Page 138 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride
Salvatore laughs, a cold, mirthless sound. "Sure you did." His grip tightens on my arm. "Last chance. What did you tell the Feds?"
I think of Angelica under the bed, of the tiny life growing inside me. I have to keep them safe, even if it means sacrificing myself.
"Nothing," I repeat, meeting his gaze.
His hand connects with my face again. My head whips back, and I drop to the bed, gasping, terror flooding through me. "Stop. Please."
"Wrong answer," Salvatore growls, grabbing my arm and dragging me up again.
My head still rings from his blow, but I force myself to stay focused to protect Angelica.
"Where's the kid and the maid?" Salvatore demands, his voice low and dangerous.
I swallow hard, tasting blood. "They're out. They won't be back until later."
Salvatore studies my face. I hold his gaze, hoping he believes me.
"Check the place," he barks at his partner. "Make sure they're not here."
He nods and disappears into the hallway. I hear doors opening, closets being searched.
"The papers," Salvatore hisses, shaking me. "What did the Fed give you?"
"Nothing," I gasp. "They were trying to trick me with fake information about my mother. I threw them away."
His eyes narrow. "You expect me to believe that?"
"It's the truth." I force conviction into my voice. "Why would I keep anything that could endanger my family? Roman is my husband now."
Salvatore's grip tightens painfully. "Your loyalty is touching. Too bad I don’t believe a single thing you’re saying."
Heavy footsteps approach, and the other man appears in the doorway. "Place is empty. No sign of the kid or the maid."
Relief floods through me, but I keep my expression neutral. They didn't check under the bed. Thank God.
"Good," Salvatore says. "Let's move. We need to be gone before Roman gets back."
I close my eyes briefly, sending up a silent prayer. Angelica is safe. For now.
Salvatore yanks me toward the door, his fingers digging into my arm. "You're coming with us. One sound, one wrong move, and I'll kill you right here."
"I understand, Salvatore."
"Smart girl," Salvatore sneers. "Keep it that way."
He drags me through the apartment, past the front door with bullet holes and a splintered door jamb.
I stumble on the threshold, and he jerks me upright, sending pain shooting through my shoulder again.
"Please. I’m cooperating.”
"Shut up," Salvatore hisses, checking the hallway. "Clear."
They hustle me toward the service elevator, away from the main lobby where someone might see us. My mind races frantically. Should I scream? Fight?
"Remember," Salvatore breathes in my ear as we wait for the elevator, "one sound and I put a bullet in your head. Roman will find pieces of you."
The elevator doors slide open. They push me inside, Salvatore's hand clamped over my mouth, his gun pressed against my ribs.
