Page 119 of Luca
He was the fucker who stole our shipments. He was the man who got in bed, literally, with Maeve and slipped the news on the arranged marriage. It turned out that he was counting on succeeding Nonno.
He never counted on Margaret and me.
My wife, who left me without a second thought. If only she’d trusted me.
You should have trusted her too, a little voice whispered, but I ignored it.
Fuck that voice. Fuck everything. Right now, I’d find Guido and kill the motherfucker. For betraying Nonno. For betraying me. For costing me my family.
We captured Guido’s brother in Rome on his way to Marchetti. He was so fucking close, it made my heart pound with adrenaline. Or maybe it was just this personal beating I was dishing.
I smiled cruelly down at my cousin. I scoffed at the name in my head.
“I want to know where is your fratello?” I repeated. “I can do this for months. I’ll bring a doctor to heal you enough, only to continue again. Days, weeks, months of agony.”
He jerked against his bindings. “Will you let me live?”
The terror in his eyes told me he knew he wouldn’t get out of this alive. But I guess hope was hard to extinguish. Fuck, I knew it myself. Every fucking day, I woke up hoping today was the day I’d find my daughter and wife.
I held his gaze, but I didn’t answer. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. I didn’t pity him. I felt nothing, but I often wondered if I’d eventually find myself on the receiving end of torture. Maybe soon. Once Marchetti found out I had no way of fulfilling my agreement. Once he found out it was I and my bastard father who cost his brother his life.
“Last time. Where is your brother?”
When he didn’t answer, I started to peel his skin.
It took him another twenty minutes to reveal the location of his brother.
His reward was a bullet between his eyes.
ChapterForty-Six
MARGARET
Gentle waves crashed onto the pebbled beach in a rhythmic soothing sound. The scent of local flora fragranced the air. The voices of tourists speaking different tongues traveled on the breeze.
We had hidden in the little town on this island for two years. After I’d stolen the passport, a hundred grand in cash, and took the clothes and necessities, we’d been on the move. Once I landed in London, I ditched the passports, bought a car on the black market along with a fake ID for Penelope and me, then drove.
For the first three months, we were constantly on the move.
I had learned to live with a lot less. It helped that I breastfed so the main expenditure was diapers and food for me. It wasn’t until we settled in Croatia that I finally found a job. A guide to English speaking tourists during spring, summer, and early fall.
Our new home, the island of Silba, was a car free island unlike any I had ever seen or experienced. The first few months we were here, it was hard to get used to not hearing the hum of an engine. Now, after two years hiding in paradise, I couldn’t fathom living in a metropolitan city ever again.
I rocked back and forth sitting on the porch with Penelope sound asleep in my arms. It had been a busy day at the beach, and she had barely stayed awake during dinner. Stretching my back and careful not to wake my baby up, I soaked in the view of the Adriatic sea that spread for miles and miles in front of me.
It took my breath away every single time.
Life was finally good. It took some time. There were still days when loneliness tugged at my heart, but my baby was safe. That was all that mattered. We had our routine and my little job. I hadn’t socialized with the locals. The language barrier was huge, but a bigger setback was worry if we would be found. I didn’t want anyone else in trouble on our account.
A few locals walked by in front of our little wall that separated our house from the path that circled the beach. They got used to us here and recognized us. Although I usually kept to myself.
They waved with a smile on their faces, and I did the same. It was the extent of my adult interaction. That and my trips to the grocery store. They probably thought me weird, but I just didn’t want anyone to get caught up in anything in case Marchetti found us.
Or Luca.
A sharp pain sliced through my heart. As it did every time I thought of him. This baby and I were a means to an end for him. He put our daughter in danger. That was one thing I could never forgive.
Tilting my face up to the sky darkening by the second, my thoughts traveled across the ocean to the man who stole my heart. He cheated and connived, got me pregnant, then swept in as if he was my savior.
