Page 38 of Mafia Heir's Broken Vows

Fuck.

I know there's a spare one somewhere in here. I empty drawers and cabinets until I find an outdated smartphone. I switch it on and swap my SIM card into it, shoving a paperclip into the tiny hole to pop the tray. It works eventually.

Enzo:

I have rallied everyone I can. Some of the other families are not happy, and your father got wind of this. He is not impressed.

Me:

Fuck my father. Marco has Serafina and Leo! I do not give a fuck who is or isn't happy.

Enzo:

How?

Me:

You tell me… your driver must have switched sides. There's no other way.

Enzo:

They must have got to him somehow. I'll check on his family. Has anyone seen him?

Me:

No idea. I got a photograph from Marco saying to come alone. The car tracker isn't moving. They got them right before the turnoff to the airfield.

Enzo:

I'll send someone to check the car. Meet at the warehouse.

I don't reply. There's been enough wasted time. I start the engine of my SUV. I hate driving it, but it's bulletproof and armored better than the popemobile. In here, I am almost invincible. They could still ram me off the road or down a cliff. Marco will have men watching me, warning him that I'm on the way. I can't be too careful. The plan might be to take me out before I even get there.

Me:

Leaving the house. I have three men from my security with me and five in a second car. That cunt will be watching us. He's going to know we're coming. There won't be any element of surprise. This will be a bloodbath from the minute we arrive.

Enzo:

We're about eight minutes ahead of you. And the others will meet us at the warehouse.

I check my mirror and the three armed men in my car. Can I trust them? I trusted the driver to take Serafina to the plane—and he was a traitor. I'm doubting my own instincts. I should have driven her myself, but I didn't want to say goodbye to them. I wanted to hide from the pain and protect my own heart. It was selfish, and now she's in trouble.

SERAFINA

The room is freezing cold, its exposed brick walls and raw concrete floor slick with moisture that seeps in from somewhere. The single flickering bulb overhead swings on a cord, as the wind whistles through gaps. It's off more than it is on. I hold Leo tightly in my arms, trying to keep his little body warm against mine. His fingers cling to the fabric of my shirt, seeking comfort I can barely give. The silence is broken only by the distant sound of dripping water.

Then—footsteps.

Slow, steady, each one closer than the last. Someone is coming. My pulse quickens. Is it Alessandro? Wouldn't I have heard chaos if he'd tried to get in?

The heavy steel door groans open, and Marco steps inside with the confidence of a man who believes he holds the world in his palm. His tailored suit is immaculate, his smile smug and sharp as a blade. He surveys the room like a king inspecting his kingdom, his eyes narrowing with satisfaction as if he's gauging just how much we're suffering.

"Comfortable?" he mocks, his voice cutting through the icy silence like a blade. I straighten my back, refusing to showweakness. Leo squirms in my arms, his tiny fists clutching my shirt as he burrows into me.

I glare at Marco, my anger the only shield I have against the growing fear. "What do you want, Marco?"

He tuts, shaking his head slowly. "Is that any way to speak to your gracious host?" He takes a slow step forward, his gaze never leaving mine. "I thought we could catch up. Talk about old times."

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