Page 34 of Savage Prince

I hold Antonio’s phone to my ear, my heartbeat escalating with each unanswered ring. I’m embarrassed when that familiar gruff voice resonates across the line, and hot tears spring to my eyes. For a second, I was worried something terrible had happened to all of them. How could no one answer any of my calls?

“Who is this?” Tony grumbles over the phone.

“Tony, it’s me!” The humiliating high-pitched sound grates on my own ears.

“Serena, what’s going on?”

“Where’sPapà? He’s not answering the phone. Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine, don’t worry, kid. He and Luca were pulled away to an emergency meeting with one of their distributors ina remote part of China. Your mom and aunt went with them. I imagine they’re still flying.”

I heave in a breath of relief.

“What’s going on?”

Antonio snatches the phone away, and I throw him a scowl. “I need you to listen well, Tony. My name is Antonio Ferrara, and I have Serena in my possession. She hasn’t been harmed and if you’d like to keep it that way, I suggest you have Dante call me the moment that jet lands.”

“What the fuck do you mean youhaveSerena?” Tony snarls, the growl so enraged it bounces around the room.

“Just like it sounds.” Antonio’s voice is calm, icy cool in sharp contrast to Luca’s righthand man. “I have some demands I need met before I return the lovely Serena to her father. You have until midnight your time.”

“And if I can’t reach him by then?”

“Serena’s life will be forfeit.”

A gasp hisses out as I watch in pure indignation as the asshole who just threatened my life jabs his finger at the call end button. Then he paces the length of the room, his steps growing more agitated with each circle. As if somehow all of this shit is my fault.

“So you’re going to kill me if my father doesn’t call you back”—I glance at the clock on the nightstand and do the conversion math—“in six hours?”

He cants his head over his shoulder, putting a pause to the manic pacing. “Serena…”

“What? That’s what you just said. Are you going to torture me too? If I only have six hours left in this world, I deserve to know. There are things I need to do and?—”

He lifts a hand, cutting me off. The towering man steps toward me, the scowl carved into his jaw softening a tad. “I’m not going to kill you…”

Unexpected relief crackles over me. “Yet?” I blurt.

He drags a hand through his hair, the only response. I spend the next few seconds just standing there, leaning on my crutch considering the possibilities. He wouldn’t really kill me, right? Logically, it makes no sense. If I’m dead, he’ll never get what he wants.Papàwould destroy him and there’d be nothing left of the Ferrara name but bones and ash.

Consoling myself with the thought, I force myself to turn around and do my best to stomp out in indignation, which is pretty damned hard on crutches.

“Serena!” His growl echoes into my room which I’m only halfway across because who the hell knew crutches were so hard to navigate?

Ignoring him, I keep moving toward the door which leads out to the hallway. I know Otto stands in front of it, but right now, I’d rather deal with him than the man who just threatened to kill me.

“Serena, wait!” Antonio’s voice is close now, but I refuse to turn around.

Instead, I whip the door open and attempt to squirm by Otto, but his meaty hands clamp around my shoulders and slam me against the wall.

“Ow!” I squeal as the back of my head hits stucco and the crutches fall to the tile with a clatter. Damn it, that hurts.

Antonio is beside me a second later, cursing and hissing at Otto in Italian. “Che cazzo fai?” He glares down at the man with a look that would have most pissing themselves. Not me because I grew up in my dad’s household, but most normal people, nonetheless. “I warned you once, Ottavio, keep your fucking hands off her.” His fingers curl around his wrist and he twists it so far back, I wince at the sight. I wait for the pop of bones or at least tendons but Antonio releases his guard at the last minute. A tiny part of me is sorry he didn’t finish the job. Theasshole deserves it. “That is your final warning,” he snarls. “I’ve been more than lenient with you. The next wrong move will have more permanent consequences.”

“But she was trying to run away from you.”

“I didn’t ask for your excuses,” Antonio barks. “Are we clear?”

A hint of satisfaction swirls in my middle at his harsh reaction to the dickhead guard.

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