Page 30 of Savage Don's Captive

“Are you getting married?” Enzo hisses. “Because I’m running for fucking mayor and the last thing I need is another disas—“

“I’m not getting married, Enzo, and she’s not my girlfriend,” I snap, my patience threadbare. It’s been a shit few days with Alessa being a stubborn bitch and the Commission breathing down my neck about Marco.

“What’s going on, Dom?” Matt shifts, all traces of amusement vanishing as he leans forward.

I lay it all out—Marco Russo backing a RICO case against the Commission, refreshing their memories of who this prick is. Can’t blame them for forgetting. He’s nothing, a necessary evil tolerated because of his position. I explain, grabbing Alessa, his only daughter, hoping she’d roll over on Daddy’s hiding spot. Detail her resistance, how critical it is she breaks.

“If this is so important to the Commission, why not do it themselves?”

I scan the room, taking in my men watching from the shadows—they follow orders, sure, but loyalty runs deeper when there’srespect. “I don’t fucking know.” I exhale sharply, running a hand over my jaw.

“Look, you’re missing the long game,” I say, meeting their eyes with steel. “Getting made isn’t the endgame—it’s the starting line. This RICO shit? It’s leverage. I solve this, I get my button. With my button, I build my crew. With my crew, I expand our territory.” I lean forward, voice dropping. “In five years, Vince will be too drunk to lead. Paolo’s heart is a ticking time bomb. Fabio’s kids want nothing to do with this life. Who do you think steps in when they fall? This isn’t about getting made. It’s about becoming what I was always meant to be—the don who rewrites the fucking rules. Capisci?”

“So what’s taking so fucking long…why the hell hasn’t thisAlessatalked yet?“ Enzo’s forehead creases. “Better yet, why haven’t youmadeher talk yet?”

“Yeah, Dom.” Luca grins like the fucking asshole he is. “Why haven’t you?”

“Don’t tell us it’s because she’s innocent,” Matt jumps in. “Because from what I see, the only thing between you and what you’ve wanted for years is her. If she talks, you find Marco. Otherwise, you’re fucked.”

“Tell them, Dom,” Luca urges. I give him a look that promises he’ll pay for this later.

“I fucked her four years ago.” The confession tastes like ash on my tongue, bitter and burnt.

Now that I’m saying it out loud, I realize how pathetic it sounds. So what if we fucked once? It’s not like I’m suddenly a changed man.

I want to say the only reason I think about her is because she stole my fucking gun. How I’ve hunted her across continents in my head to get it back—too many times to count. How if I found her sleeping, I wouldn’t waste the chance. Wouldn’t bother with games. No, I’d press my weight over hers, feel her jolt awake beneath me. Let her mind scramble, fight to catch up. Then I’d wrap my hands around that delicate throat, watch panic bloom in those wide, pretty eyes. Watch her struggle.

And then?

Then, maybe, I’d finally stop thinking about her.

But no matter what, in my head, it’s always her underneath me. Her on top. Her on her knees as I fuck her mouth until she gags. That’s how I’ve seen her since that night. I do these things with a vengeance. And in my sick, fucked-up mind, she begs for it. I see her in every woman since. It’s always her green eyes staring back when I close mine.

Her red hair I want to pull. Her voice I want to hear break.

“You’re letting a one-night stand ruin everything you’ve worked for?” Enzo’s tone cuts like a blade. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Tell them how she took your gun,” Luca adds, grabbing fruit from the bowl.

“You lost your gun?” Matt’s eyes widen.

“It’s been dealt with,” I growl, giving Luca another warning look. If this asshole doesn’t shut his trap, I’ll put a hole in his fucking leg so his doctor girlfriend has something to work on.

“She accidentally shot him too.”

“Goddammit, Luca!”

“What?” He looks up, looking innocent. “She did. You’re limping. They were gonna ask anyway.”

“I’ve always wanted to shoot you myself, brother.” Matt bursts out laughing. I turn to see Enzo grinning too. “Yet some woman beat me to it… accidentally, no less.”

“How long have you had her?” Thank Christ for my youngest brother’s question, or I might’ve put Matt’s teeth through the back of his skull, and Gabriella would have two patients.

“Three days.”

“Three days and she still hasn’t talked? Don’t tell me the great Dominic Gianelli’s gone soft for Marco Russo’s daughter.”

“I haven’t,” I snarl. “She’s in her room. Hasn’t left since I put her there.”

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