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“You fucking grounded her?” Luca chuckles .
“No. She can leave whenever she wants to eat. And if she doesn’t cooperate, she can die of boredom in there.”
“You mean she hasn’t eaten anything in three days?” Gabriella’s voice rises, thick with concern for Alessa and disgust for me. “She won’t die of boredom, Dominic. She’ll starve to death.”
“This is mob business, Gabriella,” I remind her. She’s amazing at her job, one of the most compassionate people I know—a fatal flaw in this industry, but admirable nonetheless. “You don’t work for her.”
“You told me to keep her alive,” she counters, fire in her eyes—the same fire my brother’s clearly trying to tame. Me, I find it fucking irritating, especially right now. “You’re making my job impossible. You want her alive for questioning, but you’re starving her? Which is it?”
“I’m not starving her,” I correct through clenched teeth. “She can leave the room whenever she wants to eat at the table. That’s not inhumane. That’s her showing some fucking respect in my house.”
“You kidnapped her. Drugged her. Tied her up in your basement for your thugs to terrorize. And you think she’s going to dine with you?”
“Whose side are you on, Gabriella?” My voice drops to ice.
“There are no sides, Dominic. You told me to keep her alive, and I will. I’m doing my job,” she fires back. “If you want me to leaveher to starve, just say so. Then I won’t waste time making sure she survives long enough to give you what you need.”
The table goes silent as everyone watches our standoff. I clench my jaw, meeting her dark glare. She doesn’t flinch.
Pure Giovani, through and through. I can feel it radiating off her as she stares me down, knowing she’s scored a point.
I push back from the table without a word. No one makes a sound as I stalk out of the dining room toward Alessa’s room.
Having a Giovani on payroll is a blessing and a curse—a blessing because she works without asking questions about bullet holes or black eyes. A curse because she thinks we’re equals, and she’ll run her mouth without fear of consequences.
I fucking hate it because she’s right. Alessa needs to be in shape for questioning. Time to focus on what matters. I’ve been busting my ass for years to join the Commission, and I’m not letting whatever this is with Alessa derail everything.
I stop cold outside her door, ice flooding my veins. It’s ajar. No one—absolutely no one—is allowed inside except her. I made that crystal fucking clear to everyone.
Hand shaking with rage, I push the door wide. The room sits untouched. Bed made, curtains drawn, bathroom door closed. Silence hangs thick in the air—no breathing, no movement, nothing.
The room is empty.
Alessa is gone.
Chapter eight
Alessa
Run,Alessa.
Fucking.Run!
These words blare in my head with a frantic intensity the moment my legs crash into the cold, murky puddle outside the wall I just scaled. The splash seems to amplify every fear, and every doubt, and the pounding in my chest matches the chaos of my thoughts. The world narrows to the sound of my breath, ragged and harsh, mingling with the relentless rain drip from the overhang.
Just run, Alessa.
I’m drenched from heavy rain and the T-shirt I’m wearing sticks to my body like glue on paper, and the shorts I have on don’thelp with the chill in the air. If I had known that I’d have the opportunity to run—to leave the fortress that is Dominic’s safe house, I would have picked up a sweater or maybe changed into something warm and comfortable.
When I woke up this morning feeling like I’d been hit by a train, I knew it was time for me to swallow my pride and start a walk of shame towards the kitchen.
My stomach churned with relentless hunger pangs, sharp and insistent as if my insides were gnawing at themselves. Dizziness and lightheadedness washed over me, making the room sway and spin in a disorienting blur. I struggled to focus, my thoughts fragmented and disjointed.
I had enough time to take a step back and assess my situation, to accept that I was a captive and at Dominic Gianelli’s mercy. Once I swallowed that truth and wrapped my head around it, I realized that I should choose my battles and save my strength for life and death situations.
I knew it was time to replenish some strength so I could be able to fight Dominic and his goons when the time came. And choosing my pride over food was stupid. I was ready to face the music and have a meal with the devil.
At least, that was my initial plan.