Page 35 of The Marriage Contract

“Yuh-yes,” he says, sounding terrified, which he should be.

“How did this happen?” I roar at him.

“They hit us out of nowhere. They just rolled up and executed a full assault in the street. We never expected them to do that. Flashbangs. Smoke grenades. By the time the mayhem was over, it was over.”

“It was over,” I repeat, shaking my head. “You should’ve murdered every. Single. One. Fucking amateurs.”

I end the call, then slam my hand on the steering wheel until my palm hurts. My cell phone rings a moment later. It’s Mother. She’s crying.

“Dario, oh, God, Dario.”

“Are you okay, Mother?”

“Physically … yes, but this isn’t about me. Have you made any progress finding Elena?”

“I shouldn’t have to find her,” I snarl. “Six cars filled with Morettis, two women needing protection. Why thefuckcouldn’t one or two units have focused on Elena? Is that so much to ask? Or is it because she didn’t knowwhich fucking fork to use?”

When I hang up, Mother calls me back straightaway. I know I shouldn’t take my anger out on her, but I feel like I’m losing control. I run my hand through my hair, my head pulsing as it floods with twisted and depraved images of what Vincenzo and his men could do to her.

“Dario,” Mother sobs down the phone. “Please …”

“Please,what?”

“Your father wants you to come home. He wants to strategize with you, he said.”

“I’ve gotmymen on it,” I tell her. “Men who will do the right thing. Men who would’ve taken a bullet to stop them from taking an innocent woman.”

“Dario—”

“Don’t act like Father cares,” I snap. “He doesn’t give a damn. I know how he feels about Elena. I wouldn’t be surprised if he arranged this himself.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Maybe I don’t, but I can’t stop thinking about Elena, our first kiss, our first everything, her sass, the last time I saw her.

“If your men are already looking into it,” Mother continues, “can’t you do more good by being here with your father? If you talk to him, he’ll be able to help. He said he needs the information you already have. You need to work together.”

I hit the steering wheel again.“Fuck!”

“Please, son,” Mother sobs.

“I’m on my way.”

Before driving, I text Paolo and Allessio with the same message.Do whatever it takes to find her. I don’t care who you have to hurt.

Father, for once, gives me his full attention as I pace up and down his office. It’s been thirty-seven minutes since I left the theater—one hour and twenty-two minutes since the attack. That’s a lot of time for a team of lowlife scumbags to do any twisted thing to a woman who doesn’t deserve it, who only ever wanted to help her aunt.

“You need to calm?—”

“If you tell me to calm down, Father, it’s the end of the Moretti Family.”

He swallows, looking unnerved by me for the first time I can remember. “Your men are looking into it, son. So are mine.”

“Theyshouldn’t have to,” I growl.

“You can’t blame them for prioritizing your mother, surely.”

“Can’t I?” I rage, pacing, slamming my fist into my hand. “It would’ve taken one or two men to think quickly, get into that theater, and ensure she was safe. Why didevery single manneed to focus on Mother? Or is that what you told them?Don’t worry about the girl who forgot to use the right fork at dinner?”

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