Page 21 of Auctioned Innocence
Her phone shattered on the floor, screen cracked like a spiderweb.
The Taylor Swift song still playing softly from her speakers—the soundtrack to violence that should never have touched her.
I stare at the images, memorizing every detail, fueling the cold rage building inside me.
Putting Anthony away should have ended this.
We should have known his brother would carry on the vendetta.
Stella whimpers in her sleep, disturbed by the tension in the room, and Elena soothes her automatically.
The sight of them—safe, whole, protected—hardens my resolve.
We saved Elena from Anthony.
I will save Sofia from Dominic, no matter what it costs me.
“We took down Anthony,” Mario says quietly, determination in every line of his body. “We’ll take down Dominic too.”
“Yes.” My voice holds a promise of violence that would terrify most men. “And this time, we make sure there are no Calabreses left to come after the family again.”
I meet Mario’s eyes, and he nods once, understanding perfectly.
This isn’t just a rescue mission.
It’s an execution order.
“Sir.” James Burton strides onto the terrace, tablet in hand. He’s everything a head of security should be—sharp suit, sharper eyes, completely composed despite the crisis. “I’ve got teams checking the lake house and beach property. No signs of forced entry.”
It makes sense they’d look there first.
The lake house and beach house are both isolated, private properties owned by the Renaldis through shell companies—perfect places to hold someone if you want to keep them hidden but comfortable.
If this is about ransom rather than revenge, those would be logical holding locations.
“That’s impossible.” Marco’s voice crackles through James’s speaker. “Someone got past our security?—”
“They must have had inside knowledge,” James cuts in smoothly. “I’ve got men checking the warehouse district too. Lots of abandoned buildings there. If they’re planning to moveher, they might be holding her temporarily somewhere less obvious.”
I watch James tap efficiently on his tablet, something nagging at the back of my mind.
As Marco’s head of security for the past five years, James should have noticed any breaches in their system.
Should have seen this coming.
“The warehouse district’s…” I pause, watching James. “It’s a dead end. They’d want somewhere more—somewhere designed for their…” I can’t bring myself to say it directly. “Their business.”
“With all due respect, Moretti”—James’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes—“security is my department. I’ve got protocols in place.”
“The same protocols that just failed Sofia?” I step closer, using my height advantage.
A flash of something—anger? resentment?—crosses James’s face before his mask returns. “We all want her back safely. Some of us have been protecting her longer than others.”
Before I can respond, Mario cuts in, “Enough. James, coordinate with my teams. Dante?—”
“Already moving.” I head for the door, my mind shifting to what I’ll need.
Weapons. Cash. A new identity.
