Page 59 of Sweet Retribution

I never told her that either, even though Marco accused me of it, I doubt I would know what love was if it punched me in the face...shit.

I fucking love her.

I stare down into her fiery dark eyes and read the passion, the understanding. She believes me. Her comment about the honeymoon, Tahiti, and love are her way of telling me she trusts me, and believes in the act we’re putting on.

I cover her hand with mine and squeeze, then make a show of pushing her hand away from me. “Keep her quiet, Marco, while Rossi and I check on the product.”

“I don’t think so,” Antonio says, putting his disgusting hands on Gia’s waist.

She flinches, and keeps her attention on me. I can’t look at her for fear I’ll melt into those beautiful brown eyes, and those pink lips that I want so desperately on mine. To see them smile and laugh again. As soon as we’re out of this hell, I vow to do anything to make those lips smile.

“I’m not leaving her alone with you until you deliver.”

“Send your other goons away. They can come back when Callista and I are gone.”

I nod to Tio and Lucca. They leave as we’d prepared for them to do. Rossi and I had agreed on one bodyguard each, not trusting each other.

“Vincent will lead you to them.”

This wasn’t part of the plan. Gia wasn’t supposed to leave my sight. I take a few breaths and wait until my pulse calms before responding. “I don’t know or trust Vincent. You and Gia will come too.”

Rossi shakes his head. “Her father didn’t want her to ever come in contact with the merchandise. She stays up here with me.”

Not wanting to show panic, I give Marco a curt nod and follow Vincent into the house. I trust Marco with my life, and now with Gia’s. He’s smarter, stronger, and more level-headed than Rossi. I have to trust he won’t let Gia out of his sight.

I listen for signs of distress outside while moving through the home. It’s eerie how perfectly normal it appears. It’s Sandra’s vacation home, an investment she made with Parisi and Rossi’s financial and real estate advice nearly a decade ago.

Through Lucca’s investigation, we learned Rossi has been using it as a cover, hence his odd relationship with her. It’s rumored to have secret underground tunnels where the Sicilian refuges hid, making it the perfect hideaway for human trafficking.

Vincent opens a door and flicks on a light showing a set of stairs leading to a cellar. I follow him to a wall of wine bottles where he picks up a bottle and the entire wall moves revealing the tunnels.

The stench and the sounds are what got me first. Girls, no older than twelve, are naked, laying on narrow cots, thin, frail, and scared when they see us. I want to shoot Vincent right there, but don’t want to panic the girls.

“How many?” I ask, feigning nonchalance at the sight.

“Fifteen here, two in our holding tank. Buyers are coming by tomorrow.”

“Show me.”

“They’re sold. They’re not part of the deal.”

“I want to see.”

Vincent lets out a growling sigh, then turns around. He sets the wine bottle back in its place, closing off the tunnel, then picks up another bottle, this time on the opposite wall. A smaller tunnel appears. This one isn’t as dark, and the cells contain a basin with running water.

The girls are dressed, and an empty plate and bowl sit near the openings. Grooming and feeding for the sale.

“How many more tunnels are there?” I ask when we close up the second one.

“That’s it.”

“Tell me about the one Rossi doesn’t want me to know about.”

“There ain’t none.”

I withdraw my gun and point it between his brows. “Show me.”

He doesn’t even hesitate, which tells me a lot about his loyalty to Rossi. “The bottles of 1913 chianti. Two other tunnels, both empty but can hold twenty. Forty if you like ‘em tightly packed.”

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