Page 124 of Luca
“Nonno!” I shot to my feet, my heartbeat resuming in a wild drumming. My eyes flickered to two men behind him, guards I hadn’t recognized. “What are you doing here?”
He seemed tired, although healthy. He wore a wide-brimmed hat and an old-time suit with suspenders. He looked the same, yet paler than I remembered it. More sickly. His eyes were hidden behind aviator glasses so it was hard for me to read his expression.
I wanted to hug him, tell him how much I missed him. Apologize. I didn’t know. Instead, I remained still, waiting.
“I expected more enthusiasm.” He smiled.
So did I,I wanted to answer, but I remained quiet. My pulse fluttered as I waited for him to say anything else. To be angry. To hate me. Anything. Instead, he remained quiet, watching me behind those glasses that hid him from me.
“Did you come on that Italian mega yacht?” I questioned instead.
He removed his glasses and our eyes met.
“I did, bella.” My heart ached at hearing the word my husband always used on me. “Luca is in trouble, and you’re the only one who can save his life.”
ChapterForty-Nine
MARGARET
Luca was being held captive by Marchetti for the past two days.
Not only was he holding Luca hostage, but also Cassio, Luciano, and Sasha. If the Nikolaev brothers learned of this, Nonno feared it would turn into a bloody war. If I refused to cave into Marchetti’s demands, it wouldn’t end well for anyone. Including my daughter.
Apparently, Marchetti expects me to find where he’d hidden Luca and come to him, along with my daughter.
It was a trap. It had to be. Yet, like a willing lamb to the slaughter I went in search of my husband.
When I asked Nonno how he found me, he said Marchetti knew all along where I was. He hadn’t lost me for a single second. It was Marchetti’s mega-yacht that brought him to us on the Croatian island. Marchetti hid all traces of me and Penelope while he kept an eye on us, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
Well, he didn’t exactly strike. All along, Marchetti was biding his time. Reeling us in until he finally came face to face with Luca. He certainly knew how to play this game.
After Nonno had found me and given me the rundown of what had happened, he had put me in touch with the man who knew where Marchetti took men to torture them. Not even Nonno had that information.
So now, rescuing Cassio, Luciano, Sasha, and most importantly my husband lay on my shoulders. It fucking felt like a trap.
“This is the safe house?” I asked incredulously as I made air quotations around the wordsafe house.
Nonno’s contact nodded. The gray brick building looked like it had withstood World War I and II. And the name! What a freaking name for a torture house. He should really consider changing the name to dungeon chambers.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked. I had only just met him but he seemed worried about my plan.
“Yes, my brothers will help me,” I told him, while fear crushed my windpipe. At least I knew I was in over my head and called my brothers who dropped it all to come to the rescue.
“Good.”
I flicked him a final look. They called him the Bitter Prince. The illegitimate son of the Italian Don. If you asked me, he was the better son. He was more sane than his brother who was in line to inherit their family’s business.
Bitter Prince would help us and the DiMauro family would help him when the time was right.
God, he was beautiful. I could see why women fell all over themselves for him. Six feet five of muscle clad in dark jeans and a white button-down shirt that was in contrast to his skin. Those high cheekbones. Thick, brown hair. Eyes as dark as night.
He didn’t look Italian, but he had as much Italian blood as my daughter. His look was a combination of his father’s Italian descent and his mother's Asian heritage. His exotic physical appearance came from his mother's side. Some didn't think he had enough Italian in him to make him worthy while others thought that his physical appearance was a disadvantage, the idiots, but I disagreed. The man was gorgeous and his charisma was off the charts. He'd be a much better heir to his father's mafia than anyone else, in my opinion.
He gave me a side-ways glance, sending my eyes to his. “Make sure you keep your word.”
I nodded.
“If we get out of this alive, all the west coast shipments of my husband’s will be routed through your ports,” I told him. I hoped it helped him get what he wanted. “Also, Nonno wanted me to relay a message.” He waited for me to continue. “When you’re ready to take over and you need help, the DiMauro family will be behind you.”
