Page 72 of The Last Vendetta

As if I needed a fucking reminder that I’m the enemy. I didn’t want to know how Giovanni knew that I was sleeping with his son. My mother had caught on to a partnership. She’d gotten word of me riding with Renzo when the Greeks tried to hold us up on the road. If she could hear about my being near the enemy, it seemed fit to assume that Giovanni would also become aware of the situation.

Having me kidnapped to keep me away from his son didn’t sit well with me. Not at all. I heard how overbearing Gio was when Renzo let me listen in to the call in the car. That conversation told me enough about what kind of a dominant, control-freak sort of Mafia Don he was.

Maybe it was stupid of me to think that Gio could simply call Renzo and tell him to get me out of their villa.

Or maybe Gio knew better than to assume his rebellious and independent second-born would listen to him.

But taking me like this? I glared forward, letting my fury keep me warm inside.

This is bullshit. However, I could rest easier with the fact that Renzo had to be safe. Now that I identified who’d taken me, I could relax with the knowledge that Giovanni wouldn’t hurt his own son. Punish him, yes. It seemed the first punishment was to steal me right out of the bed I’d shared with him.

And still, I remained furious. All through the long drive closer to the city we both called home, I fumed. It was absolute bullshit for them to pull me out of bed the way they had. I wasn’t some criminal scum. They didn’t have to force me into this car and transport me like this.

What stung even worse was how I’d fallen asleep to the fantasies that I could believe in Renzo. That somehow, we would have a chance to be together. That we could live as a couple in the future. In that fantasy world, I’d be Renzo’s lover. His wife, even, Mrs. Giulia Bernardi as I lost the tinge of association with my mother by giving up the Acardi name.

I’d drifted to sleep with that dreamy vision. I’d get my sisters under his protection, and we’d be a happy family. And as Renzo’s wife, I would own these Bernardi soldiers. They’d listen to me. I would have the right to instruct them to do whatever I wished.

Not be carted around like a shackled prisoner.

Not stuck and silenced.

The entire drive back to the city felt long, and every time I shifted to get more comfortable with my hands cinched together with a zip tie, the guards beside me shot me a dirty look.

I lifted my hand to show them the middle finger. When one smirked, amused, I hated that I’d given him the satisfaction of seeing how irate I was.

Cool it. Just keep it cool and wait to lash out on them all when we get there.

It wasn’t a great plan, but I’d stick to it. As they transported me, I let my anger build up inside me so I could release it when the opportune moment came. It finally did. Parked at an entrance to what had to be the rear of the Bernardi mansion, the engine was killed and the men filed out.

Two of them handled my exit, but as soon as my feet hit the ground, I sagged. Letting my deadweight surprise them, I ducked lower to dart under their arms.

Unfortunately, another soldier was at the ready, and his tackling hold would definitely leave bruises littering my back and ass. Together, the soldiers got me upright and the new one carried me inside.

They went so quickly that I struggled to mark which way we went, but I realized where they wanted to leave me.

We headed lower within the house, not up. They took me down flights of stairs, not into furnished rooms.

In a dungeon-like basement, the asshole who lugged me over his shoulder stopped. Then he leaned forward and urged my body to slam to the hard cement floor.

I gasped with the gag over my mouth, and the quick intake of metallic-scented air worsened the rawness in my mouth and throat.

Pain ricocheted through my body, and as the dull throbbing radiated from the impact of falling onto my ass and side, I did my best to ignore the dried blood on the floor. The odors of piss and shit hung in the air as well, and I didn’t bother to wonder where I was.

They’d brought me to a cell. Likely, a place with no easy exits. Somewhere they’d previously tortured and killed countless others.

I wasn’t prepared for one man to step forward and slice off my gag. Another tossed a bottle of water at me, but I didn’t rush to drink it.

“Is this poisoned?” I snarled.

“The fucking cap hasn’t been broken, bitch.” The man who growled that stalked out of the room, shaking his head and complaining about how ungrateful I was.

“This is what I get for fucking him?” I asked the others. “Tortured and killed just because I slept with him?”

“Shut up,” one of them warned, glancing over his shoulder at the closed door.

What’s he afraid of? They’re just doing their job. They don’t care. They were told to get me and bring me here, and that’s that.

“Gio put a goddamn hit on me? Because some stupid old rivalry between our Families makes us the enemy?” I huffed, letting the water bottle drop off my lap and roll away.

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