Page 95 of Dangerous Devotion

“Get to the point, then,” Vince finally said, his voice cold and controlled. “What do you want?”

I could almost hear Zotov’s annoyance through the phone. There was a pause, and then he spoke again, his voice clipped. “Fine. Let’s get this show on the road. I’ll send coordinates for a meeting. Be there.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving us in stunned silence.

I looked at Vince, the barely contained storm of emotions behind his eyes—anger, worry, and determination—all warring for dominance.

Vince led me to one of the armchairs, sat down, pulled me onto his lap, wrapped me in his arms, and buried his nose against my neck.

I closed my eyes for a bit, enjoying the calm before the storm—his heartbeat against mine. And even though the tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife, somehow, the two of us as a team made it bearable.

He leaned back, stretched his neck, and sighed.

I laid my hand on his chest and watched his face as we both waited in silence for Zotov’s coordinates to arrive.

When the message finally came through, his jaw clenched, and he fixed his gaze on his phone screen.

I leaned in closer, and sure enough, the message was very short:

persuasion.scrambled.grabbed

And bring your grandfather’s favorite book.

What the hell? Was this Zotov’s kind of humor? Was he dicking us around?

Vince stared at the screen for a while until he suddenly exhaled, then dialed Dante and put him on speaker.

Dante picked up a second later. “Yo?”

“You told me a while ago about some kind of weird mapping system, where every spot in the world can be described with three words, remember?”

Dante hesitated. “Maybe?”

“I need you to find out”—Vince pulled up the message again—“where ‘persuasion, scrambled, grabbed’ leads to.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Dante said.

“Do I sound like I’m fucking kidding?”

Dante sighed, “Nope, you got it. Peaches knows about the system; it’s called ‘what3words’.”

I filed away that information to look up later since I’d never even heard of it before. It sounded very much like some weird spy shit. And I’d already had enough of that with the futuristic white pod Zotov held me captive in.

Dante whistled.

“What, where is it?”

Dante chuckled. “It’s Castello dei Pietra, Italy.”

“The Falcone’s villa in Calabria? Gabe’s villa?” Vince muttered, disbelief coloring his voice.

Vince’s eyes met mine, a mixture of confusion and anger swirling in their depths. Without a word, he ended the call and dialed Zotov’s number, putting the call on speaker.

“What kind of game are you playing?” Vince growled as soon as the line connected. “Gabe’s villa? Is this some kind of sick joke?”

I held my breath, waiting for Zotov’s response. When it came, his voice was cold and emotionless, sending a chill down my spine.

“No jokes, Salvini. If you want to see your sisters again, you’ll follow the instructions. It’s as simple as that. And don’t forget the book. I’ll contact you again once you’re there.”

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