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"Passerotta?" he looks at me questioningly.

I stalk past him, right next to Nestor. The soldiers move respectfully to the side. "You cut me," I state in an iron-hard voice that I don't recognize. "You kidnapped me. Twice. You kidnapped my sister-in-law. You killed many of our men." I aim the gun and fire.

Fuck,I love this woman.

Personally, I would have liked to see Nestor suffer, but if anybody deserves to take him out besides me, it's Scarlet. So I let her have my gun, and I nod at the three soldiers as she approaches.

I'm glad I showed her how to use one; her aim is true. Right into his foot. He howls in pain, which is music to my ears for all the shit he put her through.

"We need to go," Vito urges, still carrying my sister, who won't look at me.

"Are you done, passerotta?" I ask, holding my hand out for the gun.

"For now," she nods, and my chest swells with pride. I don't think any of the men see the slight green tinge to her complexion, or if they do, they probably blame it on her ordeal, but I know her better. She might have made it seem effortless shooting Nestor, but deep down, she's fighting guilt, even though it was just his foot. It doesn't matter, though; she's holding her head up high, and her shoulders are straight when she walks up the stairs. She's a true queen—and a savage in the making.

Once outside, I shake Enrico's hand. "I owe you."

"A helicopter will do," he grins, climbing back into his SUV, waving.

Fuck, I just might have to bite the bullet and send him one.

Just like the first time I met Scarlet, we hear sirens in the distance, but this time, she won't let me carry her. Not until we're in the car. Only then does she climb into my lap, sling her arms around me, and press her face against my neck.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

The car starts rolling.

"What about you?" Vito asks my sister, sitting in the row behind us.

"It's not my fault the assholes were waiting for us. And it's not yours either, Scarlet."

Scarlet lifts her head. "I'm sorry, Gigi. I didn't mean to put you in this position."

"What do you mean? This outing was the most fun I've had in a long time. Ever since my brother exiled me and locked me into his dungeon."

"My house is not a dungeon," I growl, because as usual, Gigi gets under my skin.

She rolls her eyes. "Metaphorically speaking."

"You want to see a dungeon?" I warn. "I can show you a dungeon. And I don't mean it metaphorically."

A small hand touches my cheek and pushes it so I face Scarlet. "It's not her fault."

"We'll talk about it when we get home," I tell her, before turning my head back to my sister, "you too."

The rest of the drive passes in silence. Now and then, I rub Scarlet's arm to reassure myself she's really there, pressing her against me harder, placing kisses on the top of her head. She doesn’t seem to be able to get enough of me, either. She snuggles as closely to me as humanly possible. Her hands have a death grip on my arms, but I don't mind.

When we pass the gate, Vito asks, "Now what?"

Now what, indeed. Carlos wasn't at the warehouse, but we have Nestor, who will most certainly provide valuable intel.

"As far as Carlos is concerned, we'll go back to the original plan," I decide. "Tomorrow, we'll make Nestor sing, in the meantime… I have some visits to make."

"Visits?" Scarlet asks.

"He's going to deliver the news that men died to their wives and mothers personally," Gigi says from the back.

A shudder moves through me. Men died because of me.