Page 100 of Bloody Vows
"Feisty.” Sal chuckles, regaining his balance. "I like that. It'll make breaking you so much more satisfying."
I try to kick him again, but with my ankles bound, I can't get good leverage. He grabs me by the shoulders and shoves me back against the wall. My head smacks against the concrete, and stars explode across my vision.
"Enough," he snarls, and there's real anger in his voice now. "I tried to be reasonable. I tried to be civilized. But if you want to do this the hard way, that's fine with me."
Sal bends down, grabbing me by my wrists and hauling me upright. “Let’s go,” he snaps. “We have a doctor’s appointment to get to.”
I struggle as he drags me toward the door, fighting him every step of the way. Sal shoves me through the door, and I see four men waiting on the other side, hard-faced and silent, all in black fatigues. They surround me, one of them tying a gag over mymouth as they shove me down a hallway toward another room. Sal follows behind, and I twist my head around to try to see what he’s doing, but I can’t get a good look at him before I’m shoved forward again, another guard dragging me along the tiled floors.
I let out a muffled scream when they drag me into a bedroom, forgetting my promise to myself to be quiet and unflappable through all of this. All thoughts of appearing strong flee my head as I’m shoved down onto the bed, Sal on one side of the guards, directing them to handcuff me to the bed.
“Hands and feet,” he orders. “Cut her clothes away. The doctor will be here shortly.”
The men move to obey, and I writhe and fight, but it’s no use. They’re stronger, and with four of them, there’s nothing I can do. Nothing except twist and scratch and kick and finally try to bite as they cuff me to the bed, one of them pulling out a hunting knife to start cutting my clothing away.
“Better lie still,” the man growls. “Or else I might cut something that isn’t cloth.”
“Don’t harm her,” Sal orders. “Just get her ready for the doctor.”
The man looks disappointed that he can’t pretend that the knife slipped. That expression on his face makes my blood run cold as he starts to cut, shredding my clothes until I’m left naked and trembling on the bed. The air conditioning makes the room feel like ice, or maybe it’s just shock.
“Please,” I gasp, looking at Sal. I’m beyond pride now, beyond not begging. “Please don’t hurt my baby. I’ll convince Tristan to give you the territory. I’ll do anything. Just don’t?—”
“Keeping that bastard was never an option,” Sal says flatly. “As for the rest, we’ll talk later, Simone. Right now, you have an appointment to keep.”
He steps back, and I see a man walk into the room, elderly and thin, dressed in civilian clothing. He’s carrying a bag, and I shrink back, knowing instinctively this is a man I should fear.
This is the man who is going to take my child away from me.
And unless Tristan gets here very soon, there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
26
TRISTAN
The warehouse where I tortured Enzo still reeks of blood and death as I stalk outside and leave my men to clean up the mess. My hands are shaking—not from the violence, but from the rage coursing through my veins. Sal played me. He fucking played me, and while I was here breaking Enzo's fingers and pulling out his teeth one by one, that bastard was taking my wife.
My pregnant wife.
The thought makes my vision go red around the edges. I've killed men for less than looking at Simone wrong, and now Sal has her. Has my child. The child I barely thought about until I saw that test on the counter and realized how much our lives were about to change.
How much I’d already wanted them to change, while I was pretending that all I wanted from Simone was her body and her inheritance.
Vitto steps outside next to me, his jaw set. “So Sal has her.” His voice is gravelly, flat. I know he doesn’t care much for Simone, personally—that’s been easy enough to pick up on—buthe’ll do whatever I need to get her back. He’s loyal, and that’s what I need more than anything else right now.
“I need every man we have, every favor we're owed, every contact in this city. I want Sal found, and I want him found now." My teeth grind together, and I try to think past the black rage that threatens to consume me. “We’re going after him, and we’re going to get her back. And Vitto? When we find him, I want him alive. What I'm going to do to that piece of shit is going to take time."
Vitto nods, the threat of violence not fazing him in the slightest. "Understood. I'll start making calls."
I can’t stand still. Pacing, I send a message to Konstantin, to my father. The latter is the harder call to make—I can hear the disappointment in my father’s voice. The sound of a man who thinks his son has failed.
And maybe I have. I lost Simone. I lost our child. Maybe I was never strong enough to hold this territory.
Maybe she was right. I certainly don’t feel like I’ve earned it right now.
And regardless of what my father thinks, all I really care about right now is getting my wife back.
Before it’s too late to tell her how I feel.
