Page 7 of Sweet Revenge

"Because you could be useful," I told her. "And I admit, because I'm curious. I find you interesting…I’ve never met a woman like you before."

She didn't respond, but I could see the gears turning in her mind. She was planning, plotting. And I needed to stay one step ahead.

The hours passed, and I kept Adriana close. We moved to a more secluded room in the club, away from prying eyes. I couldn't risk anyone seeing her with me and getting the wrong idea. Or possibly the right one.

"Do you have any other allies?" I asked, once we were settled. "Anyone else who knows about your vendetta?"

She shook her head. "No. This was all me."

"Good," I replied. "That makes things easier."

Easier for me, at least. But I had to be careful. She was still a threat, and I couldn't afford to underestimate her. But the night was wearing on, and I was getting tired. I’d have to decide my next move, and soon. Because something told me I may have just met my match.

Chapter Three

Adriana

I knew I had messed up. The moment Luca Capuzzo’s fiery dark eyes locked onto mine, I realized my fatal mistake. My mind, blinded by rage and the thirst for vengeance, hadn’t considered the possibility that the man in the VIP room wasn’t Carmine Capuzzo. I had only heard “Mr. Capuzzo” and assumed it was the monster who had taken my father’s life. But now, with Luca’s big hands gripping my wrists like iron shackles, I knew I was wrong.

Luca Capuzzo. The name sent shivers down my spine. I had heard countless stories about him, tales of his ruthlessness, his proficiency as a killer, and his unyielding loyalty to his family. Many spoke of him as if he were the boogeyman, a specter of death that haunted the darkest corners of the criminal underworld, biding his time to take his father’s place as leader of the nefarious organization they ran. And here I was, pinned in his lap, with my fate hanging by a thread.

I was trembling with emotion, but not for the reasons one might think. The imminent threat of death was a distant concern compared to the gnawing realization that I had failed my father. My vengeance, the driving force behind every move I had made for the past four years, would never come to fruition. I had failed in my quest, and that knowledge hurt more than any physical pain Luca could inflict.

Then, to my surprise, Luca leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that, Adriana,” he whispered, his voice laced with a strange mix of admiration and amusement. “You’re batshit crazy for attempting to kill my father, but I admire your spirit.”

Before I could respond, he turned me in his lap, forcing me to straddle him. His strong hands held mine behind my back, his smirk infuriatingly smug. A jolt of electricity ran up my spine, feeling the solidity of his broad chest and the heat between our bodies.

“You know,” he said, his eyes dark and probing, “I know all about your father. Giuseppe Gorga was a miserable drunk and a terrible gambler. He liked to bet poorly and then skip out on paying. He suffered the appropriate consequences by failing to live up to his obligations.”

Anger flared within me, hot and consuming. I tried to headbutt him, desperate to get away, but he only laughed, the sound low and mocking. “Feisty, aren’t we?” he chuckled.

I cursed myself for my rashness, for allowing emotions to cloud my judgment. I should have been more careful, more strategic. But now, here I was, caught in the clutches of the son of the man I had hoped to destroy. And yet, despite the anger and fear that warred within me, I couldn’t deny the strange attraction I felt toward Luca. He was powerful, confident, and undeniably smart, traits that instantly gained my respect and admiration. He was also the most attractive, sexiest man I had ever met. I was surprised that he didn’t kill me immediately after I made the attempt on his life or ordered one of his goons to take care of me. If our positions had been reversed, I would have acted swiftly and without hesitation to eliminate the threat. I found my curiosity piqued as to why he hadn’t done so.

Luca leaned in closer, his eyes boring into mine. “I’m not going to kill you. At least, not yet,” he said, as though reading my thoughts. “I want to see how far your spirit will go.”

He snapped his fingers suddenly, and a guard stepped from the shadows, his presence a stark reminder of the power Luca wielded. “Tie her up and take her to my place. Don’t take your eyes off her. I’ll be there as soon as I finish business here,” Luca ordered.

