Page 39 of Savage Prince

“Tonio!”

I blink quickly, banishing the grisly thoughts of the past and meet pale gray eyes. Mariuccia stands over me, horror written across her features as her gaze pivots between my own and the poker protruding from Otto’s face. It seems as if she’s moving and speaking in slow motion. “Tonio, you must get up. I will call Pietro and have him send someone.”

She helps me stand and the scene coalesces around me, back to normal speed. I nod slowly at Mariuccia, then watch as she marches out of the room. I finally hazard a glance over my shoulder to faceher. I promised she’d be okay, told her she would be safe as long as Dante came through. Now her father is MIA and one of my own damned men had tried to rape her.

Her eyes meet mine, the range of emotions streaking through the brilliant sky blue indecipherable. A spiral of rage, fear and something else… something I can’t quite pin down surges to the surface. She jerks her shirt down—no, my shirt, she’s still sleeping in my shirt, stretching it until it covers her legs.

Thatbastardotried to rape her while she woremyshirt. How the fuck dare he? I wish he was still alive so I could kill him again, more slowly this time so I could savor every second of his agony.

I open my mouth to speak, to say what I have no idea. To apologize?

Cazzo, maybe.

But my phone rings and I jerk it out of my pocket. I don’t recognize the number on the screen, but I sure as hell recognize that country code. My eyes flicker to Serena’s for an instant before I press the call answer button.

“Pronto?”

“Release my daughter immediately, Antonio, or I will rain hell on you and everyone you’ve ever met. The streets of Rome will run crimson with the blood of the Ferraras, and I will let you live until the end, so that you can watch as I tear you apart limb from limb then beat you to death with your own fucking bones.”

CHAPTER 20

COMPLICATED

Serena

I’m in shock. I recognize the symptoms, the tremor running through my body, the icy chill surging through my veins despite the comforter I’m curled under, the muffled sounds, the slow movements, all of it.

Antonio’s wild gaze lands on mine, and instead of the terror it should bring after that gruesome display, I feel a tiny measure of relief. That dark glare grounds me somehow. Even the blood splattered across his face and dress shirt don’t ignite the fear it should. I just watched this man beat another guy to death and not just anyone but his own employee.

Still, I hold his gaze for an agonizing moment until his phone rings.

He rips his eyes from mine, dropping them to the screen. The moment he answers, I know who’s on the other line. Only my father could make a man like Antonio Ferrara, one still covered in the blood of his guard, go utterly pale in the span of a second.

Antonio clears his throat, the mask of calm he typically wears falling over his features and his color returns. “There is no need for threats,SignorValentino.”

I can just make out muffled shouts from the other end of the line. If I could only get my brain to start functioning, I would ask him to put it on speaker.

“Serena will be returned home safe and sound as soon as my demands are met.”

More screaming from the other end.

I can only imagine whatPapàis threatening to do to my captor. I wish I was in the right state of mind to enjoy it. But right now, all I can think about is what would have happened if Antonio hadn’t returned in time.

I tug the comforter up to my chin, trying in vain to dispel the cold that’s settled deep in my bones.Dio, how could something like sex which I love so much be used against me like this? I feel so completely powerless. I’ve never felt anything like this my entire life, and I’ve been held at gunpoint, shot at and chased more times than I care to remember.

But it was nothing likethis.

“Serena?” Antonio’s voice is surprisingly soft as he approaches me. “Your father would like to speak to you.”

Panic overwhelms me. He’ll know. The minute I talk to him,Papàwill know something is wrong. And Dio, he canneverknow. I’d take this secret with me to the grave. Serena Valentino cannot be seen as weak, and that man had me at my most frail. Worse, Antonio had witnessed it, too.

He presses the phone into my palm when I don’t make a move to take it, eyes searching mine. I shake my head, desperately. Brows knitting, his finger jabs at the mute button, then he folds down onto the bed, remaining at the very edge of the mattress.

“You have to speak to your father,” he whispers. “He wants to know you’re alive.”

“I can’t,” I hiss.

“Serena, you must. All of this is hinging on you.”

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