Page 87 of Twisted Games of Revenge

The engine kicks into gear, and Marco takes off up the dingy street. “What the hell were you thinking stabbing a cop,” he mutters under his breath.

“I didn’t know he was a fucking cop. I was thinking why the hell is this asshole forcing himself on me. There wasn’t a lot of time to think, he attacked, and I fought back. That’s what happened.”

He gives me a sideways glance like that was new information to him. He pulls on to the main road out of town, heading toward the boys’ mansion, and I assume he has been instructed to take me back there instead of my apartment.

“Marco, I know you’re angry with me for taking off, but I couldn’t stay. You have to understand that, right?”

“You pulled a gun on my girlfriend,” he huffs. “There are other ways to get what you want.”

I sit up a little straighter. “Oh really? Because I tried, and you all wouldn’t listen to me. Dani might be your girlfriend, but I’m your little sister. I’m the only family you have left and that used to count for something.” I blow out a frustrated breath, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. Fuck him and his snippy attitudetoward me. Does he even realize what I have been through tonight? How scared I was imagining I was going to have to deliver my baby in a fucking prison.

“Half-sister,” he rasped, the sound rough and strained.

Wondering what the hell he’s on about, I flick my angry gaze back to him and notice we’re not traveling toward the boys’ place like I originally thought. We’re turning into Enzo’s estate. “What the fuck, Marco, where are you taking me?” My heart is hammering in my chest as I stammer out the question.

“You should have married Alessandro when you had the chance, it was the safest option for you. But no, the little princess always has to have things her way.” His voice holds no emotion. It’s like he’s completely detached from this situation. And me.

As we fly past the guards on the gate, I glance over my shoulder then back to him. How did he just get through? “What are you talking about, Marco. You’re scaring me.”

He pulls the car into the empty turn circle, the tires crunching on the gravel, and kills the ignition. He turns toward me, his face contorting in anger, and I see something I never noticed before. It’s there in the way his eyes narrow and his forehead creases. I see a similarity that scares the shit out of me.

My throat constricts with fear. I already know the awful answer, a lead weight in my stomach even before I speak. All the pieces fit together seamlessly. This is the missing puzzle piece. Our mother working for Enzo for so long, his fucking hold over her for all those years. He had to have something over her, or she never would have put us all in danger like that.

“Why did you say half-sister?” I demand.

When he doesn’t answer me, I search for a way out, reach for the door handle trying to escape. But I’m child-locked in. “Marco. What did you do?” I cry desperately, sweat dripping down my spine.

“My job,” he snaps back with way too much bitterness and hatred toward me.

“You’re handing me over to fucking Enzo for a little bit of money?”

“No, Lana, this is just a business meeting. You have something he wants, and if you willingly give it to him, you can leave here without a fuss. For once in your life just do what we say.”

“You truly believe my cooperation will get me a free pass, after everything we know about this man.” I stare at him, looking for any signs of life. As I do, something occurs to me. He was at The Flamingo Hotel the night the detective was shot. “Oh my God, Marco, please tell me you’re not the one who shot Detective Carillon. He was our only hope, he was helping you,” I cry, knowing how dramatic I sound, but fucking hell, I should have seen this all along, and I didn’t.

A cruel smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, a chilling expression that confirms my suspicions. This isn’t my brother. “Stop asking questions you don’t want the answer to. Tonight is very simple. Just sign over all the Havardi businesses to me, and you can go free.”

Pain radiates through my chest, knowing what this is really all about—fucking money. “I already gave them to you, I don’t want anything to do with what our papa created,” I say sadly, knowing that was another mistake I made. I should have fought harder for them. Papa must have known Marco wasn’t his, and that’s why he left it all to me in the first place.

He grabs hold of my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I know you like to play dumb, but you know your word isn’t going to do shit. We have our family lawyer inside, and after you sign everything over to me, you can walk away.”

My car door opens, and I jump in surprise. There in the opening is Enzo, grinning at me like the crazy motherfucker he is. “Miss Havardi, how kind of you to join us this evening.” Hislips twist into a mocking smile, one that makes me want to punch it square off his ugly fucking face.

“Get out of the car, Lana,” Marco demands, a coldness to his voice that sends a shiver down my spine. Who the fuck even is he?

Enzo doesn’t wait for me to comply. He snatches my wrist and drags me to my feet.

“I think we both know this wasn’t my choice,” I snap back at him, bitterness and disgust dripping off my every word. This asshole played me. My own fucking brother betrayed me for him. Anger swirls within me like a tornado forming. Enzo’s grip on my wrist tightens. With all my might, I swing my other fist, connecting with his jaw. “Fuck you,” I scowl, pain now radiating through my knuckles, but it was worth it to see his surprise. To know I was able to inflict even the smallest amount of pain.

He tilts his head, looking even more deranged than normal, a hand running over his jaw where I got him. Then he clicks his fingers, and two huge men appear by my sides, taking hold of me in a rough grasp.

Enzo’s meaty fingers come to my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “That wasn’t very smart, sweetheart. You might want to start bowing at my feet like your mother used to.” He kicks my legs from under me so I’m forced to the ground, held in place by his goons so he can glare down at me. “Better.” He lets out a low dark chuckle, taking way too much pleasure in my discomfort. This is the real Enzo Moretti.

“You can force me to my knees, but I will never give you what you want,” I spit back.

Marco moves to stand in front of me. “That’s where you’re wrong. You have no other options unless that night you spent in the lockup wasn’t enough for you and you want to go back there?”

“See, I paid your bail,” Enzo says, “so you could happily be brought into my care. And all that shit with the dead cop will disappear into thin air and you will be a free woman. All you need to do is sign what’s yours over to my son so he can rightfully take his place at the top of all the Havardi businesses.”

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