The guard grabbed me roughly, pulling me to my feet and binding my hands with a length of rope. As he escorted me down a back staircase and out of the club towards a black Escalade at the far end of a dimly lit parking lot, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was still a way out of this. Perhaps I could offer Luca something in exchange for my life? Would sex entice him, like it had done with Vince? No, Luca had access to the most beautiful and attractive women already. That by itself wouldn’t work; the man was much too savvy to fall for that trick. Could I offer him a deal of some sort? But what did I have to barter with?

As the enforcer pushed me into the vehicle and covered my head with a sack, plunging me into darkness, I racked my brain, trying to come up with a plan. I had no idea how much time passed as we drove, but when the Escalade rolled to a stop and my abductor cut the ignition, I still had nothing. However, I was smart and creative. My brain was my greatest asset, as well as my determination. Luca had made a mistake by not killing me. Each second that ticked by gave me more time to think, to plan. If there was a way I could escape with my life, I would find it. And then I’d start over, spending every waking minute of the remaining time I had on earth working towards one goal: vengeance. I would kill Carmine Capuzzo, or I’d die trying.

***

The car door opened, and the guard dragged me out of the vehicle, his grip tight and unforgiving. Suddenly the sack was lifted off my head and I gasped. Cold night air filled my lungs, and I gulped in breaths as though I’d been drowning. My eyes squinted in the darkness, trying to adjust to what little light there was to make out my surroundings. We were in a forested area, completely unfamiliar to me. I could see nothing around us but the thick trunks and arched branches of tall trees. Had Luca lied about taking me to his home? Was that some sort of code, and he’d really been directing his goon to kill me in some remote place out of the city where my body would never be discovered?

My kidnapper shoved me between my shoulder blades, pushing me around a cluster of trees and onto a stone path I hadn’t seen before. The hairs on the backs of my arms stood up as I walked, possibly to what would become my own grave. Suddenly, I spied the rooftops of a structure ahead. It was a mansion rather, an imposing structure that spoke of wealth and power. It was unlike any place I had ever seen before, a stark contrast to the rundown apartment where I had spent my childhood. So, Luca had been speaking the truth after all.

We approached an iron gate. The guard stopped to press the buttons of a digital keypad, and the gates swung open, revealing the full exterior of the structure. It was a mix of old-world elegance and modern luxury, with towering columns, ornate wrought-iron gates, and manicured lawns that stretched as far as the eye could see. The windows were tall and arched, their frames gilded and gleaming in the low light. It was a palace, a fortress, and I felt a chill run down my spine as we approached the massive wooden entry doors.

The guard pushed them open, revealing an interior that took my breath away. The entry hall was vast, with a high, coffered ceiling adorned with intricate frescoes. A grand staircase with a polished marble balustrade spiraled up to the upper floors, its steps wide enough for two people to walk side by side. The floors were a gleaming expanse of marble, inlaid with gold and silver patterns that caught the light and shimmered like stars.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their prisms scattering the moonlight coming in from the windows in a thousand directions. The walls were lined with rich, dark wood paneling, interspersed with tapestries and paintings that looked like they belonged in a museum. Every detail screamed opulence and power, from the gilded moldings to the plush, Persian rugs that softened each step.

The guard led me through the entry hall and down a corridor lined with tall, arched windows draped in heavy velvet curtains. We passed several rooms, each appearing more lavish than the last. One was a library, its walls lined with shelves that reached the ceiling, filled with leather-bound volumes. Another was a sitting room, furnished with antique sofas and chairs upholstered in rich fabrics, a grand piano standing in one corner.

Finally, we reached a room at the end of the corridor, and the guard pushed open the door, revealing what could only be described as a study. It was an elegant space, dominated by a massive mahogany desk and surrounded by bookshelves filled with more volumes and curios. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling, and a large, ornate fireplace took up one side of the room, its mantel adorned with priceless artifacts.

The guard pulled a chair to the center of the room and tied me to it, his hands quick and efficient. I took in my surroundings, trying to distract myself from the fear gnawing at my insides. The chair I was tied to was heavy and old, made of dark wood with intricate carvings. It felt sturdy and unyielding, much like the man who owned this mansion.

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