Page 114 of Filthy Little Games

“Prove this isn’t a recording. What do I call you?”

“Micetta mia.”

I cover up the speaker at the bottom of the phone to tell Dre and Tristan,“It’s her. She’s alive.” To her I say, “I’m coming to get you,micetta mia.”

“Izaiah and Bertelli’s son, Bowen, were the ones responsible for the raid. Bowen also told Emilio when and where to pick us up,” she blurts out in a rush while Emilio curses in the background. Emilio must have admitted all that shit to her, which was stupid of him. Or Zara got him to run his mouth.

God, I fucking love her so damn much. Even when he’s doing no telling what to her, hurting her, she mined for the answer to a question that’s been eating at me for weeks.

There’s a loudsmackas if he hit her before his voice comes over the line. “You stupidMignotta!”

“Zara!” I shout. “Don’t fucking touch her again, or I will slaughter your entire fucking family!”

“Yourwifeis pretty beat up with broken bones and my son’s name branded across her chest that will be a permanent reminder of him. Things will only get worse unless you end it yourself and make it look realistic.”

I close my eyes, not wanting to even picture the horrible things he’s done to Zara in such a short amount of time. And it’s all my fucking fault.

“Well, Ferraro? Are you willing to trade your life for hers?”

“No fucking way,” Dre whispers.

“Don’t do it, Creed! Just find Oriana and take care of her forme. Please! We’re in Brooklyn at the construction office with only five guards!” The call ends in complete silence, her words still echoing in my ear.

“Cazzo!” I clutch my phone in my fist, wanting to throw it out the fucking window.

“It’s a setup,” Tristan says. “He’ll kill you and her both as soon as you walk through the door. It may be too late for her after she told you…”

I shake my head. “Emilio knows we’re married, that I love Zara and that I would trade my life for hers. But I know something about him too. He may never let her go, but he’ll never kill her.”

“You’re certain about that?” Dre asks.

“I am. So, let’s proceed as planned. She said he only has five guards with him. Just watch out for Zara, Oriana, and the nannies if bullets fly.”

“He’ll have them out of that place in seconds, before we even figure out which of the locations he’s at,” Tristan remarks.

“No, he won’t,” I tell him as I text the others to move. “Because we’re moving on all four right now. Try to take his men alive to protect the women and girl. They’re outnumbered, so this should be easy.”

Once we’re out of the vehicle and checking our guns, I turn to Dre. “If this all goes to hell, I know you’ll make a damn good boss, even if you are a grumpy son of a bitch.”

He flips me the finger, which is both ominous and familiar all at the same time.

Zara

“We’re leaving. Now. Bring them down and get them out the backdoor,” Emilio orders into his phone. As soon as the device is tucked into his pants pocket, he grabs a knife from the workbench and starts cutting through the zip ties on my wrists and ankles.

“If you try to fight me, I’ll drag you out of here by your hair,” the asshole warns.

I wish I had more strength in my body to fight him, to try to slow him down until Creed gets here. Unfortunately, I can barely lift my bare foot to try, much less kick him in the face hard enough to do any real damage with several broken toes. And who knows where Creed is or how far away? It could take him half an hour to get across the bridge.

But I know this is the only chance I’ll get to slow Emilio down.

So, once my second wrist is undone, I make a fist and punch him right in his throat despite my throbbing bent-wrong fingers.

Emilio cries out, clutching his neck and gargles what sounds like, “Bitch.”

I slide off the table on weak, shaky legs, dizzy and feeling drunk on the adrenaline caused by hours of his torment. Every little movement makes my raw, burning chest wounds scream in agony.

Instead of aiming for the door, which is where he wants me to go so that we can leave, I turn toward the workbench, grabbing the first object I can reach while he lunges for me.

---