Page 53 of Savage Prince

Once I’m free from the claustrophobic enclosure, I stuff the Swiss Army knife into my pocket, crawl on hands and knees, gulping down semi-fresh air and peer over the siding. No other boat in sight. Dropping down onto my ass, I heave out a breath and search the skyline for the remnants of the villa. From this side of the hill, all I can make out is the dense cloud of smoke.

I have to get closer.

If Antonio really is dead, I need to know.

For Isabella.

Liar. An annoying voice in the dark corners of my mind calls me out. Weirdly enough it sounds a lot like my cousin, Matty. Shoving back the pointless thoughts, I throw my purse packed with first aid supplies over my shoulder and heave myself over the side of the boat.

I land on my good ankle, but still a twinge courses up my leg when the second hits the moist sand a second later. ThankDioI opted for sweatpants today which of course made me choose the sneakers to go with it. At least, I’d have some ankle support for the trek back to the villa.

Which I actually have no idea how to get to.

Luckily, I saw where Antonio had disappeared through the lush greenery, and I start off by simply following his path. Fromthere, it’s not hard to track the billowing trail of smoke to the grand estate.

Considering I’m still limping, I make it back to the villa surprisingly quickly, some unknown force guiding my footsteps. The familiar pastel terrazzos appear at a distance, and a gasp parts my lips. The beautiful gardens are aflame, the orchard, the towering pines, all of it, nothing but ashy remains.

Dio, I hope Mariuccia and Fabi made it out.

As I skirt the perimeter of the grounds, I search for any signs of the women. Not only are they nowhere in sight, but also, the guards that prowl the property are missing. They’re dead… they must be.

That unnamable feeling returns, my stomach sinking at the thought of Antonio. I should get out of here. There’s nothing and no one left. I can’t go to the village, but there must be somewhere else I could hide out for a few days. Then I just need to get a hold of Pa, and he’ll come for me.

I glance across the swath of destruction, the brilliant flames licking up the sides of the grand villa, and the open wrought iron gate at the edge of the compound.Go. It’s time to get the hell out of here.

Still, my feet refuse to obey. Just one quick circle around the house.

Mariuccia and Fabi were in the kitchen the last time I saw them. Maybe they got out somehow…

My feet are moving before I can convince myself otherwise. I skirt the outer edge of the property, sticking as far away from the raging flames as possible. Where the hell are thevigili del fuoco? It cannot possibly take that long to get firemen out here. I circle the terrazzo where I first chatted with Mariuccia as I sunbathed on the lounger, and my chest tightens. Nothing but charred remnants.

A pit of unease tightens low in my belly. I finally reach the easternmost side of the house and dread coils in my gut. The kitchen windows are blown out, glass shards strewn across the scorched lawn.

A figure catches my eye, splayed out on the ground, just a few yards away from the burning house. My heart catapults up my chest, and I’m sprinting before I realize what a bad idea it is, but the adrenaline numbs the pain.

As I draw closer, that pit of dread only expands. Black shirt, dark jeans and the head of wild midnight hair.

Shit, Antonio.

CHAPTER 27

A SLOW AGONIZING DEATH

Serena

I slide to my knees by Antonio’s side and fear lances through my chest at the deep crimson splotches across the back of his black shirt. He’s lying face down in a bed of violets, the scene absurdly beautiful in a chaotic way. Somehow, the fire hasn’t reached the flowerbed, but flames crackle across the lawn growing closer every second.

“Antonio!” I shout as I run my hands over his back, and they come away sticky with blood. I can barely make out the faint rise and fall of his ribcage through the back of his shirt. He’s still breathing. The amount of relief that courses through me at the discovery is embarrassing. “Antonio, wake up!” I shake him, grabbing his shoulder, and a faint moan parts his lips. “You have to get up!”

Blood warms my icy hand, and I stare at the deep ruby liquid covering my palm. Shit. Where the hell is it coming from? I search his back again, but with the black shirt and the darkening sky, I can’t find the damned wound.

“Listen to me, you stubborn, arrogantcoglione, if you don’t move your ass in a second, you’re going to be burned alive.”

His eyelids flicker open for an instant, and what I could swear is a smile parts his lips. Then he’s out again.

“You have to get up!”

“Go.” He doesn’t open his eyes this time. The word is barely audible over the mad pounding of my heart and the crackle of the roaring fire. “They’ll be back…”

---