Page 74 of Stalk Me

The ice in my veins begins to thaw, replaced by burning purpose. Florence isn’t Boston. The Castellanos may think they’re untouchable in their territory. They’re about to learn what happens when someone takes what’s mine.

“How fast can you have the jet ready?”

“Twenty minutes.” Alexi finally meets my gaze. “But Kolya—you know how dangerous this is, right? Going onto their turf?”

I check my weapon, ensuring a full clip.

“They underestimate me.” I slide my backup piece into its ankle holster. My movements are precise despite the rage coursing through me. “If Mario thinks he can just take her?—”

“He’s her grandfather,” Alexi interrupts, still typing. “Legally?—”

“Legally?” I bark out a harsh laugh. “You think I give a fuck about legal? She’s mine.” The final word tears from my throat. “They stole her from my territory, from under my protection.”

“What do you think his angle is?” Alexi’s eyes flick between screens, coordinating our departure. “Lucia wants her dead, but Mario...”

I pause, considering. “That’s what I can’t figure out. Is he trying to eliminate a threat to Lucia’s position? Or does he want to groom Sofia as the heir?” My fist clenches. “Either way, it tears us apart. And I won’t have that.”

“You really think he’d kill his own granddaughter?”

“You’ve seen what these families do to protect their interests.” I check my watch. “Besides, Mario’s old school. Traditional. Having an illegitimate granddaughter surface now? It could destabilize everything he’s built.”

“Unless he wants to use her.” Alexi’s fingers pause over the keyboard. “Think about it. She’s smart, capable, and already runs a successful business. If he’s looking for fresh blood to take over...”

“It doesn’t matter what he wants.” I grab my jacket, shrugging it on with controlled movements. “She’s not his to take. She’s not his to shape into some perfect Castellano heir.”

“She might choose them,” Alexi says quietly. “If they tell her everything...”

“No.” The word comes out harder than intended. “She’s mine, brother. And I’m getting her back.”

The words taste bitter in my mouth even as I say them. Deep in my chest, a cold fear takes root. What if Alexi is right?

I turn to stare out the window, not wanting my brother to see the uncertainty in my eyes. Sofia had been alone when I found her. She had no real family ties, just her gallery and a handful of friends. Now, she has a whole dynasty waiting to embrace her—old money, a respected name, legitimate business interests.

What could I offer to compete with that? A criminal empire built on blood and betrayal? A life in the shadows?

My fingers trace the cool glass, remembering how her skin felt under my touch. “She lost her foster parents two years ago,” I murmur, more to myself than Alexi. “She’s been searching for belonging ever since.”

The Castellanos could give her that belonging—a grandfather who shares her eyes. Her cousins might have her smile and an entire family tree waiting to be explored.

While I... I offer possession. Control. The desperate, consuming need I have for her.

“You’re spiraling, Kolya.” Alexi’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “I’ve seen how she looks at you.”

I close my eyes, remembering her surrender in my arms, the trust in her gaze. But that was before. Before she knew about the cameras, before I drugged her, before her real family swept in to claim her.

“Twenty minutes until the jet’s ready,” I say, pushing away from the window. I can’t afford these doubts. Not now. Not when she needs me.

The fear lingers, an icy knife between my ribs because I’m facing an enemy I can’t simply eliminate. I can’t kill the powerful Castellano family. Can’t threaten or buy off her bloodline.

For the first time, I might have to let her choose.

28

SOFIA

Iwander through the villa’s winding corridors, admiring the ornate paintings lining the walls. Renaissance masterpieces that would make my gallery’s collection look modest. The morning sun streams through tall windows, casting long shadows across antique Persian rugs.

“Signorina, would you like some breakfast?” A petite woman in a black dress approaches. Her silver hair is pulled back in a neat bun.

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