Page 4 of Stolen By the Enemy

Next, I call my housekeeper, asking that she set up the beach house. I bought that house a year ago, and it’s the one place that no one else is aware of, not even Carlos.

I know that I can keep Grazia there until I figure out exactly how I’m going to use her to bring her brothers to play in my court.

It’s finally time for me to focus on my own needs, now that I’m no longer using all of my resources to make my cousin even richer.

No more eating the leftovers from Carlos’ table.

I am just as capable– if not more so– and I know that I can make these deals work.

These people think that the orphan is supposed to beg for his whole life, but I am done with that narrative.

I don’t need to have parents now.

I am a grown man, and it’s time I start living the life of a grown man and taking what is rightfully mine.

Chapter Two

Grazia

As I open my eyes, I have a strange feeling, like the bed I’m in is moving.

I groan, feeling sick already.

My head is pounding so hard I can barely open my eyes, and I doubt I can think straight, but I do know that the alcohol at Luca’s wedding was flowing, and I was taking full advantage of that.

That is likely why I feel like this.

All of my feelings about my brother’s wedding to my best friend made me act like a whole different person.

It was a tough experience for me.

Emelia and I had been friends since we were children, and her lying to me about sleeping with my brother had made me so angry.

Over the last few weeks, I’d done so many out-of-character things that I almost didn’t recognize myself.

I have always been the “kind” Baldini, the one that everyone came to for advice and affection.

Over the past few months, Emelia and my brother have turned me into a stranger, both to myself and to those around me.

Even now, I a rush of anger at Emelia for lying to me, and at my brother for keeping me in the dark and trusting Emelia more than he trusts me.

I got so drunk at the wedding to avoid feeling anything about how much it was going to change things for me—for us as a family.

I sit up and look around me, needing some water, but my mouth hangs open as I realize that I’m in a plane…and it’s in the air!

I hold onto my head as I struggle to remember…the wedding… drinking… lots of drinking… dancing… Marco… kissing… my room…a gun!

Shit. Shit. Shit!

It all comes back to me in a flood of memories.

I remember now that I took Marco up the stairs, and I remember being in my room about to strip down for the hunky Mexican in front of me.

The way his pecs seem to want to burst out of his button-down shirt and the tattoos that crawl up his tan neck…something about him just makes my knees weak.

I also remember being surprised by his gun pointed right at my head. I should have been more careful. I let him in my room.

I let my guard down with him. But I honestly did not expect our invited guests to try and kidnap me.

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