Page 125 of Luca
A terse nod, then his gaze flicked to the car window where Penelope slept in her car seat, oblivious to what was about to happen. I trusted Nonno, but I couldn’t bear to leave her with him. Besides, Marchetti indicated he wanted to see me and Penelope. If my rescue mission went awry, I needed her close by.
“Good luck, Margaret DiMauro.”
He disappeared into the night without a backwards glance.
The hum of the car engine soothed my nerves. I dug out my phone and shot the address to Aiden. I’d need my brother’s help to survive this.
“Just hang in there, Luca,” I murmured. “For your daughter.”
Because I knew he wouldn’t hang on for me.
ChapterFifty
LUCA
Marchetti was holding back his punches.
Not that it fucking matter. I’d be dead at the end of it all anyway.
Sasha’s Russian curses alongside Cassio and Luciano’s Italian ones echoed through the dark basement. We’ve been here two… no, three days now. I was surprised the Nikolaev brothers hadn’t attacked and bombed this entire country to pieces. Grace and her husband’s friends nor Cassio’s associates wouldn’t be far behind.
Since nothing had happened, except Marchetti playing mind games with me, it probably meant they still didn’t know Sasha was captured.
“You really thought it was wise to lie to me?” Marchetti asked in a cold voice. “First about the set up and then fooling me into thinking there’d finally be a joining of the DiMauro and Marchetti line.”
I shrugged. “Honestly, you focus on the wrong things.” When he cocked his eyebrow, I continued, “You need to worry about your hospitality.” The fucker wore white clothes for this beat down. “And your pretty outfit is ruined. Washing out blood is a bitch.”
“Maybe I want your friends in the cell next door to see the damage I’ve done as I pass them.”
“Awww, aren’t we a bit too old to show off?”
He refused to be baited. Of course, why in the hell would he care? He had nothing to prove. My eyes flickered behind him to his men. Dante Leone and Giovanni Agosti, his two constants.
Marchetti, Leone, Agosti, Romero, and DiMauro - the five biggest family names of the underworld, of the fallen empire. The heads of those families were known as kings.
“Are you going to give them a turn?” I said, gesturing behind him to where the two men were leaning against the wall. “You know, for variety's sake.”
Marchetti chuckled. “You always were a stubborn motherfucker.”
“Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Blood trickled down my eyebrow and clouded my vision. Jesus, the guy barely started working on me. I couldn’t pass out. Not yet. I should have slept more before we went after Guido. Instead, I insisted on remaining awake for days.
Fuck! Hindsight was a bitch.
I should have planned this better. Or at least have taken a nap.
“You know, Marchetti. I’m not boastful, but I’d have to say my dungeons are so much better. Darker and scarier. More medieval. This one is just okay.”
I could hear Sasha’s Russian cursing from the cell next door. “Luca, shut-the-fuck-up.”
I snickered. “That coming from a guy that taunted his brother-in-law in church while kidnapping the bride.”
“Marchetti, why don’t you start on us?” Luciano attempted to pull his attention to himself. “I’m feeling unloved.”
“My grievances are not with you,” Marchetti said, not biting. “This is between Luca and me.”
“And if you kill him, this will be between me, all my friends, and you,” Cassio, always the protective big brother, hissed.
