Page 8 of Savage Prince

“Condom?” I whisper against his lips.

He pulls one from his wallet with his unoccupied hand as I free his cock. He’s hard as hell, cum already glistening on the tip as I stroke his shaft.

The sharp crackle of a twig snapping sends my eyes leaping over his shoulder.

“What was that?” He drops the condom on the ground and mutters a curse.

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Still, I scan the darkness, in search of what I have no idea. “It’s probably just another couple hooking up.”

He glances over his shoulder, eyes wide. “Maybe we shouldn’t…”

“Are you serious?” I release his cock and glare up at him.

Another crackle, closer now. A hint of unease sparks low in my spine, and I reach for my purse. Luckily, Dolce is always ready.

“I’m married,” he blurts as he stuffs his dick back into his jeans.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I hiss.

“Mi dispiace.” He takes off through the woods, racing toward the sound of the music.

“Yeah, I’m sorry too,coglione.” Tugging up my panties with one hand, I keep the other tight around my purse. Gun laws in Italy aren’t as lax as they are in the U.S., and I don’t want to risk just anyone seeing me swinging my Glock around.

Narrowing my eyes, I scan the darkness once more, but all I can make out is a whole bunch of nothing. Heaving out a breath,I turn toward the clearing. I just hope Alessia had better luck than I did.

CHAPTER 5

CONSUMED WITH REVENGE

Antonio

“Cazzo, merda, porca puttana!” Every hissed curse only intensifies the burning rage as I stumble around in the darkness. The pounding bass thrumming through the woods worsens the oncoming headache, but I have no choice except to move toward the sound. I came all the way to fucking Milano, trailing after my traitorous brother and his little mafia princess in hopes of catching them off guard.

But damned Raffa, he never leaves Isabella’s side.

Not to mention the army of security he’s amassed around her. Attempting to infiltrate his defenses would be like trying to penetrate the damned Vatican in Rome.

Merda, I should have sent one of my men instead of coming myself. My trip to the city last week had proven fruitless, trailing Serena Valentino to gather intel. The only thing I’d determined was that Isabella and her cousins would be here this weekend. That and the blonde heiress was still as beautiful as I’d remembered. When she caught me following her at the rooftopbar by the Duomo, I’d been so tempted to snatch her on the spot. But that was not the plan…

If I had any hopes of this working, I had to play it smart, but it was nearly impossible to keep the emotions out and focus on the logical. No, not when this was so personal. I must have revenge at my own hands. It’s the only way to extinguish the burning hatred devouring my soul.

My vision begins to darken, and the acrid scent of smoke fills my nostrils. Squeezing my eyes closed in a vain attempt to drive back the grisly memories, I stagger forward and stumble into a tree. Leaning against the rough bark, I’m pulled into the past despite my best efforts.

Flames roar around me, a beast uncaged, devouring everything in its path. I push through the smoke, my breath ragged, my eyes stinging. The heat sears my skin, but I can't stop; not yet. I'm looking for him—my father, the man who built this empire from the ground up. The villa, our family home, is collapsing around me, timber and memories falling to ashes.

I find him in his study, the place where he made his most ruthless decisions. The flames haven't reached him yet, but it's too late. He's slumped over his desk, laying in a pool of his own blood, a still figure in the chaos. My heart clenches—relief, pain, a twisted grief that has no name. He's gone, truly gone. I reach for him, my skin blistering as I pull him into my arms, trying to feel the pulse of a heartbeat I know I won't find.

Papàis—was not a good man. Even I am not blind enough not to see it, but he was still my father. And he did not deserve this… A dark voices leeches through my muddled thoughts.Didn’t he though? After everything he did? I grit my teeth, ignoring the traitorous musings. What he did to Raf was to teach him a lesson, much like he’s done for me. He taught meeverything, how to not only survive but also thrive in this cruel world.

The fire licks at my back, greedy and unrelenting. I'm burned, my skin a map of pain, but I can't feel it—not really. It's the weight ofPapà’s stillness that crushes me. We need to get out, both of us, or be lost to the flames. I stagger toward the exit, his weight in my arms a heavy reminder of everything we've been through. The heat is unbearable, a hellfire that consumes all it touches.

I carry him out of the study, the flames engulfing the hallway. Thick smoke curls in every corner, devouring our home. My lungs are so tight I can barely breath, but I continue on, my feet moving on autopilot. I cannot see an inch beyond my nose the smoke is so dense and suffocating.

Somehow, I make it out. The cool night air hits my charred skin, a harsh contrast to the inferno behind me. I collapse, the ground hard and unforgiving, my father's body beside me. I've escaped, but at what cost? The villa is nothing but a fiery skeleton, a tomb for my father's sins and sacrifices.

And I, the son of a fallen capo, am left with the ashes of an empire, burned but not yet broken.

I blink quickly, chasing away the dark memories, the pungent odor of smoke still infiltrating my senses. Pushing myself off the trunk of the old oak, I weave through the thick copse of trees with renewed purpose. “I will have my vengeance,Papà, I swear it.”

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