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Finger on the trigger, he edged close to the corner and peered up and down the hallway. Empty. The next hallway proved empty as well. Where the hell was the security that should be canvasing the halls?

After slowing his breathing to listen for footsteps, nothing caught his attention at first. The draft caught in the medieval stone hallways moaned like a distant, high-pitched wail. Wait, that was a wail.

Skimming the wall of the corridor with quick steps, he moved closer. As he turned another corner, the faint sounds of a woman crying became unmistakable. He scanned the hall for guards, then gave the sound his full concentration.

What the hell? Boone shook his head and listened again.

That was definitely a woman crying somewhere nearby. Every protective instinct in his body sprang to life. The last thing he’d expected was a woman inside the compound. Midnight had ironclad rules about women in a “man’s domain.”

That was another Cosa Nostra way. Unless they were brought in for his men’s recreational purposes. God help whoever she was if that was the case. Very few made it out, and if they did, they’d be so severely abused they never recovered. From the cries of pain and fear now echoing down the passage, this woman wasn’t there by choice.

“He’s going to kill you for this!” the woman shouted, followed by continued sobbing and a man’s deep laughter. Boone pushed back against the anger surging through him at the fear in the woman’s voice.

Definitely not here by choice.

If there was one thing his dad made sure he and his brothers did, it was to treat the women in their lives with kindness and respect. He followed the sound until he came to the door standing between him and the crying woman. The thick wooden door couldn’t block the crack of a hard slap, followed by a pained scream and more sobbing.

“I’m dead when he sees the bruise on your face anyway,” a man said.

Boone recognized that voice. That gravelly tone and fake Italian accent belonged to one of Midnight’s commanders,Ottavio Moretti.

“The way I figure, I might as well have some fun before I die. If you’d been nicer, we could have had a good time. Now, I’m going to have to be rough. Which suits me fine, little mouse, but you will enjoy it much less.”

Boone squeezed the butt of his weapon. Squeezing the throat of the man inside that room would be much more satisfying. He’d love to see how good Moretti was at taking a small portionof the abuse he enjoyed dishing out to people who couldn’t fight back.

“If you weren’t such a big coward, you’d let me go,” said the girl. “Are you scared of me or something?”

Boone couldn’t hold back a grin. The woman was reckless, but he admired her grit. Of course, if she were his, he’d be tanning her bottom for putting herself in even more danger with her taunting. She was waving the proverbial red flag in front of the bull.

“Hardly. But why waste this opportunity to get to know you better?” The sneer in Moretti’s tone grated on Boone’s already frazzled temper. “When the Boss arrives, you’ll be glad someone has already had you. He’s not nearly as gentle as I am.”

Boone might be here to kill Midnight, but he was saving a round for this asshat. Still, he couldn’t help but admire the woman’s defiance when she shouted, “I don’t like you. You’re not supposed to touch me. And I’m telling that Boss guy everything you’ve done when he gets here.”

Chuckling, Moretti said, “Be my guest,topolina. I won’t be here when the Boss arrives. Now, I think it is time you use your mouth for something better than talking.”

“Stop!” the girl screamed. “Don’t do this! Please!”

That was followed by the ripping of cloth and another scream.

Pure rage plowed through Boone. The door at the far end of the passageway that probably led to the roof and landing pad for Midnight’s helicopter mocked him. Everything inside him fought to keep to the mission. He should make his way to the roof and rid the world of Nico Midnight.

Cara deserved to be avenged. And he damn sure deserved to be the one to avenge her, to gain some semblance of resolution and peace. He’d failed her, failed to live up to the PJ creed to “be prepared at all times to perform my assigned duties so thatothers may live.” He was the ranking member of the team, so the blame was his. Now, he finally had the chance to give his team a resolution.

But that wasn’t who he was. What would he do to the man who walked away if his sister was the one unfortunate enough to be trapped on the other side of the door with Moretti? There was no way he could walk away from the woman behind that door and leave her to her fate.

Maybe he could still do both. He could take out Moretti first and tell the woman to wait inside, finish his mission to put a bullet in Midnight, then take her with him when he rendezvoused with his team and headed back to the States.

He ran his hands over the door, looking for a way to open it without drawing too much attention to himself. What he wanted to do was break it down and show Moretti what happened to thugs who tried to force themselves on women.

The solid wood door, easily twice as thick as a standard one, was designed to keep out unwanted interruptions. He’d have to use a C4 breaching charge to get in, but he needed both of the ones he’d brought with him for a different job. One that was vital for his mission to succeed.

The whir of helicopter blades interrupted his inspection. Fuck. Boone shoved the knowledge that Midnight had arrived and could possibly make it off the roof before Boone could reach him to the back of his mind.

Moretti heard the whumps of the copter’s rotor blades, too. With a bellow of primal rage, he snarled, “Do what I told you to do. I don’t have any more time to waste.”

Another scream rent the air, then the hitched breathing and sobs of a woman who had lost hope filled the space. “I w-w-won’t t-tell anyone what h-happened. P-P-Please, I just w-want to g-go h-h-home.”

“You are never going home,topolina. No matter what happens now.”