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He slumps down on the cushiony seat and releases a long breath.
I stuff my clenched hands in my pockets and stare at him. “You don’t have a brother. Or I don’t remember you ever mentioning him. Only your sick bitch of a sister, Rosa.”
His brows pinch together. “What do you mean by that?” he asks in a weak and frail voice.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but that cunt came to live with us when you disappeared. For five years, I lived with that woman as she groomed me as her little sex toy.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” someone mutters.
Antonio’s face pales even more. “Where was your mother?” he croaks.
“In a fucking catatonic state because of whatever happened that night. She’s been that way since you disappeared.”
Anger adds a bit of color back to his cheeks. “Where’s Rosa now?”
“Dead,” I remark. “I was twelve when I killed her.”
My father doesn’t say anything else, but I don’t miss the hint of satisfaction in his eyes at that news.
“Now tell me how you have a brother that I knew nothing about.”
“I cut ties with him years ago, before you were born. I haven’t claimed him as blood since then, so there was no reason for you to know about him.”
There’s more to the story, a lot more, going by his expression, but we’ll get to that later.
“Where the fuck is my wife?” I demand.
He wipes a wrinkled hand down his gaunt face. “There’s a place in the center of the island. Only your mother and I know where it is. Or rather, we used to be the only ones who knew. That’s no longer the case. It’s a bunker that Miles Ellington had built when he first bought the island for his wife. I used to take your mother there when we wanted… privacy.”
“Exact location,” I snap.
He sits up straighter in his seat. “You drive. I’ll give you directions as we go.”
I scowl. “You can barely sit up in that fucking chair. You’ll be dead before we get there, and then Savina will be lost to me for good.”
“And you’d be okay with that. Me dying, that is?” he asks.
“I don’t give a fuck either way,” I growl. “Now give me the fucking directions.”
I’m two seconds away from snapping his fucking neck. The only thing that stops me is his knowledge of Savina’s location.
“It’ll be faster if I show you, Matteo.”
“Don’t call me that.” No one has called me that name in years, and hearing it now grates on my nerves. “My name is Ryker.”
“Ryker,” he murmurs.
“Jesus, fuck,” I grunt. “Let’s go,” I order.
If taking him with me gets me to Savina faster, then so be it. But I’ll mutilate his body if he dies before I get there.
He’s slow in getting up from his chair, and I’m disinclined to help him.
“With me,” I tell Marcelo as I pass by him.
The group follows me out the front door. Cassio, probably the nicest of the bunch, stays by my father’s side as he walks down the steps. My patience is hanging by a thin thread as I wait for them to approach the car. Marcelo gets in the front passenger seat, with my father taking the back seat with Emo. Alexander, Bishop, and Cassio go to Bishop’s car that’s parked behind mine.
The doors are barely closed before I’m hauling ass out of the driveway and through the opened gate. I turn left out of the driveway, heading toward the center of the island.