Page 19 of My Sweetest Obsession
“You’re telling me a man like that can just disappear into thin air?” I shot back.
No one was that good. He was bound to slip up.
Alphonse leaned forward, steepling his fingers. “Yes. Look at what he’s already accomplished. The fucker had years to put his plan into place.Years.He planted a mole in your house and stole your shipments. Don’t forget he managed to blow up a fucking hole in your basement and take my daughter.” He paused, his words settling like a weight. “He’s been pulling strings and using you as his marionettes.”
“He’s not just hiding. He’sadapting. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s gone as far as having plastic surgery to hide his identity,” Dante interjected.
Alphonse’s eyes narrowed. “Surgery? You think he’s gone that far?”
“Without a doubt,” Dante replied. “He’s been biding his time, waiting until he had the full strength to build an army to take us out.”
“Or it could be that someone else is working with him,” Luca added.
Alphonse rubbed his temples. “If he’s building an army, or working with someone else, then we need to infiltrate his ranks, find out who his key players are, like the mayor.”
Tension radiated through my shoulders and neck as the muscles clenched, a painful throbbing starting behind my eyes. “You expect me to wait around while you do that, and I do nothing and hope this fucker doesn’t follow through with this threat?”
Alphonse shook his head, his expression hardening. “No. I didn’t say that. When I saidwe, I meant all of us. I’m trying to explain to you that we need a plan. You don’t understand how he operates, how he thinks. ButIdo.” He pointed to himself. “He wants my empire and will do whatever he can to get myattention one way or another. This ishisgame we’re playing. He’ll fuck with your head to the point of insanity, all while you’re left wondering what his next move will be.”
I started to pace the room, anger surging through me as I ran my hands through my hair. This was a nightmare beyond comprehension. I wanted my angel back safely in my arms, in my bed—to kiss every inch of her curves and caress her soft skin.
“Go back home, Nico. There’s nothing for you to do here.”
“And what are you going to do?” I shot back.
“Don’t question me.” He gave me a pointed stare. “We find him. We findher.I suggest you gather the other leaders and find every trafficking ring he may have in the States. I imagine he has more than one.”
He rose to his feet, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I’m not sure I like you yet or trust you since my daughter was taken while underyourroof. But I will give you the benefit of the doubt because I want to find my daughter more than anything.” He stepped forward, invading my space until we were inches apart. “But if you hurt her again or if she dies, I’m coming for you, Nico Moretti. I will slice your throat, cut you into tiny little pieces, and feed you to stray dogs. Do we understand each other?”
“Crystal clear,” I replied in a monotone. But deep inside me, a grin tugged at the corners of my lips. I wouldn’t put it past him to follow through on his threats.
Fucker was a notorious bastard. A man whose reputation for ruthlessness preceded him.
“Good. My driver will be waiting for you at your landing strip. Do your job and let me do mine and get the fuck out of my country.”
Iwas cold.
I shivered not just from the temperature but from the fear that had become my constant companion.
Nausea wracked my stomach.
The guards on their rotating shifts only served to heighten our anxiety. We survived on a bowl of rice served each day, which was barely enough to sustain us. Each day felt like a battle against my weakening body, and my clothes now hung loosely on my frame. Even the blankets failed to provide comfort against the relentless chill.
My cellmate and I had become each other’s solace in this darkness. The walls around us seemed impenetrable, with no obvious means of escape. I’d searched for any sign of hope, but there was no way to Shawshank our asses out of here. I would rather die than spend another minute in this hell.
A loud noise from the end of the hall startled me out of my thoughts. Heavy footsteps echoed, accompanied by the sound oflabored breathing. I didn’t recognize the figure who came into view. He had short, salt-and-pepper hair and a well-groomed goatee.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“You can call me the Puppet Master,” he responded, and my eyes were drawn to the jagged, crimson line that carved a path from his left cheek to his jaw.
His gaze flicked around the room, then back to me. “How do you find your accommodations?”
I looked at him with contempt.
“Great,” I retorted sarcastically.
I watched him carefully while he assessed me like I was some freaking lab rat.
