Page 55

"That should do it," the doctor says finally, patting Bugatti’s arm with clinical indifference. The bandage is tight, the wound cleaned, but the man still scowls as if he’s been gravely wounded.

The doctor packs up his supplies and gives me a short nod before slipping out of the study, the door clicking shut behind him.

Bugatti flexes his hand and mutters another curse under his breath before turning toward me.

"What next? We got the girl."

I shift my gaze to him, leaning back in my chair. "I'll handle her," I say, voice calm, measured. "You focus on finding Mother J’s son—dead or alive. We need leads."

Bugatti exhales sharply. "And the girl?"

I flick my wrist, dismissing the question.

"I said I'll handle her. Just make sure the old lady isn’t tattling to anyone.”

He studies me for a moment, eyes narrowing as if trying to read something between the lines. But he’s not foolish enough to push.

Bugatti nods, rolling his shoulder before turning toward the door. Just as he reaches for the handle, it swings open from the other side.

Enzo and Alfio step in, their conversation cutting off abruptly as their eyes land on Bugatti’s bandaged arm.

Enzo arches a brow. "Madonna, what happened to you?"

Alfio tilts his head, lips twitching in amusement. "You get into a fight with a dog?"

Bugatti scowls, pushing past them without a word.

Enzo watches him go, then turns back to me with an expectant look. "What happened with him?"

I don’t answer.

Alfio lounges in the chair across from me, his posture deceptively relaxed. One arm draped over the backrest, the other tapping idly against the armrest. Enzo, never one to sit still, leans against the bookshelf, rolling an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

They give feedback on their work and I nod absently, absorbing their words but barely hearing them.

“A wildcat,” I murmur under my breath.

Enzo catches it. His sharp gaze locks onto mine. “What?”

I glance up, tilting my head slightly. “How do you get rid of a wildcat?”

Alfio huffs a laugh. “Didn’t know you liked cats, fratello.”

Enzo doesn’t share his amusement. He straightens slightly, eyes dark with something more serious. “You just got out of jail, Vieri. You don’t need to get your hands dirty.”

The grandmother.

Carmela Fiore.

She's well-connected, and she has Lena and Vasco’s money. If one hair on that girl’s head is harmed, Carmela will raise hell.

I sigh. Maybe taking the girl was a mistake.

I'm still no closer to recovering my stolen diamonds.

But I can't let her go.

Not until I find what's mine.