Page 68 of His Ruthless Obsession

"No." I slide back behind the wheel. "We do this smart. Quick and clean - get her out before they realize what's happening. Then..." I glance at Luca. "Then we make sure everyone understands exactly what happens when they cross this line."

The engine roars to life. Marco's already coordinating positions, Ray checking weapons. The night stretches ahead, full of promise and violence. And somewhere in that warehouse, Jazz is waiting. Fighting.

They wanted to use her against me. Instead, they've given me every reason to unleash hell.

"Let's go get our girl."

27

JAZZ

The zip ties dig into my wrists as I twist against them, the plastic cutting deeper with each movement. The warehouse air hangs heavy with motor oil and river muck, making my nose wrinkle. Broken glass crunches under my captor's boots as he paces.

"Keep still," the guard snaps, jamming the gun against my temple. His hand trembles — rookie mistake. These Mantione soldiers lack the polish of Nerio's crew.

That's probably how I was able to attack one and end up with a gun in my face. They know I'm not nearly as docile as they expected now.

"Or what? You'll shoot me?" I arch an eyebrow. "Your boss wants me alive."

A muscle ticks in his jaw. The bruise forming under his eye from where I headbutted him earlier gives me a spark of satisfaction.

"Shut up." He glances toward the loading dock doors. "Just because we need you breathing doesn't mean you need all your fingers."

Footsteps echo outside, followed by car doors slamming. My heart pounds against my ribs. The warehouse goes silent except for the lap of river water against the dock pylons.

"They're here," someone whispers.

His radio crackles. "Six vehicles approaching from the south. Armed."

"Positions," barks a gravelly voice — their capo. Bodies shuffle in the darkness as Mantione soldiers take cover behind shipping crates and rusted machinery.

The zip ties bite deeper as I struggle. If bullets start flying, I refuse to be caught in the crossfire while tied to this chair.

"Stop moving." His gun digs harder into my skin.

Tires crunch on gravel outside. Car engines idle. The temperature in the warehouse seems to drop ten degrees as everyone holds their breath.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," a familiar voice calls from outside. Not Nerio's, but one of his men. Tony, I think.

My gaze darts between the shadows where I know Mantione soldiers hide, weapons trained on the doors. The air crackles with tension thick enough to choke on.

"Last chance to walk away," a capo shouts back. "Or this gets messy."

Laughter echoes from outside. "Oh sweetheart, it's already messy. You took something that belongs to our capo. Did you really think he wouldn't come collect?"

"Fuck your capo!" Someone shouts.

"Last chance to release her," Nerio's voice carries through the warehouse. "Or we'll see how many of your men die tonight."

A hand fists in my hair, yanking me up. I want to snap at him that doesn't he know he should never fucking touch a girl's hair. But I don't think he would care.

I bite back a cry as Don Mantione drags me toward the center of the warehouse, the zip ties cutting deeper into my wrists.

"Unless you want the girl dead, you won't shoot." The don's gravelly voice booms across the space.

The loading dock door groans open. Nerio strides in, flanked by his men. His gray eyes lock onto mine, something dangerous flickering in their depths. His pristine black suit looks out of place among the grime and rust.

"Let her go." His voice is ice. "I have something you want more."

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