Page 18

Adriano

I crash my fist into the warehouse table, the metal groaning under the hit.

“We’ve got them,” I growl, glaring at the map Ralph shoved in front of me.

Red ink circles a rundown dockside shithole, Ricci’s rats’ nest, where those bastards who jumped Penelope are holed up.

Of course Ricci won’t be there as he has been a freaking coward hiding and sending hIs goons to do his dirty work.

We haven’t even been able to find him and interrogating his shit-for-brains men came to a dead end.

But I’ll get him. For sending his asshole son after my Penelope and for what his men did to her. I will get him.

My blood’s boiling as I address Ralph, itching to spill theirs. “Round up the crew. We hit them tonight.”

Ralph nods, already barking orders into his phone.

Ten of my men grab their guns, checking clips with sharp clicks, their faces set like stone.

These pricks hurt her, cracked her skull, then left her bleeding and I’m gonna bury them alive for it.

Every second I picture her in that hospital bed, bruised and pale, and I die a little.

“Boss one more thing,” Ralph says, stepping close, my voice dour. “She’s gone. Penelope checked herself out of the hospital an hour ago. Slipped past Tommy and the boys I had watching her.”

My stomach lurches. “What the fuck do you mean, gone?” I grab his collar, drawing him forward. “You were supposed to make sure she didn’t move an inch!”

He holds up his hands. “She’s smart, Adriano. Ditched them clean. Nobody’s seen her since.”

I shove him back, cursing under my breath. “Fuck!” My head’s spinning—she’s out there, hurt, alone, and probably visible to sick fuckers out for me. Quiet people, like Holden. I haven’t heard from him. I know it is only a matter of time before he shows me what he’s planning after what I did to him.

I rake my hands through my hair, pacing the concrete floor, boots thudding hard. The realization that having her in my world is causing more harm than good crushes me and it is so freaking frustrating that there isn’t much I can do to make it all stop.

“You take Tony and Marco. Hit Ricci’s crew. Make it bloody and send that asshole a message he cannot crawl away from. I’m finding her.”

Ralph squints, hesitant. “You sure? We can handle—”

“Go!” I snap, grabbing my keys and storming out. The warehouse door bangs shut behind me, the sound echoing like a gunshot.

I peel out in my SUV, tires screaming against asphalt, tearing through the city.

The first place I hit is that shitty apartment she refused to leave with the dripping sink.

I offered so many times to get her a better place.

But trust Penelope to stick to her beliefs and not want anything from me she didn’t work for.

I kick the door open, wood splintering—maybe when she doesn’t have a door, she will accept my help.

But the place is empty. Her bed’s unmade, sheets twisted like she bolted fast. No note, no trace.

My gut twists tighter. Where the hell is she?

Then it hits me, cold and heavy—Sophia’s grave. The one fucking place I cannot face without choking on guilt but where she’d probably go to breathe after the conversation we had at the hospital.

I gun the engine, weaving through traffic, horns blaring as I blow red lights. The cemetery looms ahead, iron gates rusting under the gray sky. I screech to a stop, gravel spitting, and climb out, my boots crunching the path.

She’s there, kneeling by Sophia’s headstone, her floral dress is stark against the dead grass.

Her hair’s up, messy in that green band, and she’s clutching her jacket like it’s armor.

I stop a few feet back, watching her trace my daughter’s name with trembling fingers.

She looks small, broken, and fuck, I want to fix it—fix us.

“Penelope,” I say, voice rough.

She stiffens, not turning. “I do not want to see you right now.”

I step closer, gravel grinding under me. “Too bad. I’m here.”

I crouch beside her, staring at the stone—Sophia Vieri, forever 17. The ache hits me hard, same as always.

“I miss her every damn day. You know that?”

She nods, slowly, her eyes locked on the carved letters. “Yeah. Me too.”

We sit there, silence thick between us, the wind whistling through bare branches.

I can still hear Sophia’s laugh, see her running off with Penelope, both of them giggling like the world wasn’t a shitshow waiting to blow.

That night she stormed out, keys in hand—I let her go.

Penelope didn’t pick up. Now we’re here, drowning in the wreckage.

“Why’d you leave the hospital?” I ask.

She twists her head, locking those coffee-brown eyes on mine—bloodshot, shadowed, like she hasn’t slept since they attacked.

“Because your world’s choking me, Adriano,” she cries. “I thought I could handle the blood, the bodies. I thought it was what I wanted, that I could be part of it. But I’m drowning. Everyday I realize that I made a mistake wanting you all these years.”

