Page 27

He stammers, his voice cracked. “I don’t know a name, I swear. Just heard it’s someone high up, passing your plans to the Gallos.”
I grab his jaw, forcing his eyes to mine. “Details,” I growl.
He chokes out scraps—dates, routes, deals that went south. It’s enough to prove the leak’s real, but not enough to name the snake.
I see him hesitate. His eyes wide go wide, like he’s scared to say more. Matteo picks up on it. “Spill,” he growls.
“There’s something else,” he mumbles, voice shaking. “About your mother. A deal, years back, with the Vitale crew. It went bad, got her killed. They know something, Mancini, something they’re still holding.”
My blood freezes, his words twisting like a knife in my gut. My mother’s death is tied to the Vitales? I clench my fists.
“Fucking bastard. Everyone knows Rossis are behind it, not the Vitales,” Matteo grounds out through clenched teeth.
“Yes, yes, I know… But it's also tied to the Vitales. It's what I heard. I swear, I don't know any more.”
His voice is a trembling mess. My rage erupts, and I slam my fist into his face, blood spraying. “Useless,” I spit, stepping back, my chest heaving. Matteo nods to one of our men, and a gunshot cracks, sharp and final, the prisoner’s body slumping.
I storm outside, lighting a cigar, my second tonight. The smoke curls, bitter, doing nothing to calm the storm in me. A traitor’s in my circle, eating me alive, and now this—my mother, the Vitales, Rossis—my wife's fucking family for heaven’s sake, and a secret that’s been buried too long. It's all a tangled web. A web I need to detangle to get to the root of what happened.
Matteo walks up to me and claps my shoulder, his voice low. “We’ll find him, Enzo. We'll get to everyone that's behind this. Nobody screws us and walks.”
I nod, but my mind’s on Luis, chained in my cellar, a Rossi pawn I can use. I want him broken, but I have to play this smart. Serafina’s one of them, and if she finds out, she’ll come for me. I should avoid it, should avoid her totally.
We get back to the manor just as the beginnings of dawn streaks grey across the sky. I feel oddly unfulfilled. We've managed to handle the issues at hand, but I'm not sated. I itch all over. I need Fina. I need her to ease the burning anger in me.
I head up to my room, my boots heavy on the marble, half hoping she'd be there. The air is thick with cedar and silence. As I'd guessed, she's not there. She's not one who likes to be told what to do. But fuck, I want her. I need a fix and she's the only one to provide that. Tonight's victory is hollow, it won't do.
I retrace my steps to my study, the loss of not seeing her profound in my mind. She's upstairs in her room, I bet, probably asleep. I should be glad, I don’t want her eyes on me, not now, not with Luis in my grip. But I can't help it. I briefly contemplate going up to her room. Will she welcome me, or will she tell me off?
I arrive at the study, and sit, my mood sour. I pour a shot of whiskey and stare at the empty hearth. The fire is long dead. The taste of the whiskey is sharp on my tongue. Luis is in my cellar, a piece to play against the Rossis. But Serafina complicates it. She’s a Rossi, a tool, but she’s more, and it’s fucking with me.
She'sfucking with me.
10
Serafina
“Fina, Luis is missing. My men think Enzo took him. I don’t want a war, not now, but I need you to find out if it’s true.” His frail voice crackles through, low and urgent.
My heart sinks. He isn't calling to hear from me. He’s calling to break bad news. He doesn't care if I'm dying in this marriage to Enzo. The only thing he cares about is his men and his legacy. As much as that angers me, what angers me the more is the news he's just broken to me.
I grip the phone tight, my nails digging into my palm. “I’ll handle it,” I say, voice steady, even though I'm raging inside. At Papa. At the world. At Enzo. I don't know what game Enzo’s playing, but I’m caught in the middle and I want out.
I hang up, my mind racing. I don't care much for Luis. He'd always challenged me. Even now, I think back to when Aida had suggested that perhaps he was smitten with me. That day now feels like eons ago.
I shouldn't care about Luis being abducted by Enzo. But, despite my reservation towards him, he’s always loyal to Papa, and his disappearance feels personal. It's like a slap to my face, to Papa's face. It's Enzo drawing a line in the sand.
I pull on a grey sweater and pants, my movements sharp and quick. My boots are heavy as I lace them up. Time to sniff around for the truth. Enzo’s been gone since the wedding night, out on some mission, but he’s back now. I heard his car pull in at dawn. He’s hiding something, and I’m not waiting to find out what.
The manor is quiet as I stealthily walk through. I can smell the secret in the air, and I’m ready to tear it apart to find answers. I head downstairs, my boots thudding against the marble. The manor’s walls are closing in like a trap. The portraits of dead Mancinis glare down, their eyes cold, judging. I ignore them, my focus razor-sharp.
Giulia, my maid, catches me in the hall, her auburn hair tucked under her cap. “Signora, breakfast?” she asks in her usual timid voice. I shake my head, brushing past her.
“Not now,” I say, my tone clipped. She shrinks back, and I feel a pang, but I’m too wound up to care. I need to find Enzo, to know if he’s stupid enough to snatch one of Papa’s men under my nose.
The study’s my first stop, its heavy door ajar, the scent of whiskey and smoke lingering. It’s empty, the hearth cold, but I feel him here, his presence like a living, breathing thing. He'd been here, but not anymore.
I move on, checking the garage, the library, every room in this damn fortress, but he’s nowhere to be found. My anger grows. It's like a fire licking at my veins. If Enzo’s holding Luis, I definitely won't let it slide.