Page 28 of Breeding Justice

I met his gaze, refusing to blink. “We want Sebastian safe. That’s all.” My voice cracked slightly on the last word, and I hated myself for it.

“Sebastian will be safe,” Vito said, leaning back in his chair. “When he is back with his family.”

The room went silent, the kind of silence that makes your ears ring. My pulse thudded in my chest, loud enough that I sworeeveryone could hear it. I wondered if Vito could smell the desperation rolling off me.

Dante leaned forward, his voice cutting through the tension. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’re here to talk, to find common ground.”

“Talk, then,” Vito said, his tone cold and dismissive.

Dante launched into our pitch, every word carefully chosen, his tone steady. I tried to listen, to focus, but my mind kept drifting. SJ. Justice. Bash. Skylar. Every name felt like a knife twisting in my gut. Every second felt like a countdown to something I couldn’t stop.

When Dante finished, all eyes turned to Vito. He let the silence stretch, his lips curving into a thin, predatory smile. “This was the easy part,” he said. “Now let’s see how well you handle the real conversation.”

Vito leaned forward, his bony hands clasping together on the table. The movement drew my eyes, and I noticed how thin his fingers were—like the skeletal remains of a man who should’ve died years ago but clung to life through sheer spite. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried enough weight to silence the room.

“Let’s not waste time,” he said, his words deliberate and sharp. “Justice, Bash, Skylar. Their situation is...precarious. Alive fornow, but that could change depending on your cooperation, Hassan.”

My name falling from his lips made my skin crawl. He said it like he owned it, like it was his to twist and play with. My pulse quickened as I forced myself to hold his gaze, my hands balling into fists under the table. “We just want them back,” I said, my voice tight. “You know we’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes,” Vito repeated, his mouth curling like he was savoring the taste of the words. “Do you even understand what that means? Justice was lucky. A shoulder wound can be fatal if it hits the artery, but our man is skilled. He made sure it was just painful enough to send a message.”

The words hit me like a slap. Justice’s face flashed in my mind—her dark hair matted with blood, her eyes dim with pain. My vision blurred at the edges, and my grip on the table tightened, knuckles straining white. I had to breathe. Steady. Keep steady. Don’t let him see.

“Vito,” Dante said, his tone still smooth, but with a sharper edge now. “We understand the message. There’s no need to elaborate.”

“I think there is. I’m meeting you in person as a courtesy, Moretti, but know this. If you don’t give me my grandson soon, I will kill them all. I will start with Skylar, go on to Bash, and I’ll make Justice watch all of it. And I’ll kill her too—but only afterI’ve broken her. You have twenty-four hours. Give me Sebastian, or things will get very nasty. This meeting is over.”

Maybe the meeting was over. But this man had pissed me the fuck off, and as he got up from his shirt brusquely, all I could think was that this had just started.

And Vito De Luca was going to pay.

Chapter Twelve: Justice

The sting of the ropes bit into my wrists, and the dull, throbbing ache in my shoulder dragged me fully awake. The room was small and damp, lit by a single flickering bulb overhead. I tested the bindings, wincing as the coarse rope grated against my raw skin. Skylar, Bash, SJ—were they safe? Had Bash gotten away?

I pushed the questions aside. Thinking about what I couldn’t control was a waste of time. My immediate danger was all-consuming, gnawing at my composure like a living thing. I took a deep breath, then another, trying to steady myself. The air was thick with mildew, each inhale like sucking in wet cotton.

My eyes darted around the room. Cracks webbed across the concrete walls, and water dripped from the ceiling in an agonizingly slow rhythm. I strained my ears for any sound from outside—a car, footsteps, voices—but all I got was silence. Thekind of heavy, oppressive silence that made time lose meaning. I didn’t know how long I’d been here, but it didn’t matter. Every second felt like an eternity.

A sharp metallic clank echoed, and my heart jumped into my throat. The heavy door creaked open, and a tall, wiry man walked in. His self-satisfied grin made my stomach turn. He tossed a chair into the center of the room and dragged it under the bulb, sitting with his legs spread wide, hands resting lazily on his knees.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice oozing smugness, “looks like you’ve had better days.”

I said nothing, locking eyes with him. If he wanted me to flinch, he’d be disappointed. His grin widened as if my silence amused him.

“This could go a lot easier if you just talked,” he said, shrugging. “We’re not the bad guys here. We just want to know where SJ is, and what Bash is planning.”

I stayed silent. His words washed over me, meaningless noise I refused to dignify with a response. He shrugged again, the motion almost bored.

“Look, sweetheart, we know plenty already. Bash isn’t as clever as he thinks. The only reason you’re still breathing is because webelieve you can help us. So why don’t you save us all some time and—”

“Go fuck yourself,” I rasped, my voice hoarse but steady.

The guard chuckled. “Cute. Real cute. But seriously, we don’t have all day. Skylar is a big boy; he can take care of himself. You, on the other hand…” He let the sentence hang, its implication curling like smoke between us.

I swallowed the fear clawing at my throat and forced myself to stay calm. If they truly knew as much as he claimed, I was screwed. But this could be a bluff—a scare tactic to break me. I had to play it smart.

“Why do you care about SJ?” I asked, keeping my tone as neutral as I could.

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