I wrap my arms around her, then haul her against me. She stiffens, before pushing back for a split second, then collapses into me, her heat bleeding through my shirt, her breath shaky on my neck.

“Are you scared of me?” I rasp, my lips grazing her hair, the honey scent hitting me like a drug. “Tell me straight if I’m the monster keeping you up at night, I’ll walk. I swear it on her grave.”

She freezes, her fingers caving into my jacket, but no words come. Her silence shows the fear, want, guilt. It’s all swirling in those eyes, screaming what her mouth won’t.

I tighten my hold, burying my face in her neck, inhaling that honey scent that’s haunted me since she came back.

“You’ve fucked me sideways, Pen,” I say, my voice splitting open, raw as hell.

“I cannot function without you dominating my thoughts. Every curve, every scream, it’s got me by the throat.

I hate how bad I need you, but I’d choke on my own blood before letting you go. ”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean every damn word.” I pull back, my lips curling up despite the ache. “Broke your door down looking for you, by the way. Splinters everywhere. You have to stay with me now. You have no choice.”

She jerks upright, eyes flashing. “The hell I am! I’m not your prisoner, Adriano. Fix my damn door or I’m staying put.”

I laugh. “What, you’ll sleep here in a cemetery? You gonna bunk with the ghosts, Pen?”

“Yes,” she deadpans. “They’re quieter than you and don’t hog the blankets.”

“Come on, stop being so stubborn. Your place is a shithole, babe. One kick and it’s a free-for-all. I’m sure rats probably throw parties in there. You’re safer with me.”

“Safer?” She snorts, crossing her arms so tight her boobs practically salute me. “There’s absolutely nothing safe about you. Please. I’d rather spoon a skeleton than dodge your bullshit. Get me a new door, it’s nonnegotiable.”

I throw my head back, cackling. “Oh, you’re savage. Fine, I’ll get you a door—solid oak, fit for a queen. But I’m training the rats to chew through it when I miss you.”

She grins, eyes glinting. “Good luck. I’ll bribe ‘em with cheese to bite your toes off first.”

I tilt my head. “Alright, princess. So it’s settled then. New door, steel bolts, my cameras are already there, I’ll upgrade your security system and the works. But I get a key.”

“No key,” she fires back, poking me. “You knock like a normal person.”

“Fine. No key.” I lean in, voice dropping. “But I’ll still climb through your window when I want you.”

“Try it. I’ll shove you out.”

“Deal.” I fish my phone out, dialing Ralph while she watches, smug.

“Ralph, yeah, it’s me. Penelope’s door’s fucked.

I kicked it in. Get a new one, heavy-duty, and slap a security system on her place.

Cameras, locks, the full deal. Today, asshole, not next week.

She’s stubborn as hell, thinks she can keep me out.

” I hang up, catching her glare. “Happy now?”

“Thrilled,” she says, voice dripping sarcasm, but her lips twitch, and I know she’s mine, door or not.

We don’t speak for a while, the silence filled with things we want to say but aren’t ready to.

“I have not been here in weeks, not since you,” I say.

She grunts, distracted, sliding her handbag onto her shoulder as she rises. “I figured stepping foot in this place again would gut me, leave me feeling like absolute shit.”

Penelope spins to face me, her eyes locking onto mine.

Instantly, I’m flung back to that first spark at Gianna’s wedding and her in that short dress, me pretending I did not want her.

So much has twisted since then. She’s still a goddamn vision, carved like the world bends just for her.

Traces linger of that shy girl who tried schooling me on lust versus obsession, but now?

Now she’s a puzzle I cannot crack, edges sharpened by pain I helped carve.

Her floral dress clings short, sleeves barely hiding the tan of her arms. That’s when I spot it—a tattoo peeking from the fabric, ink bleeding into view. “You got a tattoo?”

Shock glints across her face before she masks it with a scowl, stammering, “Yeah, I did, but it’s nothing. Anyway, I need to go.”

“Can I see it?”

She jerks her arm back, twisting it out of sight. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not ugly, just…”

“Show me.”

She hesitates, jaw tight like she might snap at me again, but then relents. Lifting her arm, she lets me grab her wrist. I turn it slow, fingers brushing her skin, and there it is—my name, Adriano, etched in black.

“Fuck, Pen—”

She pulls her hand free, eyes flashing. “You’re gonna call it stupid, right? Go ahead. Maybe it is, but do not think I did it because I’m in love or pining for you.”

“Were you not?” I step closer, voice dropping. “Thinking about me?”

“It was a drunk fuck up, Adriano. After the incident with Theo. I thought I’d get a sick memento of what I’ve let myself become.”