady at the reception desk tries to flirt with me. She can fuck all the way off.

I swing Mateo’s door open with so much force that it hits the wall with a loud noise and starts to swing back at me. My brother is visibly annoyed at the sound, the receiver of a phone pressed to his ear, but concern takes over his features when he looks at my face.

“I’ll have to call you back,” he mutters into the phone.

I lean out of my brother’s office and shout, “Massimo!”

Mateo stands up and starts to approach me, his hands out in front of him as if I’m a wild animal who needs to be handled with care. Oh, how right you are, big brother. Am I growling? I might be.

Massimo skids to a stop inside the office before glancing at me and then Mateo. He closes the door before he steps in front of me and grips my shoulders. There’s panic in his eyes, something I feel in the deepest parts of my soul.

He gives me a little shake. “Why aren’t you watching Viola? You should be watching her,” he gets louder with every word.

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